Page 109 of Enzo

“You're starting to grow on me, regardless.”

Something shifts in his expression, and he looks away quickly.

“Where are we going today?” I ask him.

He puts on his shades, and I put on mine.

“I want to take you to the conservatory in Central Park.”

“Central Park?” I squeal. “I've always wanted to go. I've always seen it in TV shows.”

“Today Cinderella, you shall go into Central Park.”

“It's an unforgettable place. You’re lucky to have it on your doorstep.” I pause, thinking about all the things he has to be grateful for. “You're lucky in a lot of ways.”

He looks at me with a peculiar expression. “I know how lucky I am.”

A short while later, we leave the penthouse and walk the few blocks to Central Park, my excitement growing the moment we step through the gates. Enzo leads us towards the Conservatory Water, and I take in the bare trees, winding paths and glimpses of the city rising beyond them.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmur. And this is the perfect spring day to be here. I’m so grateful for everything I’ve experienced this week. I turn to Enzo.

“Let me have that, please?” I motion at the ridiculous way he’s wearing the camera around his neck. So not Enzo-esque.

“Have what?”

“This.” My hands going around his neck as I reach for the camera strap.

It happens slowly, and for a second it feels like time pauses. My outstretched arms go over his head, slipping the camera strap over but I catch his eyes on me, and I freeze. We’re so close, our bodies almost touching. His face is a mere two inches from mine, but he’s so poised and still, and he doesn’t move away even though I’ve invaded his body space.

“Sorry.”

The moment breaks as I grab the camera and look around, even as my heart pounds fiercely inside my chest. I’m not sure what happened. If I’m imagining it, or if the thought of us soon going our separate ways hits hard.

Or if it’s what I haven’t told him yet about Luca’s project.

Maybe all these things are colliding all at once.

That’s why I need a photograph. To remember this time, and to remember Enzo.

The nicest man I’ve ever known.

“This is a pretty backdrop.”

“The Alice in Wonderland statue,” he murmurs. “How fitting.”

“Where's your bodyguard when I need one?” I look around, expecting to see the darkly suited man that hovers like a shadow near us whenever we’re out. I don’t see him.

“Molly, I don't want a stranger taking a photo of us.”

“It’s a disposable camera. The photo isn’t going anywhere.”

He relents with a huff and gives me a disapproving look when I ask a stranger to take a photo of us. “Would you mind taking a photo of us, please?”

I walk back to Enzo. “Smile,” I tell him.

We’re standing apart from each other. This won’t do. “We look like strangers.” I shuffle closer to him.

“We are strangers.”