“Gone? As in, he left already?”
“An hour ago, yes.”
“Fucker.” I exhale, then realize she hasn’t hung up yet. “I’m so sorry—”
She starts laughing. “He’s in a snit, give him time. He’ll be back you can make him pay then.”
Blushing, I mumble a thank-you and hang up. God, how embarrassing. It’s even more embarrassing Enzo had his assistant call me. Anger overtakes my guilt, and I pull out my cell phone.
Don’t you dare have your assistant or anyone else do your dirty work again. This fight is between me and you. Keep everyone else out of it. Next time grow a pair of balls and text me or call me yourself. I’m going home if you’re going to run away.
Even as I’m looking at what I wrote, I want to call it back. I don’t want to go back to my two flat, but damn it, if he’s out of town then I don’t want to be in the condo without him. His response comes fast.
Don’t even think about it. You leave the condo I’ll spank your ass until you can’t sit down for weeks, and you won’t like it.
Fucker.
Already on my way to pack my stuff. Enjoy England.
As soon as I hit send, I block his number in anger. How is he so damn good at making me hate him? Without any other appointments, I say fuck it and go to the condo to pack. I’m not going to threaten him and not follow through. I fucked up, I get it, but this is bullshit.
I’m in the walk-in closet throwing my clothes into my suitcase when I hear the front door slam with enough force it feels like the whole place shakes. I freeze; no way. The thought is barely complete before I hear him roar my name from the hallway. Without thinking I tear off my blouse and shove down my skirt. He fills the open doorway of the walk-in closet, breathing fire and holy fuck he’s stunning in his rage. One day, he’s not going to kick over bees in my tummy; one day he’s not going to make me wet at the sight of him; when that day comes, I’ll still have a shit ton of memories from when he did, and that’s almost the same thing.
His eyes flick to the open suitcase then down my body, covered only in the black silk bra with sheer cups worn this morning to entice him. The panties are laughable, they don’t protect me or hide how wet I am.
“You aren’t going anywhere.” He growls from low in his chest.
“I think that depends. Are you going to England, or are you staying here with me in Chicago and sleeping in our bed?”
The lines in his forehead deepen. “It’s business.”
“No, it’s not. This is us. And if it really is business, I need to know if I’m going to come before business.”
He sighs. He looks tired; did he get any sleep last night? “Chloe, there are going to be times—”
It hurts, it shouldn’t, a part of me knew it was coming, but damn it hurts so bad. “Fuck you, leave. Just go.” Shame fills me as I yank a shirt out of my open suitcase.
“Chloe.” A hand goes around my wrist. Anger gives me the strength to pull hard then push him away.
“I mean it. Don’t touch me. Go, go make more money, I get the message loud and clear.” I want to scream I’m leaving his ass, he can take his prenup and the stupid house and building and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine but I don’t dare, the words won’t come because as much as I’m hurting, I know walking away will hurt worse. “I won’t leave, but I can’t look at you right now. Please leave.”
Then he does what I never expected: he just walks away. Long after the front door has closed behind him, I slide down the island and cry until there are no tears left.
***
Chloe
Enzo is gone for four days. He leaves Birmingham, England for Madrid the second day, then is stopping back in Birmingham on his way back. His texts inform me, that’s all they do. There’s nothing beyond the information he needs to relay. He’ll be back Friday morning in time for Dante to use the jet to go to New York, he’ll be gone Friday and Saturday. Dante has asked if we would stay in the condo until he gets back so Bethany isn’t alone. My response is one word of “fine;” one big, empty space over another doesn’t matter to me anymore.
“Tell me I’m doing the right thing. Tell me I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life and this all won’t end in a complete clusterfuck.” I plead with Bethany as she knits happily away in front of the television. Tomorrow Enzo comes home. I don’t know what to do, as if I was going to do anything other than take him any way I could get him.
Setting the knitting down, Bethany studies me. “You need a hug? You’re all weepy. You weren’t like that the last time you asked me to tell you all of that.”
I’m so pathetic. I nod as I hug her. “He left, Bethany, he walked away. We’re having an important argument on what is going to matter in our marriage, and he chooses money.”
Bethany sighs as she rubs my back. “Honey, I don’t think he meant it though. The thing with these Sabatinis is if they don’t have the whole heart/love thing down, they get skittish and run like a horse when someone left the barn door open. He got off the plane for you; Phil said they were ready to taxi when Enzo told him to turn around. That’s not a money-is-more-important kind of moment.”
“It felt like it. He wasn’t willing to talk to me. I mean, god, I’ve twisted it around in my head and I can’t figure out how to make it right, but he’s not even going to try?”