Page 76

I shake my head. "No. You knew it before. That's why you didn't tell me."

He looks at me for a long moment before nodding.

"You're right."

His admission is almost worse than an excuse. There's nothing to argue with, and I'm still furious.

"Do you have any idea how humiliating it was finding out from her?" I ask. "I was sitting on my kitchen floor with her blood on my hands while she told me I was your mistress. I thought I was going to jail, and all I could think about was how stupid I'd been to believe you."

"You weren't stupid, Bridget. I lied to you."

"Yes, you did."

"I knew if I told you I was married, you'd walk away. And I wanted you badly enough that I kept finding reasons to put off the conversation."

I stare at him. "So you decided your feelings were more important than my right to choose."

"Yes."

I wasn't expecting that answer.

He rubs a hand over his face, looking more exhausted than I've ever seen him.

"I kept telling myself I'd explain everything once the divorce was underway. Then we'd have another wonderful evening together, and I wouldn't want to ruin it. Every day I waited made it worse, but I was too selfish to risk losing you."

"You were already losing me. I just didn't know it yet."

He looks down.

For several seconds, neither of us speaks.

"Why me?" I finally ask. "You could have practically any woman you wanted. Why go to all this trouble for a librarian with five cats and a couch that should've been put out of its misery years ago?"

Enzo's expression softens.

"Because I fell for you at a wedding, Bridget."

I look at him, remembering champagne, white roses, and a gorgeous stranger offering me his arm.

"I saw you before Derek got sick," he continues. "You were trying to calm Elise down because she was worried about everything going perfectly. Then Derek started throwing up, and while everyone else was panicking, you were helping him and making jokes to keep your friend from crying."

"Somebody had to save the flowers."

He smiles faintly. "I wanted to know you before I'd even heard your name. And once you started talking, I was done for."

I swallow hard.

"You make me laugh," he says. "You care about people. You like pizza better than expensive dinners, and you talk about your cats as if they're five tiny dictators running a country."

"They are five tiny dictators."

"I know." His smile fades. "You wanted to know about my grandmother and my childhood. You remembered the things I told you. Most people see my name and wonder what I can do for them. You looked at me like I was just a man you wanted to spend time with."

My throat tightens.

"And you had me," I whisper. "That's what makes this so awful. You had me without all the fancy gifts or grand gestures, and you still couldn't tell me the truth."

"I know."