Page 196 of Matteo

I contemplate his words, and file them away in my heart. We did click. And we are similar. And everything happened quickly, almost like it was fated to.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “But I thought you were lying to me … and that you weren’t the person I thought you were. I couldn’t get that out of my head. It was like a program looping around continuously.” Another pause, then, “But not anymore.”

“Who do you think I am now?” My voice drops to a whisper.

“Someone who isn’t capable of such deception. I wish … I wish we could start over. I wish you would forgive me.”

I stare back into those dark eyes, trying to slow down the speed of the thoughts whizzing through me. Is there a clear way forward for us?

“Tell me what I can do to make it up to you,” he asks, almost like he can read my mind.

My eyes start to well up, so I blink a few times to stem the tears and stop them from falling. “I-I'm not sure.”

His expression crumples, like I’ve delivered a fatal blow. This wasn't the answer he expected.

“Don’t walk away,” he says.

I fold my arms, more to hold myself together than anything else.

“I’m not asking for us to go to dinner tonight or go for a walk in Central Park like everything’s okay. I know it’s not,” he says, his voice sounding raspier with every word. “I’m not asking you to forget what I did, or to pretend it didn’t happen. I’m not asking you to give me a pass. I behaved like an asshole and I didn’t treat you well.”

I open my mouth, then pause, because I'm not sure how we move on from here. I understand why he behaved the way he did, and I see now how I perpetuated the secrecy and lies. But how do we move on?

“What are you asking, Matteo?”

“I’m asking for nothing. I’m just telling you that I was wrong. I made a call based on fear and incomplete information, and I hurt you. And for that, I’m so, so sorry.”

I study his face, and the look in his eyes. He’s so stripped back. So vulnerable. This is a man who knows he’s messed up and he’s being painfully honest.

“I also messed up,” I confess. “And I don’t know where we go from here, either. I don’t know what this looks like now, but you need to know something, Matteo. If I wanted to destroy your company, you wouldn’t have one.”

His lips part in shock. Then he laughs. “I believe it, because you’re so fucking sassy. So fucking super smart. And I was so lucky to have you.”

Was.

It pains that he’s talking about us in the past tense, but I need to leave him with no doubt of how he made me feel.

“You need to understand,” I continue, “not because I need you to believe me now, but because that’s who I am. You never understood why I cared so much about optics, about reputation while we were together, but I built myself up from nothing. I built myself piece by piece, and that’s all I have. My reputation is everything I’ve ever had to protect.”

His eyes widen, and he looks to be hanging onto my every word. I inhale a long breath, feeling unsteady. “I’m not telling you this to convince you of anything, or because I need you to believe me. I’m telling you because I deserve to say my truth.”

He nods. “You do, and I see that.”

“I need time,” I say finally.

There's a weighty pause before he answers. “You can have all the time in the world.”

And then, because he looks so despondent, I try to reassure him. “It doesn’t mean I’m walking away, but I can’t pretend that this didn’t change things between us.”

“I know it has.”

“Let’s just take it one moment at a time.” I get up slowly and head for the door.

“Elizabeth.”

I turn around, with my hand on the door.

“Thank you, for everything.”