My bag hits the floor with a thump, and every set of eyes turns to me.
I dip my head. "Sorry."
My heart pounds way too fast and loud.
I know that name.
I know who he is.
Now that it has been said, it clicks in my head.
Enzo.
The man who ruined my family, caused my dad to take his own life.
Okay, maybe nothim, but his father did.
Years before Dad died, right when the Mancini family and the Marino family parted ways, things changed. Dad suddenly became busier, more harried.
I don't know the details of the falling out. It was adult stuff, and I was both closeted from it and too young. But I remember the pain of the thundering voices.
I also remember the boy I loved from age seven, a boy who was my savior, my hero, my friend, even though he was older. And even when he got older, he was still there, nice and sweet and kind. Right up until he just wasn't.
He and his family were gone, and Dad told me how that family, his former best friend, was going to be the death of him, that he would ruin him.
And Dad was right.
I'm betting the apple doesn't fall far.
We were just kids, but he was a teen when that happened, and I was...lost then. Without him, I was alone, especially as Dad withdrew more.
Enzo made no effort to reach out.
I did when I was older. I did after Dad's death, too.
But...nothing.
I couldn't find him.
Because as Dad said, we were now persona non grata, we were exiled, and he had no choice but to try to forge different paths.
Ones I'm convinced led to his death.
I don't listen to his words, just the deep sound of his voice. And when the meeting is over, Ruby leans in. "Getting back to work?"
"No."
I don't know what is in my voice, but this time she doesn't joke. She just nods, steps back, and leaves.
And I wait, determined to speak to him.
Enzo waits until the last person leaves and then he closes the door and leans against it, folding his arms.
"Well?" I ask.
He smirks, and I want to slap it off his face. "Well, what? I can see you're wearing pants today. Which means less chance you will accidentally flash someone. Are you at least wearing panties?"
"You—"
