Chapter 5

I had tossed the card that came with the lilies and left the bouquet at the library, but somehow the words still echoed in my head and the memory attached to it kept replaying like a movie.

I ran a hand through my hair as I walked round the kitchen, thinking of how to finally get Enzo off my back. I’d avoided calling Nathan all evening becuase I had no idea what to say. The look on his face earlier at the library still made me feel guilty.

Eventually, I finally grabbed my phone, scrolled to Enzo’s number, and hesitated for a full five seconds before I hit the call.

It rang and rang. I was about to hang up when he picked up.

“Hello love.”

“Stop messing with me, Enzo,” I snapped. “No more dropping by the library. No more flowers. This has to stop.”

“I’m just trying to get what’s mine,” he said quietly.

“What’s yours?” I asked. “You keep saying that, but I don’t have anything that belongs to you.”

He stayed quiet, then in that deep voice if his..

“You. You belong to me.”

I closed my eyes, my heart racing for reasons I do not care for. “Stop living in the past, Enzo. Whatever we had, it’s over. That’s never going to happen again.”

“What did I do to you that was so wrong?” he asked, the amusement gone now. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you,” I said. “ I did..years ago. But I’ve moved on and you should too. Save us both this headache. Sign the papers and get out of my life for good this time.”

He went quiet for so long I thought the line had disconnected. Then he said softly, “All I did was try to build something for us.”

“Not this again,” I murmured.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he continued. “Thinking you couldn’t stay mad at me forever. You didn’t date anyone for five years, I knew you were waiting for me too.”

My grip on the phone tightened. “I do not like the fact that you kept tabs on me. That’s creepy, unhealthy and beyond arrogant, even for you.”

He laughed bitterly. “ You should at least hear me out. Give me a chance to make you see things differently. Meet me, Elena. Tomorrow. Corner diner. I promise I’ll behave.”

I hesitated, then realized it was better to get it over with. “Fine. But after that, don’t call me again.”

The next evening, I headed straight to the diner right after leaving the library. The place was alive, the clatter of plates and the smell of coffee. I saw Enzo near the window, waving me over. 

He was dressed in black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, looking all casual. He looked like someone who spent half his week in the gym, not behind a desk signing contracts.

“You look tired,” he said as soon as I sat.

“I didn’t come here for small talk.”

He looked at me for a long time, his face unreadable. “You don’t love him, Elena. I know that and you know it too.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re acting crazy.”

“Maybe.” he said, leaning forward. “But I know you. You still think about me. You still remember.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I remember the lies. The broken promises. The other women. The times you conveniently forgot you had a wife. How you chose money over me, over our marriage, over everything. Should I keep going? Because trust me, I remember plenty.”

He exhaled. “I’ve made mistakes. I thought if I could build something, make something of myself, I could give you the life you deserved. I see now I was wrong, I should’ve done things differently. But I can fix it. Just give me one more chance.”

 “One more chance?” I laughed softly.  “You really have some nerve.”

For a moment, I could see a glimpse of the man I once loved, before it vanished behind that unreadable mask.

He leaned forward. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way then.” He stood, dropped a few hundred dollar bills under his cup. “I’ll be in touch, Mrs. Wayne,”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, but he was already walking away.

By the time I got home, I realized the truth, Enzo wasn’t going anywhere. He was back. 

I tried calling Nathan but it went straight to voicemail. Minutes later, a text came in.

I don’t want to talk right now. I’ll call tomorrow.

I stared at the message, I felt bad knowing Nathan was still angry and I couldn’t even fault him.

I dropped my phone on the couch, leaned back and stared at the ceiling. My mind refused to settle. Enzo’s voice echoed again and again, like I hadn’t already spent years trying to get him out of my mind.

I tried sleeping, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Instead, my mind drifted back to a time before everything went wrong. Before pride. Before the broken promises. Before Enzo turned into someone else.

Back to our wedding night.

It was ridiculous now that I thought about it.

Completely ridiculous.

Not the perfect, glamorous type people post about online. No roses on the bed or candlelit hotel suites. We were too broke for that. Too young . Too in love to care.

We checked into a tiny lodge with ugly wallpapers and a bed that squeaked everytime we moved. The elderly owner gave us a wink that made me want to bury my face in Enzo’s chest.

We had spent the whole day dancing, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. But the moment we stepped into the room, everything crashed at once.

I was still in my wedding dress, laughing because Enzo couldn’t figure out how to get the window open and kept saying, “This thing is older than my grandfather.”

He finally got it open on the third try, letting a cool breeze rush in. Then he turned around and whatever joke I’d been about to make died instantly.

He looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Like he couldn’t decide whether to fall at my feet or lift me onto the bed.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me in by the waist.

Then the zipper of my dress got stuck.

Not halfway down. Right at the top, just wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t move,” Enzo said behind me, sounding far too confident for a man who had zero experience with wedding gowns.

“I’m not moving,” I said, already sweating. “You’re pulling my hair.”

“That’s because your hair is everywhere.”

“Well, that’s because you’re pulling it!”

He said something else that I didn’t quite catch.

Then, I heard a rip. A loud riiip.

I gasped. “Lorenzo!”

“Okay, okay,” he said quickly. “Good news and bad news.”

“Oh my God. Which one first?”

“Good news, it’s open.”

“And the bad news?!

“...It’s very open.”

I turned around so fast I nearly fell. “Enzo! You ripped my wedding dress!”

He started laughing then, that absolutely gorgeous laugh that used to melt every bit of common sense I had. 

“You’re unbelievable,” I said, trying not to smile.

“You married Mr. unbelievable,” he replied, pulling me to him. “Too late to complain now.”

The kiss started slow, soft then deepened quickly as we pulled at each other’s clothes. His hands slid along my back making me shake with desire.

I remember him whispering, “Tell him you’re mine,”

And I whispered it back, breathless.

Everything after that was clumsy, perfect, beautiful and a little ridiculous.

We couldn’t stop laughing because the bed kept creaking.

At one point, Enzo paused, looked down at me and said,

“Babe, do you think we’re going too hard? I think the bed is judging us.”

I laughed so hard the bed creaked again, making him laugh too and then neither of us could breathe because we were kissing and laughing at the same time.

He moved with so much tenderness, like he wanted to mark every inch of me. His mouth traced my shoulder, my neck, his tongue was in my ears. My hands in his hair.

We made love like we had all the time in the world. 

Afterward, I lay on his chest, our fingers intertwined, his heartbeat slow and steady against my ear as he traced circles on my arm.

“We’re going to have a beautiful life, you and me.” He whispered.

And for a while…that was true.

We were happy. So happy.

Before the late nights started.

Before the contract and deals and “just one more meeting.”

Before the “business trips” that lasted days…then weeks.

Before I met a new version of him, the one that came home tired, distracted, smelling like someone else’s perfume.

I felt a sharp ache in my chest at the memory, pulling me back into the present, into my dark room and the weight sitting heavily in my chest.

That night had felt like a beginning.

I had no idea it would be the highest point of our marriage before the fall neither of us saw coming.

I learned something no one tells you;

That sometimes love isn’t enough.