Page 64 of Enzo

I unclench my fist, as something pulls inside me. I know firsthand that people lie easily. Father is living proof of that.

“So you really are in real estate.” Molly looks at me.

“Excuse me?”

“You weren’t making that up.”

I’m reminded of us in Venice, when she told me she was a teacher and I told her I was in finance and real estate. It feels like a lifetime has passed between that conversation and where we were then and now.

“I don’t lie.”

***

MOLLY

Enzo doesn’t believe me, and I don’t blame him. Guilt wraps around me like an aura I can’t shake.

I can't think.

I can't focus.

Seeing him again was like a punch to my stomach and I’m not sure I’ve recovered. He’s in the same city as me. I don’t even know if he’s staying the night, or when he arrived. He just showed up, out of the blue. Meeting him has left me feeling worse than I already did.

He hates me, that is clear to see. He’s so different from how he was back in Venice. The man I met that night and danced with is no more.

A torrent of anxiety rips through me. Desperate to prove my innocence, I pull out my cell phone and start looking for the email I sent to Kiki by mistake.

“Journalists turned up on my mother's doorstep.”

I stop tapping my phone.

Oh God.

They got to his mother.

Something in my stomach sinks. “No.” I look at him, an overwhelming sense of guilt coming over me. “Because of the video?”

His jaw tightens. “Because people started asking questions about my family.”

I feel sick.

“I’m sorry, Enzo,” I whisper. “If I could turn back time, I would. I’m sorry for your suffering.”

“I’m not suffering anything. My mother is.”

My throat feels dry. “I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say, even though it doesn’t come close to making up for the pain I’ve caused. I finally find the email. “Here, look. This is proof.”

“Of what?” He sounds annoyed, like he wants me gone.

I show him my phone and the email. “See?”

He glances at it casually, then peers closer.

“Look at the timestamp. Look who I sent it to, and look what I said in the message.”

Miss T — I wanted you to experience the masked ball! This place is unbelievable. Here are a few clips I took for you.

He turns silent, his brow creasing. He reads it again, then he takes the phone from me and examines the email closely. His face changes, only slightly, but I see it. The hard press of his mouth eases.