I groaned again.
“Will you stop nicknaming my child?—”
“My goddaughter, thank you very much,” he interjected.
“I don’t want her thinking her name is actually Ella Bella Arabella. People will think I’m cruel.”
“I think people already do, honey. I heard people think you even give her chocolate.” Enzo gasped, and Ella giggled.
“Be serious for once in your life,” I said.
“And you be fun again. I miss the fun Cole,” he bit back, his snark-o-meter shooting through the roof.
“Iamfun,” I grumbled.
“You are? Then somebody needs to tell your face, your voice, your posture, and your personality.”
I growled. Yeah, I did. Like an animal.
Fuck my life. I wasn’t doing myself any favors, was I?
“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.”
“I know.” He brushed nonexistent hair off his shoulder. “Drink up,” he said with a frown.
I picked up the mug, but before I drank, I stared at him.
“Are you sure it’s not a spell or something?”
“Why do you care?” He shrugged. “You don’t believe in that stuff anyway.”
“You didn’t believe in that stuff either until last year.”
Enzo rolled his eyes.
“Of course I did. I grew up with Lilian, remember? I just… I lost my faith in those things. But then…”
“But then you got my brother’s di—p.”
Enzo raised an eyebrow.
“Dip? Really?”
“Do you prefer I say disco-stick?”
Enzo gagged.
“Ew, no, thanks. And I didn’t get your brother’s… dip.” He glanced at Ella and smiled. If it weren’t for her, our language would be more explicit and a tad more normal. Oh the sacrifices we made for our children. “I believed in love again. Which is what you need!”
I stopped and spat the tea back out.
“So this is a spell.”
Enzo groaned.
“What would be the problem if it were?”
I laughed.
