God, I mean it with every cracked piece of my stupid, hopeful heart.
He shouldn’t care. He has norightto care. Not after everything. He chose her. He walked into a gala on her arm. He stood beside her family, nodded along with their future plans, let their world swallow him whole.
And now he wants to stand here in front of me—in the house where he touched me, kissed me, whispered things I should’ve never believed—and pretend he has the right to be protective?
No.
Whatever connection we had died the second he chose her.
And if there’s any justice left in this universe, it should hurt him half as much as it’s hurting me.
The silence that follows is thick enough to choke on. He can’t decide whether to be angry or hurt or indifferent. And I can’t decide whether I want him to feel something or feel nothing at all. Because either way, it’s going to destroy me.
Silence stretches between us. A canyon full of everything we didn’t say.
“You made your choice, Lorenzo,” I whisper. “So let me make mine.”
He moves closer. Too close. The marble island presses into the back of my hips, trapping me between him and the counter. I refuse to let him cage me in, so I slide sideways, putting space between us.
“You have to see that this is best for everyone.” My voice shakes, but I keep going. “I go away. You marry Francesca. And everything works out the way it was supposed to.”
He watches me like he doesn’t recognize the language I’m speaking. Like logic is foreign to him.
“You’re hurting,” he says softly. “I understand that.”
“Do you?” I laugh, sharp and ugly. “Because if you understood anything about how I feel, you’d let me leave.”
“I owe it to Sienna to make sure you’re safe.”
That does it. A laugh rips out of me because the alternative is screaming until the entire city shakes.
“Bull crap.”
His brows draw together, offended, like I’m the unreasonable one. “What?”
“If Sienna were here and saw how you’ve treated me?” My voice trembles, but I don’t back down. “She’d be the first person to tell me to leave you.”
He flinches. Good Let something hurt him for once.
“She’d tell me I deserve better,” I push on, heat blistering through my chest. “That I shouldn’t stick around for scraps of affection while you publicly play house with someone else.”
His throat works, a harsh swallow. “I?—”
“No.” I drag a shaking hand over my cheeks, furious when it comes away wet. “I get it, Lorenzo. I really do. You chose her. You chose the safe choice. The expected choice.”
He steps toward me again, jaw tight, eyes storm-dark. “It’s not like that.”
“I don’t care what it’s like,” I snap, my voice splintering. “Because the only thing that matters is this?—”
My breath catches while my heart cracks And I finally say the words that have been clawing at my throat since the moment he walked through that door.
“I can’t stay here.”
Something in his expression cracks like I just struck bone. He reaches out, fingertips brushing my wrist, gentle, desperate.
“Elizabeth—”
I yank my hand back.
