When I opened them again, I looked straight at him with all the painful honesty the moment demanded.
“Please don’t call me that,” I asked quietly, firm but unyielding. “Don’t call me that, because it makes it sound like things have changed. And they haven’t. Nothing has changed, Enrico. What happened between us doesn’t erase what you did to me.”
The light drained from his face. Slowly, he seemed to realize that the spell of pleasure and surrender had broken, leaving me fully aware again.
He inhaled deeply, his posture stiffening, pain reflecting in his eyes.
“Valentina, I know we still have so much to work through, but—”
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” I cut in sharply. “That you can just ask for a chance without me having to forgive you, love you, or trust you? That doesn’t exist, Enrico. You can’t give a chance without those things.”
He swallowed hard, finally understanding the true depth of my resistance and fear.
“I’m willing to wait as long as it takes,” he said, his gaze locked on mine. “I don’t care how long. I just want to try to fix this. Us.”
A bitter laugh escaped my throat. I shook my head, frustrated, lost, tears burning in my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to find the strength to say what needed to be said.
“There is no fixing us, Enrico,” I said, defeated—because it was true. “I’m not fixable.”
“It still hurts. Even after everything… it still hurts to look at you and remember what we could have been.”
“There isn’t a single day I don’t wake up hating myself for losing you. And for knowing it was me who pushed you away.”
“And the fact that you feel that way doesn’t change anything. I wanted last night… I wanted us to be enough. But it wasn’t. You can memorize my body inside out, unravel it, make me scream your name as many times as you want—it won’t changeanything. Because it doesn’t matter that you own my pleasure. I’ll never be able to give myself completely again. Not to you. Not to anyone. Not ever. I don’t survive twice.”
I shrank in on myself after saying it. My skin wasn’t the only thing exposed in that moment.
“Don’t say that, Val…” Enrico pleaded, looking away. When he looked back at me, the misery on his face shattered my heart into even more pieces. “I… I couldn’t live knowing I’m responsible for something like that. I need to try to fix this. Please, Valentina.”
“It’s not justnot easy, Enrico,” I interrupted, my voice breaking. “It’s impossible.”
He stood completely still, absorbing my refusal, his expression turning dark and serious.
“I can’t do any of those things,” I confessed, my voice weak, trembling with everything I’d been holding back. “As much as I want to believe you, as much as I want to forget everything, I can’t. You broke my heart. You destroyed my life. I can’t just ignore that and try again.”
A heavy, suffocating silence settled between us. We stood there, motionless, staring at each other, the space between us filled with pain, desire, and everything left unsaid.
A loud, insistent noise startled us both violently—I didn’t even know how much time had passed. Someone was pounding hard on the bedroom door, ripping through the silence and dragging us brutally back to reality.
“Enrico, wake the fuck up!” André’s familiar voice came through the thick wood, impatient. “You need to wake up now!”
Enrico took a deep breath, rubbing his face as he threw me a quick, embarrassed look. Still naked, he walked quickly to the door without opening it, shouting back irritably.
“I’m awake, damn it! Knock that shit off before you wake Clara!”
The pounding stopped immediately, replaced by tense silence on the other side.
“Okay,” André replied, calmer now but clearly surprised. “Then open the door. It’s important.”
Enrico looked back at me, concern etched into his face.
“Give me a minute,” he told his brother, walking back toward me.
“I need to see what he wants,” he added quietly as I started looking for my clothes.
“Shit,” Enrico muttered as he grabbed his pants—when we realized the same thing at the same time.
“My clothes are in the kitchen.”
