Falling For The Ex Convict Brother

~Joanne

Enzo smiled as the office sang him a badly tuned birthday song, but no one noticed the dullness behind his blue eyes or how the smile never quite reached them.

No one except me.

I had studied him long enough to know what his real smile looked like. This wasn’t it, and I could tell he couldn’t wait for it to end.

He probably would have cancelled this whole thing if I hadn’t organized it.

He knew I was behind it.

I never forgot his birthdays.

“Make a wish, boss!” Sasha called out, stepping forward with the cake.

My cake.

I’d stayed up most of the night making it, smoothing the frosting until it looked like something out of a bakery display. Perfect. Just how he liked things.

Enzo closed his eyes, then exhaled and blew out the candles.

The office exploded into applause. Wishes followed immediately after: long life, success, more contracts, more wins. Cheering. Whistles. Chairs scraping. Someone even started clapping off rhythm like it was a competition.

Sasha held the cake steady for slicing as the workers swarmed around her to collect their slices. Enzo didn’t wait around for his. He turned, heading straight toward the elevator.

I quickly instructed Sasha, already moving to catch up with Enzo. “Make sure you bring the boss’s cake to his office.”

Sasha nodded without really hearing me as she was busy arguing with Maxwell about something involving him cutting the line and the “fair distribution of cake slices,” while raising the knife threateningly at his face.

I slipped into the elevator just before the doors closed.

“Hey, Enzo,” I said softly.

He didn’t look surprised. He never was when it was me.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Jo.” He stepped out as the doors slid open to our office floor. “Go back to the celebration.”

That tone. Something was off.

I frowned slightly, following him into the office as he loosened his tie with a sharp tug, like it had been suffocating him.

He lazily moved around the desk to his chair and dropped into it like the energy had finally given up on him. He raked his fingers through his thick hair that I had dreamt of touching a thousand times as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling above us.

Okay, something was definitely wrong because the CEO Enzo I knew would never start his day slumped in his seat like a drunk man, watching the ceiling like it was some five-star movie. Not to mention, today was his birthday.

He always had this big energy on his birthdays. I wondered what was wrong now.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Spill.”

I got no word from him for a whole minute. Just silence.

“Hey!” I moved closer to tap his shoulder, breaking whatever trance he was in.

“She said no.” Enzo’s voice was rough, broken in a way I had never heard.

“Wait, what?” I blinked, confused.

“She rejected my proposal.”

“You proposed to Monica?” My voice was filled with surprise, and he quietly nodded once.

Enzo tells me everything, down to what he had for breakfast if need be. He never mentioned anything about proposing to Monica. But that wasn’t the issue right now.

Monica rejected him, and he looked torn apart, as if the world had finally crashed down on him.

I took a deep breath. However, a strange feeling of relief flickered in my chest, and guilt crashed in immediately, causing me to hate myself even though it was something I couldn’t control.

“I… I’m sorry,” I said finally, from a place of guilt.

He didn’t answer right away. Just kept staring at nothing.

“I honestly don’t understand, Jo,” he said quietly, clenching his jaw. “I mean, I have been… I’ve been good to her. I treated her right and gave her everything.”

He wasn’t lying, and I could attest to that because I had watched him over the years with Monica. Enzo always treated Monica like a princess and, honestly, I just couldn’t wrap my head around why she rejected him. I mean, Enzo is the type of loving guy every woman dreams of having. Maybe it’s just me.

“You’re not saying anything.” He turned his gaze to me, brows pulling together.

I understood that look on his face too well. The one that told me he wanted me to explain it. To fill him with ideas to salvage the situation. To make sense of something that didn’t make sense.

The thing is, I normally jump right into doing all of that. But at this moment, I couldn’t think of anything to say, and maybe it was because I wanted this. Admitting it made me feel bad in a way I couldn’t explain. 

Sighing, I rested my hands on his shoulders. Part of me wanted to tell him to stop wasting his heart on someone who clearly didn’t want it. To look elsewhere. To look closer.

But I couldn’t.

I never could.

Not in college when I first fell for him. Not after graduation when I chose to work beside him instead of taking other better opportunities. Then Monica came along, and whatever courage I might have found disappeared completely.

Enzo released a sharp breath and sank into the leather seat as silence stretched between us. I was starting to wonder what was running through his mind when he suddenly spoke up.

“Jo,” he called quietly.

“Hm?”

“Do you think I wasn’t good enough?” he asked me. “Like, if I put in more effort to become better, she’ll accept me next time?”

Next time?

My hands paused mid-massage as frustration unwillingly stirred inside me, making my chest tighten.

I quietly took a long exhale before responding. “I honestly think you did your best,” I replied calmly.

I heard the slight tremor in his voice as he said, “I guess my best wasn’t good enough.”

He closed his eyes, probably to hold back the tears from falling, and I just stood there, watching him intently without meaning to.

The sunlight pouring from the window cut across his sculpted face, highlighting the rich brown undertones of his chestnut hair, and my stomach did that little flutter it always did whenever I was hopelessly drawn to him.

“How about you take a break tonight?” I said carefully.

He slowly opened his eyes but remained in his lazy position.

“We go out. Somewhere. You know, just to get your mind off it,” I added, not particularly sure where, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Because he asked,

“Where?”

I almost said home before I allowed my brain to think.

A park?

Absolutely not. Enzo finds the serenity of the place boring.

A concert?

Well, his favorite artist wasn’t holding any at the moment.

“A club,” I said immediately as it entered my mind, and he raised an eyebrow slightly.

“You hate clubs.”

Oh yeah, I forgot I do.

The disastrous clubbing experience from our sophomore year literally flashed before my eyes. But I waved him off. “I’ll manage just for tonight.”

He gave me the quiet look that told me he was on board with the idea.

And just like that, I had no idea if I had helped him… or made everything worse.