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I turn away because I can't stand seeing the pain in his eyes when I'm already drowning in my own.

He hesitates before collecting the roses and walking toward the entrance. I watch him leave the library carrying flowers for another woman.

His wife.

And just like that, my fairy tale dies all over again.

The following week is a special kind of hell.

Monday morning, flowers arrive at the library. Denise finds me standing over the arrangement with a trash can.

"Bridget, those are beautiful roses."

"So was the snake in the Garden of Eden. Look how that worked out."

She wisely steps aside while I throw them away.

Tuesday brings a diamond bracelet that probably costs more than everything I own. I send it back without trying it on. Wednesday, a box of signed first editions arrives, including several novels I've loved since college. Those are harder to return, especially after I find Enzo's handwritten note tucked between the books.

I know I hurt you. I would give anything to undo it. Please let me explain everything. Enzo.

I sit on my couch holding the note until Darcy climbs into my lap. Then I put everything back in the box and arrange to have it returned.

The worst delivery arrives Thursday.

An enormous cat tree.

Not just any cat tree. This monstrosity has multiple platforms, enclosed beds, scratching posts, and what appears to be a miniature suspension bridge. It would take up half my living room, which I'm fairly certain is exactly what Enzo intended.

"Lady, where do you want this?" the deliveryman asks.

"Back wherever it came from."

He looks at the enormous box. "You sure?"

"Positive."

Unfortunately, Murder Mittens spots it through the open door and immediately attempts to escape into the hallway. I scoop him up before he reaches the elevator, holding him against my chest while the deliveryman wheels the monstrosity away.

"Don't look at me like that," I tell the cat. "We're not accepting bribes from married men."

Murder Mittens bites my wrist.

Traitor.

By Friday, I've stopped checking my phone every five minutes, although that doesn't mean I've stopped wanting to. That's the humiliating part. I miss Enzo. God help me, I miss him so much it physically hurts. I miss his voice before bed, his ridiculous text messages, and the way he'd call me tesoro whenever he wanted to make me smile.

I miss having somebody who actually seemed interested in my day. And I hate him for making me believe it could last.

Elise shows up Friday evening carrying wine, ice cream, and enough takeout to feed a small family. She pulls me into a hug before I can even close the door.

"Nico and I talked," she says when we're settled on the couch. "He knew Enzo and Valentina had been separated for years, but he assumed Enzo had told you they were still legally married. He had no idea you didn't know."

"Well, that makes two of us."

Elise sighs. "Nico feels terrible. So do I."

"Neither of you lied to me." I take a swallow of wine. "I should've asked more questions."