“By the way, you like pasta, right?” “I do.” “Perfect. Wine?” “Please.” Talking about world news and the occasional nonsense, we sip on wine and snack on veggies while waiting on the water to come to a boil. It’s so surreal to be here with him and not FaceTiming or texting. I’m close to finishing my first glass of wine when Dante, in his suave way, comes closer and tries to remove a string of moist hair from my left eye. “You know you could just ask me for a hairdryer, right?” he whispers in my ear. “And you couldn’t get any closer if you tried,” I tease him. But…