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him to feel good about herself, the old self-doubting Ella was difficult to keep at bay.
    One day, she began to idly search on her tablet for anything Italian, just something about his heritage. At first she didn’t know what she was looking for.
    Wanting to understand him urged her to find out anything she could. An article on Italian men caught her eye, so she clicked to read more. The writer described Adam perfectly: charming, gracious, polite. Italian men are passionate, affectionate, warm, loving, and demonstrative —so far, so good.
    However, Adam wasn’t strictly Italian. She was intrigued that he was born in Brazil. A billionaire from Brazil, a “Brazillionaire” as she’d called him, the word she’d coined to describe him. The page she found about Brazilian men started on a positive note, calling them romantic, funny, and saying they treated a woman like a woman. Reading on, she frowned at the comment that Brazilian men were famous for being unfaithful. If you fall for one, be sure he doesn’t have a wife back home. Ugh, that would be terrible.
    Horror gripped her. The idea of Adam having another woman in Brazil was a possibility, which could explain why he had to return to his home without her, unable to say why. He didn’t seem like that kind of guy, but then Ella was inexperienced with men. She’d been captivated by Adam and wanted to believe the best. What if she was wrong?
    The goal to find out more about him took on a new blush. She needed to know what she was dealing with. Clicking around, she discovered other facts about Italians, learning that those from Northern Italy were of Nordic decent. Thus Adam’s light hair and golden skin came from his father, who was born in Milan. She hadn’t seen any photos of his family; odd that he didn’t have any in his Newport home. Possibly his sister also had light hair and eyes; she wished she could meet her.
    After spending hours online, Ella knew more about Brazil, including the culture, tips on travelling to Rio, surfing at the many beaches, food, business, and even the language. She decided to purchase an English to Brazilian Portuguese dictionary to learn more about anything having to do with Adam. When he came back, she could surprise him by speaking a few words in his native language.
    If nothing else, her research gave her a better understanding of the man she loved. Feeling more in control of the situation, her fear subsided. The idea of another woman nagged at her, but she dismissed it. Convinced that Adam would not betray her, she assumed the situation requiring all his attention was family or business related.
    For several days after her research binge, Adam didn’t call. Since he’d been away, he’d called less and less often. But when five long days passed without a word, Ella panicked. Her mind wouldn’t shut off, feeding her various reasons for his lack of contact. Maybe something had happened to him, or maybe he didn’t want to talk to her again—either scenario distressed her. She wasn’t sure what to do and couldn’t stop worrying.
    Every day she wanted to call Adam but didn’t. Telling herself that he was involved in something important, she held back, unwilling to be a distraction. It was better for him to deal with the situation in Brazil so he could come back to her. Still her patience wore thin, and she decided she’d give him one more day. If he didn’t call, she would call him or do whatever she had to do, in order to find out what was going on.
    Then Adam called. “Amore mia,” he said, lapsing into Italian. His voice sounded different, strained and gritty.
    Ella knew something was wrong. “Adam. Oh my god, Adam. You haven’t called in so long. I was so worried. What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
    Silence on the other end pushed Ella to the limit, and for a second she thought she might faint.
    Then Adam spoke again. “I have missed you so much. Please know that every minute away from you is torture. I don’t want