He seems to think about my reply as he lifts his glass to take a somewhat ample sip. I raise my eyebrows at his unusual lack of restraint.

“Do you ever miss home?” I ask, trying to seem less curious than I am.

Liam looks down at the wineglass he’s now rotating in his fingers. “Do I miss home?” he repeats. “No, I don’t miss home. Why should I miss home or anyone there when I doubt any of them miss me?”

When our eyes meet, I can see the sadness there. He looks away and reaches for the nearly empty wine bottle, pouring out the last drops into our glasses.

“Enough with our morose questions. Now, what say you and I get drunk?” He lifts his glass up for a toast and I bring mine up to meet his.

If Liam is going to indulge then I am, too. I down my glass in a very unladylike gulp. He smiles and signals the waiter over to order another bottle.

Two hours later, we finally make our way to the Trevi Fountain and I have, in the meantime, come to the conclusion that we should be drunk all the time. Liam insisted on buying every postcard he could find of the Pantheon from multiple souvenir shops on the way over, swearing he was going to create a mural replica to scale. I laughed so much I almost cramped up. If I had any idea he was this entertaining once you got a few drinks in him, I would have insisted on boozy breakfasts from the get-go.

We situate our tipsy selves directly in front of the fountain, and I only have one rule as I stand before hundreds of years of history.

Do not fall in.

Thankfully, there are stone benches for viewers to sit on parallel to the fountain, and we quickly throw ourselves down onto the nearest one, getting comfortable and leaning back. It’s somewhat uncommonly deserted tonight, just a handful of groups here and there, and I can’t help but enjoy the moderate quiet. I stare straight ahead, allowing myself to relax as I lose myself in the absolute magic that is the Fontana di Trevi.

“Do you think there’s anything in the world more beautiful than this?” I ask in a lazy voice.

Liam looks forward as well with a languid smile. “No. I don’t think so.”

I’m not sure what prompts me, but I ask, “Did you once think there was?”

After a loud exhale, Liam wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close to his side. “At one point I did.”

I feel an all too familiar twist in my stomach at his words. The longing for an enchanted something that’s not there anymore. My head feels heavy and the crook of his arm is as welcome and warm as a pillow. “Do you wish you could go back to when you did?”