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Five years is a long time to be forgotten by the man who once swore you were his everything, I think everyone would agree with me on that.
I was standing in front of the mirror, smoothing down the ruffles of my engagement dress, a shade a little too close to my skin tone, when my phone rang. Blocked number… My first thought was to ignore it. The second was to answer because my heart already knew who it was. I hesitated, then picked up.“Hello?”
A voice I hadn’t heard in so long came through the line, deep,smooth and annoyingly familiar “Still changing your number every year, sweetheart? You were always so good at running and ignoring me.” I froze. Five years. Five long years, and yet his voice still had the power to knock the breath out of me. “Enzo”“Still remember my name. That’s nice,” he said, amused. “So should I send flowers to the engagement party, or would that be inappropriate…since you’re still my wife?”
I smiled, “Ex wife” “Not yet”, came his response. I pulled at the neck of my dress, suddenly short of air. “What do you want?” He laughed, that low, dangerous kind of laugh that always filled me with dread. “You know exactly what I want, love.”“We haven’t had a relationship in years. You left. We’ve been separated…”
“I didn’t leave. You gave up on us. And separated isn’t divorced,” he interrupted smoothly.
“Look,” I said trying to steady my breathing, “ I sent you the divorce papers several times”.“Oh, I got them. I just don’t remember agreeing.”
That voice…still calm, just as calm as I remember, yet sharp enough to get his point across.
“I don’t need your agreement, Enzo. Just your signature”. “Mmm. About that. I’ve been thinking, Elena.” He whispered my name like a secret.“If you want my signature, you’ll have to come see me. Let’s discuss it properly.”
“I’m not playing your games.” “Who said it was a game?” His voice dipped lower. “ You’ll come home, Elena. To our home. And we’ll talk like adults…about us. About your little wedding plans”. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. “Enzo, you can’t just barge into my life like this.” “Oh, I can. And I just did. You’re still my wife, bearing my name. That gives me certain…rights. Come see me when you’re ready to talk.” The line went dead. I stood there frozen, phone shaking in my hand, heart pounding wildly. My reflection stared back at me, a woman trying to smile through the wreckage. Somewhere between the anger and shock, I felt it again… the pull I had spent five years trying to forget. And just like that, I knew.Enzo Wayne wasn’t just back.
He was coming for me. I fixed my makeup, forced a smile at the mirror and headed out to the party, my engagement party. When I opened the door, the first thing I saw was disappointment. Nathan stood there,pain and confusion written all over his face. “We’ve been together for eight months,” he said, quiet, cold and emotionless “and you didn’t think to tell me you’re still married?” When were you planning to tell me, Elena? After getting married? After the honeymoon? Or maybe after having kids and your husband shows up to claim you back?” I looked Nathan in the eye, hoping he could somehow see how much this was killing me. “I’m really sorry, Nathan. I didn’t plan for any of this. And… I did tell you I was married” “Was..Elena. Not still married. You told me you were married and that it ended a long time ago and I just heard you having a “sign the divorce papers” conversation. My God! You’re still married to him!” His voice rose like the realization had just hit again. Yes, I am. And I’m sorry i didn’t tell you, it was such a long time ago since we went our separate ways. I just need to get the divorce papers signed, that’s all. I’m sorry, Nathan. I pleaded. Before he could respond, Judy walked in all flustered and bossy, already in full organizer mode. “You two need to get to the party! Everyone’s waiting.” Trust Judy to treat event planning like a divine calling. The chatter hit me first, then the soft music, then a dozen smiling faces. I smiled back as I always do..like my world hadn’t just been set on fire by Enzo. For the rest of the night, I tried to be present, smiling, dancing, pretending. Reminding myself this was my engagement party. That I was moving forward. That Enzo Wayne was in the past. But no matter how many smiles I forced, his voice kept echoing in my head;You’ll come home, Elena and we’ll talk about us.
By the end of the night, I’d made my decision. I was going to see him. I didn’t care how, but he was going to sign those papers. Nathan didn’t say a word on our drive home, but as soon as he parked, he stared straight ahead for a while before turning to me. “Tell me everything,” he said quietly. And I did. All of it.The love, the neglect, the heartbreak.
When I was done, he sighed. “He’s an asshole. You said it yourself..controlling, manipulative. He’s trying to mess with you, Elena. You really think meeting him is a good idea? Let the lawyers handle it. And if you must meet with him, I’m coming with you.” “No,” I said softly. “He wants control. He wants a reaction. If I show up with you, It’ll only give him more power and God knows what else he’ll do. I’ll deal with him.” Nathan’s voice softened. “ I still think you shouldn’t face him alone.” “I’ll be fine. Really. It’s time I finish what I started. He nodded slowly, but I could see the worry in his eyes. I looked away, clutching my purse a little tighter, my mind already going back. To Enzo’s voice, his threats and the sinking feeling that the world I built over five years was about to come crumbling down around me. Deep down, I knew what Enzo really wanted had nothing to do with divorce papers or closure.It had everything to do with me.
Almost as if the universe was trying to prove me right, as soon as we got inside and Nathan went to grab a drink, my phone buzzed with a message from none other than Enzo.“I hope you enjoyed your little party. Remember, sweetheart. I always collect what’s mine.” The next morning, I stared at his message again, fingers hovering over the phone. I wasn’t sure if I was angrier that he ruined my night or at the fact that he still had this effect on me after everything. Finally, I hit the call button. He answered on the first ring. “Well,that was quick. Miss me already?” “Don’t flatter yourself,”I snapped. “I’m calling because I’m ready to talk. But we’re definitely not doing it at your house.” “Why not? Everything I have is yours. It’s your house too,” he said smoothly. “It’s not. We’re meeting somewhere public.” There was a pause, then that laugh, the low one that always meant trouble. “Public? You think I’m going to throw you on the nearest bed if you come to my house? Or maybe you’re not as immune to me as you pretend. “For a billionaire, you’re such an idiot. Believe what you want, but we’re meeting in public.” “You think I need a crowd to behave?” “Just agree, Enzo.” He sighed. “Fine, We’ll meet in public. I’ll pick the place. But don’t expect me to be nice, sweetheart. I mean, you’re trying to marry someone else when you’re still married to me.” Before I could respond, he hung up.Olive stayed after Maya fell asleep.Olive and I migrated to the back porch. It was cold enough to need the blankets Maya kept in the basket by the door, and we took one each and sat in the old chairs that had been on this porch since Maya moved in.Neither of us spoke for a while.Olive was good at silence, the kind that meant I'm here and I'm not going anywhere and you can take whatever time you need. She'd always been like that, even in school, the quiet one in a group of people who were always loud.It was why I was grateful to have her here."I don't know how to say it to him," I said eventually.Olive pulled her blanket higher. "Say it to me first."I looked at her."Practice," she said simply. "I'll be Enzo. Say it to me the way you need to say it to him.""Olive…""You just told me and Maya the whole story," she said. "But that was different. That was telling your friends. Telling him is a different thing entirely." She looked at me steadily. "Practice it. Get the words in you
Maya made tea.That was the first thing she did when we got inside, before questions or anything else.I sat at her kitchen table.Olive arrived twenty minutes late and we sat with our tea in silence.Then Olive said, quietly, "Whenever you're ready."I started at the beginning.I told them about our apartment in New York.How it had started well, the two of us building something together, his company in its early stages, both of us working, tired, and telling ourselves that the long hours were temporary, a season, something that would ease when the next milestone was reached.H
It’s been four days since the Wednesday dinner, and I am still not myself.It probably wouldn’t be visible to people that didn’t know me, but for someone like Enzo, it was impossible to hide from him. I could see the effort he put into not pushing for me to share, whatever it was that was making me pull away. I appreciated it, and it was also making everything harder.It was Saturday morning, Enzo was at my apartment because we'd planned to go to the farmers market. We had breakfast.I was present enough to answer questions and pour coffee and perform the basic tasks, but something on my face must have shown exactly the kind of pressure I was putting on myself, because he was looking at me like he was running out of patience. "Elena," he said."Mm.""What did I do?"I turned to look at him.He was holding the dishtowel and looking at me."Nothing," I said."Something is wrong. It's been days, and you're…" he stopped, then continued, "...you're here, but you're not here. And I've bee
It was a Wednesday.I remember that specifically because Wednesday had become our dinner night. He cooked. He always cooked when we were at his place, which was fine with me because Enzo in a kitchen is one of my favorite things and a perk of being in a relationship with him. He cooked the way he did everything he cared about, with full attention and the results were extraordinary in a way that made my own efforts little.Tonight was pasta again. This one is different from the last one, something with a sauce that had been simmering long enough to make the whole apartment smell like somewhere in Italy.I was sitting at the kitchen island watching him finish it, wine in hand, enjoying the view.I'd been working up to it all week.Telling him.After the conversation about Felicia, after the days of quiet and the evening on the couch where he'd held me without asking anything, after thinking about everything thoroughly, I'd arrived at a decision.He needed to know.The pregnancy was the
The thing about carrying something heavy was that you got used to the weight.I'd been carrying the story of the hospital for five years and in that story Enzo had known. He'd known and made a choice and that choice had been the final confirmation of everything I'd believed about where I ranked in his life. That was the version I knew and held on to. This new version had me rethinking everything I thought I knew.This version had a woman named Patricia making decisions she had no right to make, and Enzo in an office somewhere not knowing.I didn't know what to do with this version.So I did what I always did with things I didn't know what to do with.I went quiet.It wasn’t even intentional, it just happened that way. Less talking at dinner, more time working and reading. Enzo noticed soon enough.We were at my apartment, Tuesday evening, finishing dinner, and I was doing the thing where I thought I was hiding, sitting across from him with my fork moving but my head somewhere else e
It started as a perfectly ordinary conversation.We were at his place, a quiet Sunday evening, the kind that had become familiar enough that I'd stopped noticing how comfortable I was in his space. He was on the couch with his laptop doing something he'd described as just a quick look that had already consumed forty minutes, and I was in the armchair with my book.He closed the laptop eventually.Stretched, rolled his shoulders, and smiled at me."Tell me something that has nothing to do with work," I said, without looking up from my book."I've been thinking about expanding the Hong Kong office.""That's work.""It's also geography."
My heart started racing. “What kind of proposition?”He leaned forward, elbow on his knee, looking at me intensely.“Give me one month,” he said.I blinked. “What?”“Thirty days,” he continued. “Let me take you out. Cook for you. Show you what we could be now, not who we were five years ago, but wh
He left on a Tuesday morning.I knew because he texted me at 6 AM: Flying to New York for a few days. Business stuff. Miss you already.I stared at the message, still half-asleep, feeling sad about him leaving. Missing someone after one night apart shouldn't be possible. We'd been separated for fiv
The second date happened three days later, and I spent every single one of those days trying not to think about Enzo.I failed spectacularly.At work, I caught myself staring at my phone, waiting for his texts. In the shower, I replayed the moment outside the diner when he'd asked to kiss me. At ni
The words hung between us.Rosie appeared with our food, breaking the moment. She set down the burgers and the milkshake with a wink."You two enjoy," she said, walking away.I looked down at the milkshake, one glass, two straws, just like we used to share.Enzo noticed me staring."Too much?" he a







