“Zara Falcone,” she murmured, as if testing the sound.
I liked it.
I liked it more than I should have.
I took her hand and led her to the window, the city spreading out before us. “Look,” I said. “All of this. It’s yours now. I’m yours now.”
She turned to me, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Neither do I.” I brushed a curl from her face. “But we’ll figure it out together.”
Chapter Thirteen
Zara
The ink on the marriage certificate was barely dry when my body finally caught up with what I’d done.
Panic struck instantly, tightening my chest like a vice. Suddenly, the room became suffocating, air too thin. Lorenzo conversed quietly with the judge, steady and unaffected, as if this were routine business, while I sat there feeling as though the floor had vanished beneath me.
I needed air.
A bathroom.
Space.
Anything to stop the crushing pressure building inside my ribs.
One minute, I was standing in the living room kissing my brand-new husband, staring at the signature that legally tied me to him. The next, I’m collapsed on the bathroom floor.
The first thing I recognized was the marble against my palms, cherishing the way it bit into my knees. The second was the sound of my own breathing—ragged, too fast, wrong. I couldn’t get enough air. It was as if my lungs had forgotten how to work.
The sound of it filled the room—ragged, uneven gasps that echoed off the walls while panic clawed its way higher and higher up my throat.
Oh God.
What had I done?
Behind me, Lorenzo’s voice filled the room, “Zara?”
My mouth opened, but the air wouldn’t come. I pressed my palm against my chest, trying to push air in, but it was like breathing through a straw the size of a needle.
Lorenzo came into view above me, and the look on his face—I’d never seen it before. His eyes were wide, darting over my body. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, yanking my hand away from my chest.
“Zara. What happened?” he asked while shaking me. Not hard, but I could feel the panic in his grip.
I jerked away. My back hit the wall, and I scrambled, trying to push myself up. “Don’t. I’m fine…I just need to?—”
“Everyone out!” Lorenzo barked into the hall, sending the judge scrambling.
I tried to stand, legs trembling as the world tilted.
I’d spent years hiding these cracks, building walls so the world could never see me weak. But here I was, unraveling, the mask slipping — I couldn’t stay here. The thought of him watching me come apart felt unbearable.
“Zara.” His voice was low, controlled. “Stop.”
“Just leave me alone,” I gasped, stumbling toward the hallway. “I just need?—”
I hadn’t made it two steps before his hand pulled my waist.
