“Enzo, Fox is alive. I-I don’t need help. I came to tell you.”
“Fox is dead, Rosalie. We buried him.” He continued to gently cradle my face. “He’s dead. He’s gone. You have to accept that?—”
“Fox is Evan, Enzo!”
He continued to stare at me, his dark brows crinkled.
“Fox is Evan,” I repeated. I launched into the full story, right down to seeing him again, and how both Ethan and Cole now knew he was alive.
“A-Are you serious?” He let his hands fall away from me.
“Yes,” I choked out. “He’s alive.”
“H-He’s alive?”
I nodded.
“H-He’s been with-with you? All this time?”
“Yes.”
“He came into my home. I-I didn’t recognize him. He destroyed our house. That… no. That wasn’t Fox. Rosalie, please. Leave here and get some help, OK?”
“Enzo—”
“I’m worried for you.”
“My husband is a writer,” I whispered. “He writes my favorite books. His name is Evan Beyers, but he was once Fox Evans. Constantino De Santis. His father is Santino De Santis. Kurt Evans. The Carpenter. I’m not crazy. I’m not lying. We married. We live together with Anson and Klaus as a new family. We started over. Evan is Foxy.”
Enzo let out a shaky breath, more tears falling.
“Really?” he choked out.
I nodded.
“You swear to me?”
“Yes.”
He cried softly, his head in his hands. I let him, not knowing whether to comfort him.
Finally, his sobs subsided, and he wiped his eyes.
“Enzo?” I ventured softly.
“Why did you come to tell me?” he whispered, staring at me, his long lashes still wet from crying.
“Because you needed to know.”
“Why? What does it change? He didn’t want us anymore. He left. He took you with him.”
“You let me go,” I said softly.
He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh.
“Enzo…?”
“This has to be a fucking nightmare,” he said, shaking his head again. “I’ve lost my fucking mind down here.”
