The nightlife in Rome pales in comparison to what Miranda was used to back home. Most of the surroundings were engulfed in darkness, with only a few 24-hour establishments, their entrances desolate and void of activity. “It's nothing like Las Vegas,” Derek remarked. “Rome was once a grand city in ancient times, but now it’s mostly a tourist destination.” Miranda chuckled softly. “Rome has its own charm. It doesn't need to be compared to other cities. Las Vegas has its vibrancy, but Rome is rich in culture and history.” Derek smiled, pleased with her response. “Yes, Rome’s culture is renowned worldwide. America too, of course.” Miranda raised an eyebrow. “Do you like American movies?” “Yes, I love American arts films. Brigitte, Jet Wilson, and oh, my favorite, Robert Downey.” Miranda was surprised. “You know more than I do.” Derek laughed, his English tinged with an Italian accent, though still fluent. “Miranda, I must admit, I’ve deceived you.” “Oh?” “I recognize you. You attended the architecture award ceremony tonight. I saw you there.” Miranda's hand tightened slightly on the seatbelt as a defensive wall went up in her mind. “Weren’t you working all evening?” “Yes, but as a traffic cop, there isn’t much to do here. This is Rome, not New York. Traffic jams are rare.” Derek winked at her. “Am I right? I heard New York often has traffic jams.” Miranda nodded with a light laugh. “Yes, with large population, traffic jams are common during rush hour.” “Honestly, I admire the American people. They have a way of making themselves known. Recently, I saw a video on YouTube of a young girl cooking. It was beautiful and captivating.” Miranda shook her head, amused. “Are all Roman police officers as chatty as you?” “Not all, it depends on the person. Men tend to try to impress women they like, much like a peacock spreading its feathers to attract a mate.” Derek's words were clear in their intent. Miranda understood, and her response was equally clear. “It’s a shame, really. I’m married.”The smile vanished from Derek’s face instantly. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miranda. I truly apologize.” “It’s okay, no need to apologize.” “I didn’t see you wearing a ring, so I assumed you were single… In our culture, married women usually wear wedding rings. Do American women not wear rings after marriage?” Miranda waved a hand dismissively and turned to gaze out the window. Wedding rings? She had been married twice. The first time, to Nathan Reed, it was a secret marriage. He never even showed up; there was no wedding, no reception, and certainly no wedding ring. The second time, the groom did appear. They went to the City Hall together, but she never received a ring from him. “Miranda, what kind of man is your husband?” Miranda turned back to him. “Why do you ask that all of a sudden?” “Apologies if I’m intruding on your privacy. I’m just curious. A woman as beautiful and talented as you must be married to a remarkable man.” Miranda tapped on the window. “Could you lower it a bit?” “But it’s so cold outside…” “I’d like some fresh air, please.” “Oh, of course.” Derek quickly lowered the window. The police car was an SUV, with a high chassis. The early morning wind was sharp and cold, and Miranda’s clothing offered little warmth. The chill seeped in, waking up memories she had long tried to bury. “He’s a brilliant entrepreneur and a masterful boss,” she said softly. “His company has branches in Europe, America, and Africa. His capabilities far surpass his age—he’s probably the youngest behind-the-scenes operator of a multinational corporation.” “Wow,” Derek exclaimed. “Only someone so exceptional could be a match for you.” “No, I wasn’t a match for him,” Miranda said with a bitter smile, but her expression was peaceful, as if she had made peace with the past. “He was too good, so he had many options. Eventually, we parted ways.”Derek frowned slightly. “Why did you break up?” “I’m not sure,” Miranda replied with a self-mocking laugh. “Isn’t it ridiculous? I still don’t know why he suddenly left me, why he gave up on me, why he walked away, leaving me behind. I’ve spent three years trying to figure it out, but I still can’t.” Derek pressed on. “Did you ever ask him? If there was a misunderstanding, it’s best to clear it up as soon as possible. You’re so beautiful and capable; I think he owes you an explanation.” “There’s no need,” Miranda said, wiping her face with her hand. It was dry, no tears. Good, she could finally talk about the past without shedding a single tear. “We’ve been apart for three years. Haven’t I survived just fine?” She had once tried to lower herself, losing all self-respect to please a man, only to be betrayed by him and despised by his mother. This time, she wouldn’t allow herself to make the same mistake. Whether he had his reasons or found someone new, the conclusion was the same—“give up.” Those two words answered all the questions. So, she decided to let go completely and live her own life. Over the past three years, she had often reflected. The first thirty years of her life were too unbearable, but the next fifty or sixty years, she would live for herself, live brilliantly and freely. She spent two years studying architecture, enrolling in a prestigious British university to systematically study the subject—not for anyone else, but to live for her mother, to carry on her dreams and hopes, and to live better and more beautifully. “We’re here.” Derek stopped in front of the hotel. “Miranda, it was a pleasure meeting you and hearing your story. But I want to tell you something—Rome is a city of romance. We cherish love here, so I hope you and your husband can talk things through. If there’s still love between you, please, stay together. If not, let go gracefully. Love is never stingy in blessing anyone; you’ll get everything you want.” When Derek said this, his eyes were sincere, full of conviction. Miranda could feel his kindness and goodwill, so she smiled and nodded. “Thank you for the encouragement. I will.”