Page 76 of Bellini Bound
“Allie, please.” Enzo’s voice came out ragged.
I believed, deep down, he was scared, fearful that after prolonged exposure to his dark world, I would choose to leave of my own accord at some point down the road. He was trying to control the situation by pushing me away now so he could shield his heart from being hurt in the future.
Awfully big leap to assume his heart is involved simply because yours flutters every time you look at him. This marriage was forced upon him, the same as it was upon you. There’s no requirement that says if you develop feelings, he has to reciprocate.
Guess there was only one way to find out.
“Look me in the eye right now and tell me you want me to leave. If you can do that, I’ll pack up and go; vanish from your life like I was never a part of it to begin with.”
For a full minute, all we did was stare at each other.
I’d been so sure my bold demand would be enough to put an end to the discussion over my departure. But as the silence stretched between us, my confidence wavered, and the terrifying reality that he might actually cast me aside began to sink in.
What if I’d miscalculated, and Enzo truly wanted me gone from his life? Could I even survive the blunt force of that type of rejection? Or would I die of a broken heart before I reached the destination of my foreign exile?
My chest ached as I held my breath, awaiting his reply.
Eyes pinching shut, he rasped, “I need you to leave, Allie.”
Hope surged in my veins. Not only was he refusing to look at me as he uttered those pained words, but they weren’t the ones I’d asked for.
Easing off the mattress, I padded to where he stood. When I placed my hands on the sides of his face, he tried to jerk away, but I held firm, not letting him go.
With my thumbs, I stroked over his sharp cheekbones. “Tell me the truth.”
All the air left his lungs in a rush as he dropped his forehead to mine. “I’m not ready to let you go.”
Tears burned behind my eyes at his confession, and my voice came out watery. “Then don’t. Ever.”
Shaking his head, he whispered, “I’m not good enough for you.”
My heart broke because I could tell he honestly believed that.
While my husband bore numerous physical scars, he also carried invisible ones. Low self-worth was often seen in victims of childhood abuse. Mistreated long enough, they became convinced that there was something wrong with them to deserve the overly harsh, cruel punishments handed down from those who were supposed to love and care for them.
God, I wanted nothing more than to go back in time and hug the little boy version of Enzo, to reassure him that he wasn’t the problem—his father was. And that he was deserving of affection, of devotion, of love.
“Open your eyes, baby,” I said gently.
Slowly, his lids lifted, revealing the defeat written in his hazel eyes, like he had already accepted that he’d lost me.
“I’mthe one who gets to determine if the man I’m with is good enough, Enzo. Not you. Not anyone else.”
“But—”
I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “We might’ve gotten off to a rocky start, forced into this marriage because of the actions of others, but now I choose to stay of my own free will. And I chooseyouto be my partner for the rest of my life. For better or worse, in sickness or in health, until death do us part.”
His swallow was audible. “Allie.”
“Can we do this for real? Not because anyone is making us, but because we want to?”
Enzo’s arms banded around me, crushing me tight to his chest as he buried his face in my neck. He hauled in a shaky breath before replying, “Yes. I want that so fucking much.”
“Me too.” A tear spilled over my lashes, rolling down my cheek, as I held him close.
Clinging together as if our lives depended on it, we absorbed the weight of our mutual decision to start fresh.
Today officially marked our new beginning.
