Page 11 of Let Me Love You


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Friend. I let go of a flustered breath, and he circled my forearm, unexpectedly drawing me closer. Swallowing my personal space. Something a friend wouldn’t do. “The second I left him last year, you moved me into the apartment next to yours, and—”

“Yeah, to watch out for you and Chiara. To keep you safe.”

“And did you force your neighbor to move out so I could move in the same way you forced Thomas to confess about the cheating?”

I’d been living next to Enzo in the city since the separation, only five minutes away from the home I’d shared with Thomas. Part of the agreement with Thomas was that I live nearby with our daughter.

Enzo happened to already be living in the area, and when he’d mentioned the place next to his was available, it seemed too good to be true. But it hadn’t been fate, it’d been grade-A Enzo interference. He was about as frustrating when it came to my safety as my mother was regarding my love life.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” was all the stubborn man would give me. Not a shocker.

“From what? Going down dark halls with strange men?” It was a joke, but he didn’t seem to find me funny.

“If I have to, yes.” He let go of my wrist but didn’t back away. No, he was still so close it wouldn’t take much for him to give me yet another birthday kiss. “Listen, I don’t want to fight on your birthday.”

“Then you should’ve waited until tomorrow to confess your guilt.”

“I’m so sorry, Maria,” he rasped. “You’re right. I suppose I owe you a birthday do-over.”

The sudden distressed look of his hurt my heart, so I admitted, “I’m relieved to be divorced earlier than expected.” And of course that was the truth. “I just don’t want Thomas causing any more problems for anyone because of whatever you did to convince him.” No bruises on Thomas’s face recently, so that was a good sign. I didn’t think Enzo would hurt Chiara’s father even if he wanted to, though. “I know he’s not a threat to you because you’re ... you. I don’t know. Thank you, I guess?”

I nervously threaded my fingers together, wondering if I ought to tell him something that’d been on my mind ever since I’d signed the divorce papers. We were already having an uncomfortable conversation, why not make it worse?

“What is it?” he asked, reading my thoughts.

“I’m going to start dating again in the near future,” I shared. “At the very least, I need rebound sex.” Damn my lack of filter. But hell, since I’d dug the hole, why not bury myself? “I’ve only ever been with Thomas, and I—”

“He took your virginity? He was the only one you ...” His fingers dove into his hair as he turned toward the cake.

“It could’ve been you.” And I’d lost count of the number of times I’d wished it had been after that hot kiss in New York. “You had rules, though.”

He whirled around as if I’d insulted him. Pointing toward the floor, his gaze harsh and nearly cutting, he hissed, “If you’d been with me, you’d never have had sex with anyone else after, that I can assure you.”

“You said you’d break my heart,” I reminded him, and he prowled my way in two quick steps and gently snatched my chin.

“Do you really think if we’d slept together, I would’ve been able to walk away from you?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond before sharing, “But I wasn’t lying about being bad for you, and then you would’ve been stuck in hell with me, and I couldn’t do that to you and ...”

Another unfinished thought. More secrets he wouldn’t reveal to me. And I was tired of it.

“Chiara,” I whispered while closing my eyes, and he released me. “She wouldn’t exist, either, and as much as I hate the choices I’ve made, those decisions gave me her.” A tear slipped down my face, and I startled at the feel of the pad of his thumb swiping along my cheek.

“I hate that man.” His rumbly tone softened when he added, “But I love her.”

My chest tightened at how easily he’d admitted his love for my daughter, but I wasn’t ready to look him in the eyes as I worked up the nerve to ask, “And me? Do you think you could ever feel anything for me?”

“What makes you think I didn’t feel something for you while you were married?” he murmured.

I forced open my eyes. “I don’t understand. For the last two years, I didn’t think you even remembered our kiss, let alone felt anything for me.”

“Maria.” He hung his head, robbing me of the view of his gorgeous deep-brown eyes. “You were married, what’d you want me to do? I promised your father I’d protect you, that includes not breaking up your marriage.”

And I was thankful for that. Respected him for it. “And what about now? I’ve been separated since last November, and you haven’t made a single move. Don’t tell me you were trying to give me time to process the divorce. I won’t believe you.”

He looked up and reached for me, brushing the pad of his thumb across the line of my lips, and my tongue peeked out. He went still when our eyes locked. “As much as I want to stand here and tell you I’m not the same man I was from that bar six years ago, I can’t.” He frowned and pulled his thumb away. “Don’t let the chef’s coat fool you. I still carry my past with me every day like a fucking shadow. So no, the same holds true as it did six years ago. I can’t ever have what I want,” he said in a solemn tone.

“But you want me?” My body was as frail as my voice right now, and I hated it.

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and said, “The best I can do is protect you and Chiara the only way I know how.”

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