Serena #3
“I will make sure that doesn’t happen,” Enzo reassured me.
I flipped through the folder that detailed the custody agreement. It was four pages long, detailing every rule and aspect of my life as it pertained to Harper. Each page had one yellow-highlighted section.
Charles had pushed certain clauses that fell entirely on me to fulfill, like putting Harper in golf and tennis. We were to split the costs.
“This clause is crap.” I pointed to the section for Enzo.
“I enrolled her in specific tennis and golf programs, because look,” I pointed to a line, “he went as far as to stipulate where it was acceptable for her to take the classes. She hated them. It was torture for both of us. She wanted to be an ice princess and a soccer star. Charles vetoed it because he sucked at soccer as a kid, according to Minnie.”
“I’m not going to force her to go to things she hates when she’s interested in other things. And the responsibility always fell on me to get her there.” I read the other sections.
The one about meeting our respective partners was highlighted, but a note in the margins made me hopeful.
“He was awful.” I gripped the pages. “He still is, but he showed me exactly who he was during this process.”
“I cared about him.” I swallowed, unable to look up. “I don’t know if I loved him, but marrying him when I found out I was pregnant felt like the right thing to do. And then he disappeared.”
“He missed Harper’s birth because he was at a meeting that went over and didn’t hear his phone ringing.
At least that was his excuse.” I never believed that story.
“I filed the moment I got out of the hospital, after I saw pictures of him on Page Six, partying with Apple. There were some others of him leaving with her and some of those influencer models. Once he was outed, it was like he went harder to be seen and photographed.”
“Charles fought tooth and nail, even though I knew he didn’t want to be in a relationship and had no intentions of being monogamous.” I sighed.
“He was used to being a little prince. Everything was handed to him; no one pushed back and told him what he was doing was wrong,” Enzo said. “Where does Apple come in? They were attached for a long time.”
“I think she was behind the pictures leaking to the media.” I’ve never been able to prove it, nor do I care at this point.
“If you want to put a stop to him yanking your chain in a permanent way, let me know,” Rafael said.
I opened my mouth, then promptly shut it.
“Well, that’s enough terrorizing people for me.” Rafael slapped his leg and stood. “It’s only noon, so who knows? Maybe I’ll find someone else to bother while I twiddle my thumbs and wait for your call. Remember, if he’s dead, he can live in Harper’s memory as less of an ass.”
Rafael strolled out, closing the door behind him.
I got up and went straight into Enzo’s waiting arms. I wrapped my arms around him, finding calm and solace in his embrace.
In my last battle with Charles, I realized how alone I was in the world. I took every punch he threw at me, got in a few of my own, but still, I came home every night to an empty home and no one to lean on when I cried tears of frustration.
Those months put me in survival mode, and I recognize now that I never stopped. Every day felt like I was barely keeping my head above water.
I hugged Enzo tighter, hoping I didn’t screw us up because it felt like I finally had a partner to weather the storms and bask in the rainbows when it was over.
“I’m looking into Apple,” Enzo said as he rested his cheek on the top of my head. “There is something we are missing. She's deep into this mess with him; I just don’t know how far.”
“She’d do just about anything for Charles,” I said, though my voice was muffled since my face was still pressed against his chest. I pulled back an inch to speak and because I needed air.
“They’re similar. They’re together but not, and that’s how they both like it.
I heard Apple was sleeping with a married man a month or so back. ”
“That’s good to know. I’ll investigate that angle.” We stayed in each other’s arms, silent and swaying.
After a while, curiosity got the best of me.
“Were Sly and Antonia a thing in the past?” I asked.
“A thing?” Enzo pulled away and rounded his desk. He opened a drawer, grabbed some papers and his computer, and stuffed them in a briefcase I’d never seen him carry before.
“Sly isn’t known for being,” I paused, trying to find the right words.
“The man will stick his dick into anything. It’s going to get him killed,” Enzo huffed. He came back to me, holding my hand as he pulled me to the door. “He’s a shrewd businessman. But with women? I’m surprised Martina hasn’t killed him yet for his antics.”
I giggled, remembering how Martina groaned that one day she’d be planning Sly’s funeral because he was going to anger the wrong woman.
“Let’s get lunch, amore. Then we can look at the documents some more and send Antonia our notes.” My heart skipped a beat at his use of the term our.
“Okay.”