Page 80 of Enzo's Vow
His face crumpled, a mask of disbelief and pain.
I tipped my chin, clamping my teeth together to stop myself from saying more, from taking the words back.
Shoulders sagging, he peered at the ground, at the lone leaf tumbling past on the night breeze. “I never wanted to walk away.”
I grit my teeth, ignoring the sting accommodating the low rasp in his voice. “How can you say that after you made believe you wanted to marry someone else?” I jabbed my chest a little harder than intended. “You made me believe I’d been played, that I meantnothing.” A mock laugh escaped my throat. “Maybe if you’d stopped me from getting on the plane, maybe if you hadn’t trampled my heart before discarding me… but you didn’t. Now you’re back after this long! After so many gut-wrenching nights, after I’ve spent months rebuilding my life? How can I even trust you?”
He swept his hands through his hair. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.”
“And the worst part is I hate myself more,” I confessed, the words tearing from my throat. “Because I wished I’d given into you, wished we’d shared one night together so I’d have one memory to hold on to.” I swiped at the tears streaking my face, my heart clenching so painfully, it robbed me of breath. “You made me regret my one vow.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Don’t,” he pleaded, his voice thick with despair. “Please, don’t hate yourself, Gemma. You held true to what you believed, what youstillbelieve. I respected that then, and I respect it now. You made the right choice.”
“You bet I did.” I stomped my foot, rewarded with prickles up my leg and regretting the action.
He stepped into my space, grasping both my hands. “I would have come… the same week you left, I would have been here.”
What? I stilled, holding my breath. Then why stay in Italy?
He squeezed my fingers, his green eyes beseeching. “After Lucio’s wedding, I contacted the jet.” The lines around his mouth deepened, his jaw clenching so tight the muscle jumped. His eyes, usually bright and intense, were shadowed with a dull ache. “I was about to leave, but then… my mother got into a car accident.”
Goodness, Carina wasn’t my favorite person, but I’d never wish this on her or anyone. Vertigo struck, and I swayed on my feet, gripping his hands for balance. “Is she…”
“She’s alive. After many surgeries and a long recovery.” A soft smile tugged at his lips. “Every single time, though, she begged me to go to you, begged me to get you back. She wants us both to be happy.”
Carina wanted us to be happy? My head spun. The same Carina who sabotaged our marriage at every turn, who threatened my life, who couldn’t stand the sight of me?ThatCarina wantedus happy? It was like hearing the devil had suddenly become a saint. My gut twisted with a mixture of confusion and a deep, bone-chilling unease. But he believed it. The hope, the relief in his eyes, said as much. Was he naive? Blinded by his love for his mother? Or was he withholding something from me? Protecting her? Protecting himself? I studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, any hint of the truth. But all I saw was the man I loved, the man who had hurt me so deeply, the man who now asked me to trust him again. And I didn’t know if I could. As for Carina, I couldn’t erase the months of mistrust, the memories of her cruelty. I’d have to see it for myself to believe it.
“I couldn’t just leave my mother in the hospital. This is why I never came after you, not because I didn’t want to.”
He licked his lips, the action sparking a deep urge within me. Part of me wanted to throw myself into his arms and never let go. But another part, the part that had survived the last six months, was screaming at me to be careful, to protect myself. “And what about now? Is she… is she okay?” Deep down, I meant the words. As much as I didn’t trust Carina, a part of me pitied the broken woman.
“She’s in a wheelchair, residing with full-time carers in Rome.” Tears pooled in his eyes. “She was right. I should have followed her advice and come after you sooner.”
My heart clenched. The stress he must have endured, the worry… not only for his mother, but over where we stood, too. “I wished you’d reached me, called, or written a letter, anemaileven.” I rolled my eyes, recalling the day I learned he’d sent my ex fiance an email.
He smirked at my last pun. “You have no idea how many times I almost called, but I was terrified. If I’d heard your voice, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. I would have come running.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, taking his time to stroke through the strands.
God help me how I missed his touch.
His eyes shuddered close as though reveling in the feel. “I convinced myself it was better to wait and face you in person.”
I frowned, imagining how I would have reacted if he had called during my darkest days. Without question, I would have hung up on him.
“I made a vow before God to love and honor you. I know I broke it, I messed up, but I’ll spend my life proving to you I can live up to it. To be the husband you deserve. Because… you’re my wife.” He stepped closer, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not giving up. You can hate me, you can run, you can pretend I don’t exist, but you are mine, Gemma. I love you.”
His words were a balm, a soothing ointment I’d needed for so long. My chin wobbled, and I swiped at a tear. Only a fool would trust him, would give him another chance. Even though I remained skeptical, I couldn’t deny what my heart screamed. “I love you, too.”
He jerked me close, my breath hitching as he slanted his lips over mine. It wasn’t soft. It was rough, possessive, like he was staking a claim. Silky heat invaded my mouth, liquifying my limbs. I looped my arms around his neck, unable to resist a second longer. His hands slid down my back, each fingertip pressing into my flesh. I was a fool, no doubt about it. And if this turned out to be another trick, another game… God knew I wouldn’t survive it. None of that mattered, though, not with his skilled lips manipulating mine. In an instant, I swore a vow, too. I vowed to kiss this man every day until my last.
Epilogue
Enzo
‘Welcome to our wedding. Gemma and Enzo. We’re so glad you’re here.’
We walked hand-in-hand out of the ceremony, past the sign pointing toward the reception in our yard. I glimpsed Gemma in her lace dress. She’d been explaining the details to the other women—bateau neckline, mermaid silhouette—all of which meant nothing to me. But seeing her genuinely happy for the first time in what felt like forever was worth more than any designer dress or fancy neckline.
I’d spent another week with her in Australia, giving her time to wrap things up and say goodbye to her mother before we moved back to Lombardy. The instant we landed, all I wanted to do was drag her to the town hall. Get the paperwork done, make it official, make her mine.
