She had no answer.
There was no answer. Because he was right about all of it.
Every word.
Enzo looked at her for a long moment, taking her in with those dark eyes that had always seen more of her than she was comfortable with.
Then he picked up his coat from where he'd set it on the arm of the sofa.
"Wait," Isabella said. "Enzo, wait..."
He walked to the door.
"We'll deal with the damage," he said, his hand on the handle. "Together. Like we always do." A pause. "But tonight I can't look at you."
He opened the door.
"Enzo, please...."
The door closed behind him.
The sound of it...quiet, careful, not slammed....was somehow worse than any anger would have been.
Isabella stood in the middle of her apartment, surrounded by candlelight and the scent of a wine she'd opened for a man who didn't exist.
And then something broke.
Not dramatically. Not loudly.
