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When he pulls back, the lopsided grin on his face causes my heart to stutter. His genuine smiles are so rare it makes me wantto bottle each one up and keep them forever. I want every day to be like this for the rest of our lives.
The thought of the rest of our lives is sobering. We need to have an important conversation.
Enzo falls back onto the bed and I lay my head on his chest.
“So I was thinking,” I start, “we’re meant to get married before the end of the year, right?”
Enzo makes a sound of agreement.
“Well, the first step to achieving that is choosing a date. We don’t have a lot of time anymore.”
“What day do you want us to get married,principessa?”
I look up at him. “You want me to choose?”
He nods. “I don’t care what day it happens. All that matters is making you my wife.”
My chest grows warm and a feeling of excitement overcomes me. I sit up to look at him.
“Well, I was thinking a Christmas wedding,” I announce. “Christmas has always been special to me. It’s pretty cheesy, but I used to fantasize about getting married on Christmas Day. There would be snow and bright lights everywhere. It would be amazing.”
It isn’t until I’m done talking that I realize how still he is.
“Enzo?” I ask, confused.
A muscle ticks in his jaw and his expression shutters. In a flash, the warm, easy look he has been giving me all day vanishes. In its place is a coldness I thought I would never have to see again.
“No.”
Just one word. I don’t even know what he’s saying no to yet, but I feel my heart crack.
“No what?” I ask as he climbs off the bed and runs a hand through his hair in agitation.
“No, we’re not getting married on Christmas. Pick another date, Rosa,” he tells me.
It’s more like a command, his tone leaving no room for argument. Something chilly slides down my spine.
“You just said you didn’t care what day it is.”
“We can get married any other day but that one,principessa.”
My jaw tightens and I feel myself start to grow angry. “Why not?”
When he doesn’t reply, my emotions flare.
“I don’t want to fight about this, Rosa.”
“Well, too bad,” I say, getting to my feet as well. I pull on one of his shirts that was discarded on the floor and stare him down. “You don’t get to say things and just expect me to obey without a second thought. I’m not a robot and I can’t read your fucking mind! Tell me why, Enzo. Now.”
He opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates. His lips clamp shut and he looks away. I let out a scoff.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter.
I’m about to yell at him, maybe call him an asshole, when there’s a knock at the door. His eyes meet mine briefly before he moves towards it. I sit on the bed, my chest still tight. I can only see Jason’s blonde hair as Enzo stands in the doorway.
“What?” Enzo questions, a bite to his tone.
“We’ve got a problem. A really big one. The Mincettis. They killed some of our men, burned down one of our warehouses in Russia. Things are pretty tense over there.”
