All Chapters of Her last name, His claim: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The second day in Paris was long in the best possible way.Enzo had his first meeting in the morning, a two hour affair in a glass building near the business district that I had absolutely no interest in attending. So while he sat in a boardroom being intimidatingly competent, I took myself on a solo tour of the city with a croissant in one hand and a badly folded map in the other, because I refused to be the kind of person who stared at their phone in Paris.I found a bookshop on a narrow street that seemed to exist outside of time entirely, the kind with books stacked floor to ceiling and a cat asleep on the counter and an elderly owner who spoke no English but somehow understood exactly what I was looking for anyway. I spent an hour there and left with ten books and zero regrets.I met Enzo for lunch at a café near the hotel. He arrived loosening his tie, looking devastating in his suit, and sat down across from me and said, "How was your morning?" like a completely normal person w

Maplewood looked exactly the same.But then, of course it did. It was Maplewood. The same Main Street, the same storefronts, the same faces waving from the same spots they'd been waving from since I was twelve years old. The world had not rearranged itself in our absence. The town had not noticed we were gone and quietly transformed while we were in Paris.It just looked like home.Except home felt different now.Or maybe I was different. Like something I'd been carrying on my shoulders for years had been quietly set down somewhere between a bridge over the Seine and a hotel room with balcony doors and I hadn't noticed until I arrived back without it.Enzo drove us from the airport with one hand on the wheel and the other holding mine on the console between us, which had apparently become our default driving configuration without either of us deciding it. The radio played something soft. Outside, Maplewood rolled past in the late afternoon light an

The car ride was fourteen minutes.I know because I watched the clock on the dashboard the entire time, eyes fixed on the numbers changing, because it was either that or look at him and I wasn't ready to look at him yet. My hands were in my lap, fingers laced together, squeezing in a way that was either calming me down or the only outlet available for what was building in my chest.Enzo drove in complete silence.He didn't attempt conversation, didn't offer pre-emptive explanations, didn't fill the space with anything. He just drove, lokking straight ahead.Engaged.The word kept coming up. I kept setting it aside and it kept coming back. The image of her at the table. The way she'd said it. The way Enzo's hand had gone still under mine. Had he seen her come in?I filed that question away with all the others.The penthouse was quiet. He held the door, I walked through without looking at him, and I stood in the centre of the living room while he closed the door behind us.I set my bag

Enzo came back later that night and of course, we made up as best as we could before I left for Maplewood because I had to go to work.On Wednesday, I woke up to my phone buzzing.Not a call. But a series of notifications arriving in quick succession, the kind of cluster that meant either something significant had happened or Judy had found a new brunch spot and was sending the location ten different ways along with countless memes.I reached for the phone with my eyes still half closed.Instagram. I got tagged in something. Multiple tags, actually, from accounts I didn't recognise, the kind with no profile pictures and three digit follower counts that existed solely to stir things and disappear.I sat up.The post was public. A photograph of Enzo at some event, beside him, close enough to get into his skin, smiling up at him, her ginger hair catching the light.Amanda.The caption read simply: some things are timeless with a small heart and a date tag from three years ago and absolut

I didn’t tell Enzo I was going to come to the office when he left home this morning. I wanted it to be a surprise and I wasn’t kidding about being in this with him.His assistant didn't know what to do with me.She was young, efficient, with the composure of someone trained to manage unexpected arrivals without revealing that they were unexpected. She looked at me across the reception desk of Wayne Industries with a carefully neutral expression and said, "Do you have an appointment?""No," I said pleasantly. "I'm his wife."Something shifted in her face. Not surprise exactly, more like she was thinking of what specific protocol was required."Mrs. Wayne," she said, and her entire manner changed immediately. "He's in a meeting right now but I can…""How long?"She glanced at her screen. "It should be wrapped up in about ten minutes.""I'll wait," I said, and sat down on the sleek sofa in the reception area. I crossed my legs and looked around at the space Enzo had built.I'd been here