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“I don’t care about any of that,” I say earnestly, angry again. “Your billion-dollar date in Switzerland, you can keep it. No view in the world, no royal treatment, as awesome as it is, can compete with time with you.”
How does he not get that?
“So what are you saying?”
WhatamI saying, exactly? OK, time to bring it down a bit.
“We can’t see each other for the next few weeks, which sucks. But what about after that? Are there any concessions you can make at all, any way you can maybe be a bit more like Hayden, who seems to balance work and family successfully? Anything at all you can change to make this feasible?”
I wait for him to consider it. Come up with a plan to meet me halfway. Enzo’s broad shoulders rise and lower as he watches me. Thinking.
And then . . .
“No.”
Is he freaking serious?
“No?”
He seems to have made some sort of decision and digs in.
“No, Chari. I’ve been through this with my family. Not now when we’re expanding. Hayden’s family lives in New York, so that makes a big difference. I can’t come running to Bridgewater at ten o’clock at night after things wrap up for the day.”
“Come running? I’m not asking you to come running. Just to think of something, anything, to make this work better than it has this past month?”
Like sayingI love you, or promising we’ll make a plan together.
Like saying,Maybe I can try to avoid working Saturday nights so we can be together at least one night a week.
Like saying,I can deal with you distracting me if it means you’re here, with me, even if I’m working and you’re lying near me, reading a book. But at least we’ll be together.
There are so many things he can say right now, and I hold my breath, waiting for any of them to come out of his mouth.
“I’m sorry, Chari. I really am.”
So his answer is still no. There’s nothing he can do to meet me halfway. He won’t even try.
“This isn’t just a business to me. It’s . . .”
I wait, but he doesn’t finish. Because Enzo doesn’t know what it is, exactly. He just knows that nothing is more important to him at the moment than turning Angel from a gazillion-dollar global enterprise into an even bigger gazillion-dollar global enterprise.
And if I’m not high on his priority list, then Enzo just isn’t the guy for me.
“Then . . .” A lump in my throat prevents me from saying it, so I shake my head a little until the words come out. “I don’t think there’s a ton more for us to say.”
Contradict me. Please, Enzo, contradict me.
“No, I guess there’s not.”
We stare at each other for another few seconds, and then I gather up whatever modicum of self-respect I have left and hover my finger over the end button.
“Bye, Enzo.”
He blinks, and maybe he regrets how this went down? It’s hard to tell.
“Bye, tiger.”
The endearment doesn’t make it any easier to click the button and hang up.
