FAZER LOGINIt had been a week since I’d seen Enzo, a whole blissful, glorious week. Not a single text, call or unwanted visit at the library.
I started to think maybe he meant what he said at the library, maybe the apology was real. Maybe Enzo had finally decided to let me go. It didn’t matter, I was just glad. But I also couldn’t stop thinking. Maybe something happened. How was it possible that I hadn’t seen him around town, even though he told me he bought a house here? Maybe he really was gone for good. That was a nice thought. I stood by my bedroom window, brushing my hair, smiling to myself. Nathan had texted me half a dozen reminders about tonight, he wanted us to try out a new place that just opened. Nothing fancy, he said. Just dinner and some quality time. I told myself that was all I needed right now. Laughter, peace and someone who didn’t make my heart feel like it was always running a race. Not someone whose very presence made me act wild and reckless. By the time Nathan picked me up, I was determined to have a good night. No tension, no secret, no dark haired, suit wearing man from the past. Just dinner with the man I loved. The restaurant was elegant, all glass, filled with so many plants it felt like a garden, soft lighting, jazz playing low in the background and cute little lights on each table. In that moment, I realized why Nathan was so excited to come here. I couldn’t wait to try the food. When Nathan reached for my hand across the table, brushing his thumb over mine, I smiled. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he said. “Just us.” “Yeah,” I replied, still smiling. “Just us. And this place is so beautiful. I love it, we totally have to come again.” “I’m glad you like it, I knew you’d enjoy the garden vibe they’ve got going on,” he replied, smiling that half smile that made his dimple pop. All seemed well in the universe in that perfect moment. Until it wasn’t. I caught his scent before I even saw him seconds later. It felt like someone pressed an invisible hand against my ribs, stealing half the air from my lungs. How was he still using the same perfume after all these years? It’s strange how a memory can hit you out of nowhere, just because of a perfume. How something so small could drag you years back in seconds. It was unfair how memory worked, it didn’t ask for permission before hitting you in the chest. For a second, the restaurant blurred around me, replaced by another night, another table, his hand covering mine as we planned a future that burned out too fast. And there he was, tall, composed, smirking, walking straight towards our table. He was dressed in gray shirt, no tie, top button undone. He looked like he just stepped out of a Vogue magazine, moving like he owned the place. I reminded myself I hated him and had to stop looking. Too late. Nathan followed my gaze. “Elena?” Before I could answer, Enzo stopped beside our table. “Elena,” he said smoothly, his voice deep enough to draw glances from nearby tables. “Looking beautiful tonight, as always.” Of course,Of all the restaurants in the city.
“Hi,” I replied, forcing my face to remain neutral, trying not to show how much I wanted to kick him in the nuts right now, standing there looking smug. “You’re… uh, you’re here.” “Clearly.” he said, a hint of amusement on his face. Well, at least one of us finds this funny. Nathan stood, extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m Nathan Osborne. Elena’s fiance.” For a split second, I thought I saw something in Enzo’s eyes, but it passed so fast I couldn’t tell what it was. Then he smiled, shook Nathan’s hand firmly and said, “Enzo Wayne. Elena’s husband.” The silence felt loud, even the jazz sounded so faraway, as if the entire restaurant paused to listen. The words landed like a punch. I could see Nathan’s body go rigid, his jaw tighten. Now would be a prefect time for the ground to open up so I could disappear quietly. I felt awful. Nathan didn’t deserve any of this. Enzo released Nathan’s hand as if nothing had happened. “Didn’t mean to intrude,” he said. “ I just saw my wife across the room and she looked stunning. I thought I should say hello. It’s not a crime to talk to my wife, is it?” Oh, Lord. He just had to go there, he was really asking for it. “Enzo,” I said quietly. “We’re here on a date and would like to be alone. I’d appreciate it if you’d…” “Of course,” he cut in, the smile gone. “Enjoy dinner with your friend.” He said, then turned to leave. As if that wasn’t enough, halfway to the VIP section, he looked back. “Oh, and in case you were wondering,” he added casually, “I’m just having a business dinner with those two gentlemen over there. So you don’t assume I’m with a woman.” Then he winked, actually winked. He walked away, calmly, like he hadn’t just blown up my night. Nathan sat quietly, looking at his empty glass of wine. When he finally spoke, I could hear the anger in his voice. “Your ex is Enzo Wayne?I nodded slowly. I hated the guilt I felt, like I’d just been caught doing something wrong even though I hadn’t done anything at all.
“As in the Enzo Wayne of Wayne Industries?” His voice rose. “And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”“I can’t even refer to him as your ex,” he went on. “He’s still your husband.”
“Nathan, please. It wasn’t… “It was,” he cut in. “That man just walked up here, called you his wife and you didn’t even flinch. He clearly has no intention of signing those divorce papers, Elena. You really think this is over?” “I’m sorry.” I replied shakily. “I didn’t want you to…” “To what?” Nathan’s eyes were full of hurt. “Feel like I’m being toyed with by some billionaire who thinks this is a game?” I reached for his hand, but he pulled it back. The rejection hurt so bad, like a slap across the face. “I just…” I exhaled loudly. “I didn’t want him to be part of my life anymore. I didn’t want him to define us.” Nathan laughed bitterly. “Well, too late. From what I just saw, he’s not signing those papers anytime soon. He’s enjoying this way too much, making me look like a fool.” “I love you.” I said quietly. “He doesn’t matter. He just… enjoys getting under my skin. That’s all.” “Yeah, well, he’s doing a damn good job.” “It’s only a matter of time before he’s out of our lives for good, I promise. Let’s just go, okay? We can get out of here.” Nathan looked at me like he didn’t believe a word before nodding. As we got up to leave, I glanced across the restaurant. Enzo was at his table, leaning back, toying with his wineglass and looking right at me. I had a feeling he’d been watching me the whole time. And when he raised his glass slightly, like a toast, I knew exactly what it meant. Round one was over. And he won this round.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."
I didn't sleep.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him walking away. Saw the look on his face, hurt, angry, done."I'm done chasing you."The words played on a loop in my head, taunting me, accusing me.By the time my alarm went off, I'd been staring at the ceiling for three hours, my phone clutche
He poured us wine and we fell into a rhythm. Me chopping, him stirring, both of us moving around the kitchen like we'd done this a thousand times before.Except we hadn't.In our old life, we'd been too broke for fancy ingredients and too busy for elaborate meals. Dinner had been takeout or somethi
After we hung up, I sat there staring at my phone, feeling something warm blooming in my chest.This was getting out of hand. I was getting out of hand.But I couldn't seem to stop.I was shelving books in the romance section, ironic right, when Maya came running over, phone in hand."Elena."Somet
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







