Chapter Forty-Six Lorenzo
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Lorenzo
I deserve to suffer for the choices I’ve made, so I stand and watch over Lily as she breaks down in the middle of the empty school parking lot, fighting an intense urge to yank open her door, pull her into my arms, and promise her that I’ll figure everything out.
I want to tell her that I love her and that I never want her to go another minute without knowing it. That I’m sorry, not only for hurting her but for letting her down in so many ways.
For making her cry.
For pushing her away multiple times when I could’ve been enjoying her company instead.
For not being strong enough to overcome my trauma, and for being too weak to share the burden with her.
I’ve never felt agony quite like this before, but I don’t dare take my eyes off Lily. Don’t so much as drop my gaze once, not even when my own eyes get misty when she curls over her steering wheel and sobs.
I want to rip out my heart straight from my chest and offer it to her as payment for ruining us. For destroying the temporary happiness we shared and whatever hope Lily had of us making it out of this arrangement together.
You can still win the election . It’s as if Lily is the one who spoke the words, not me.
She has always been the hopeful one. The wishful dreamer. The one who has brought out the best in me, and the one who’s seen me at my very worst.
I failed her in more ways than the debate. I took her love for granted, and now I’ll suffer through the consequences of my actions.
For the next two months, I’ll accept whatever punishment she deems fit, all while fighting to save her business and the election.
I can’t give her everything she wants, but that won’t prevent me from giving her my all until the very end.
I follow Lily to her house. With her tracking bracelet stuffed inside my pocket, I can’t resist the compulsion to make sure she makes it home safely.
I’m not slick about my intention either, so I anticipate her glaring in my direction when I park by the curb. What I don’t expect is her stomping over to my car and pointing at the window until I roll it down.
“Quit following me around.”
“I would if I could.” Exhaustion bleeds into my voice.
Her eyes narrow. “What game are you playing?”
“I wasn’t aware I was playing one.”
She growls with frustration. “Go home.”
“I will once you get inside.” I lean back in the driver’s seat.
“You don’t get to do this.”
“Do what?” I bite down on my tongue.
“Act like you care.”
“Good thing I’m not acting, then, am I?”
“How can I tell? Our entire relationship has been a lie.”
I breathe, hoping to expel some of my frustration through my mouth and failing after one attempt.
I’m too annoyed by her accusation to try again, so I pull out the bracelet from my pocket to show her who the real liar is here, and spoiler, it’s not me .
Lily backs away. “I told you I don’t want it.”
I ignore her and open the app on my phone.
Her brows rise, right before they scrunch with confusion. “Is that…”
“A top-of-the-line model.”
She covers her mouth with her palm.
“Tell me something, amore mio . Am I acting now?”
She shakes her head, anguish etched into the fine lines by her eyes and mouth. “Why are you showing me this?”
“Because let this be the last time you accuse me of lying.” I hold the bracelet out for her to grab. “Now, do you want me to follow you around everywhere, or will you be a good fiancée and wear my gift?”
She stares at the bracelet like it might transform into a venomous snake.
“You need professional help, Lorenzo.” She stares at me, her eyes a window to her crushed soul.
The only person I hate more than Trevor Ludlow right now is myself, because I’m the one who is making her miserable.
As much as I hate it, I won’t make her a promise I can’t keep either, so I’m put in an impossible situation.
“I’m only doing this because I don’t want to see you more than I have to.” Her fingers tremble as she reaches for the bracelet. She tries to put it on herself, but I intervene, allowing myself to seek comfort in her touch.
I pretend to struggle with the clasp to give myself more time. “Okay.”
“You’re a real asshole for tracking me without my consent, by the way.”
“I’ll never apologize for prioritizing your safety.”
Her hands clench into fists by her side. “And who’s going to keep me safe from you ?”
Pain laces through me, starting in the back of my throat before weaving its way through my chest.
I never wanted to hurt her, yet that’s all I manage to do.
With deft fingers, I secure the clasp and pull my hand back. “I’ll see you on Saturday at the assisted-living facility.”
“So that’s it? Back to business?” Her body tensing, visibly bracing herself for my reply.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Fuck you, Lorenzo.” Her voice cracks, and my own heartbeat seems to slow as I replay the sentence in my head.
Lily has never spoken to me that way, and while deserved, it still hurts .
“Get some rest.” For her benefit, I keep my voice cold and detached.
With another curse, she spins around and heads into her house while I watch from my spot on the curb.
Once the light in her bedroom turns on, I drive away, knowing that come tomorrow, everything between us will have changed.
I get home and am immediately assaulted with memories of Lily. Her basket of socks. The photo of us from the cooking class. The wilting bouquet that I’m supposed to replace tomorrow.
Everywhere I turn, I’m reminded of the woman who has infiltrated my life, turning it from shades of morally gray to a spectrum of colors that match her wardrobe.
I escape the entryway and head to the living room. Daisy gives up on sniffing my leg and disappears down the hall before returning with a pair of socks in her mouth.
“For fuck’s sake.” I wipe my face.
She drops the socks in front of me and whines.
“Your mom’s not coming home.”
She lies flat on her stomach and lets out another high-pitched noise.
“What?”
She nudges the socks with her nose, and I toss them onto the coffee table.
Since I can’t stand looking at Daisy without thinking about Lily, I head to the liquor cabinet for a bottle of scotch. I slam one of the doors and accidentally scare her, so she takes off running.
I don’t drink to get drunk ever. Doing so would take away my control, and I prefer to keep a tight grip on my reality. But tonight I make an exception.
I need to.
Because if I’m not thinking about Lily, then I’m ruminating over the debate and how I had to pretend I didn’t want to kill Trevor Ludlow with my bare hands.
Outside of large town events like the Strawberry Festival, I’ve been able to avoid Trevor. He hangs around a very elite group of people, and since he hardly volunteers around town, we rarely cross paths.
But now that we have, I have a taste for a different kind of revenge. One that my uncle stole from me by not pursuing manslaughter charges before Michigan’s ten-year statute of limitations.
I take a swig straight from the scotch bottle, the burn in my throat temporarily distracting me from the one in my chest. When that pain fades, I take another sip, and another, before the bottle starts to finally feel lighter.
Only that temporary relief is wiped away when Daisy returns with a new pair of socks, as if the first set wasn’t torturous enough.
“Go to bed.” I point at her dog bed in the corner.
She whimpers, but I keep my finger directed at her bed while taking another swig from the bottle. Reluctantly, Daisy heads to her spot with Lily’s socks still in her mouth.
I turn away because the knot in my stomach becomes unbearably tight.
Fuck my uncle for allowing Trevor to get away with murder, and fuck the mayor for protecting his son. And fuck me, because now that I know what it feels like to love someone, can I blame the mayor for wanting to save his son?
The sympathetic thought sends me into a devastating spiral, and I end up taking a few more swigs of my drink.
I would do anything for Lily.
Anything but give her the one thing she desires.
I stumble over to the couch. My coordination is shoddy, so I trip on a stupid accent rug but still somehow manage to land on the cushions without cracking my head open on the coffee table.
I stare up at the ceiling and sigh. The sound is too loud, and the house is eerily quiet.
Better get used to the silence.
Before Lily changed my mind, I enjoyed the solitude. I craved coming home to an empty house, but now I can’t think of anything more depressing.
Well, turns out there is one more thing, and it’s being left on read after drunk texting my fake fiancée.