Chapter 8 Scooped Out My Backbone
Scooped Out My Backbone
Izzy
I feel so fucking weak.
Like someone has scooped out my backbone and replaced it with something soft and useless, leaving me unable to stand on my own.
I let Enzo tuck me into his bed; it doesn’t take long before sleep claims me.
By the time I wake, it’s morning again and I’m alone.
My stomach groans loudly, reminding me that I’ve just spent two weeks not eating and I need to start filling up again.
Dragging myself down the hall I’m greeted by the sight of Enzo, still dressed casually in sweatpants and t-shirt, as he prepares breakfast.
I don’t announce my presence as I wrap my arms around myself to watch him. He’s so focused, pouring batter into a waffle machine, that he doesn’t notice I’m there until I eventually clear my throat, stepping further into the kitchen.
He smiles at me and my stomach swoops. I hate that, even after all these years, I still react to him like this. Butterflies alighting in my belly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, embarrassment creeping in as I recall my breakdown yesterday.
Enzo stops what he’s doing to pull me into his embrace, stroking my hair absentmindedly as he speaks. “Don’t apologize for things you can’t control, Cuore mio.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say.
Enzo goes back to cooking, then slides a plate of waffles into the center of the counter. He cuts a piece off, drizzles on chocolate sauce, then holds it out to me. I reach out my hand to take the fork from him, but he snatches it back with a playful grin.
Rolling my eyes, I lean forward, wrapping my lips from the fork to let him feed me. He used to do the same thing when we were kids.
The way his eyes blaze as he looks at me lights a fire under my skin.
His phone ringing cuts through the moment. He mutters unhappily under his breath before snapping, “What?”
Tension radiates from him as he listens to whoever's on the other side.
“Can’t you handle it?” he snaps.
Enzo growls at the answer before he ends the call with, “Fine. I’ll be there.”
His expression morphs as soon as he looks down at me, eyes softening, his face no longer a storm cloud.
“I have to go out this evening,” he tells me, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“Where?” I ask, more out of curiosity than anything else.
“My club. It’s re-opening tonight; I have to be there.”
My stomach tightens at the thought of him leaving me here alone, but I also know I’m not ready to face the outside world. I need to lay low, come up with a plan to deal with Lucas.
“Okay,” I whisper, hating the vulnerability in the tremor to my voice.
Enzo hears it, of course. “I will stay here if you need me. Tell me not to go and I won’t.” He’s deadly serious, I can hear it in his tone.
“No. No,” I say, forcing a confident smile. “I’ll be fine.”
He searches my face for a while before nodding.
After food, Enzo herds me back to his room as though me being on my feet too long might cause me some traumatic experience. I indulge him, but only if he’ll stay with me, which is how we end up spending the rest of the day in his bed watching re-runs of The Office on his iPad.
He only leaves me once—to fetch us some soup for lunch.
After the light has long since faded outside Enzo rolls off the bed, stretching out his muscles.
“I’m going to shower and get ready,” he tells me on his way out of the door. He pauses at the threshold. “Will you be okay in here alone for a little while?”
“I’m okay, I’m sorry I’m a mess.” I stare down at the dark bedsheets.
Enzo’s footsteps grow closer, and he forces my head up to look at him. “You’re not a mess. You are so fucking strong.” He leans in to place a kiss on my forehead. “You amaze me.”
My cheeks heat and I dip my head once again. He lets me.
Enzo leaves to shower while I snoop through his room.
It’s very minimalist in terms of furniture, just the bed, side tables, a dresser and a walk-in closet.
But it’s not boring. He’s got little pops of color in art-work, and cozy blankets that tell me this is a home not just a place for him to sleep.
After exploring his bedroom, I search the rest of the apartment. My mind has been so out of it since I woke up, I haven’t truly taken any of it in before. The kitchen is gorgeous, deep blue cabinets and black countertops. State of the art appliances.
The color scheme isn’t that dissimilar to Lucas’s penthouse, and yet… this feels lived in. It’s not just some sterile box designed to showcase wealth.
My stomach rumbles, so I check the fridge. There’s not much, but he has eggs and cheese.
Perhaps I should feel more awkward using someone else's food… but this is Enzo.
I get to work—cracking eggs into a bowl, grating cheese, heating a pan.
By the time I’m ready to get started, I hear Enzo moving around. His footsteps grow closer, and when he comes into view, I lose all ability to think.
Gone is the disheveled Enzo that I woke up to. No, this is the Enzo I know from his reputation.
Dressed in an all-black suit; his beard is trimmed neatly, his hair coiffed to perfection. The suit clings to his frame, highlighting the muscles below.
Heat pools in my belly, and my mouth becomes dry.
As soon as I realize what’s happening, I panic.
I can’t be feeling like this.
Forcing myself to turn away before I have a breakdown, I focus on pouring the eggs into the pan. Without looking up I ask, “Want some?”
“Sure.”
I sneak a side glance at him to find him staring at me with something akin to affection in his eyes. I remind myself that he’s just looking at me like you would a friend. He doesn’t see me as more than that, and even if he did, I’m too broken for anything else.
If only I could get my stupid heart that’s been in love with him since I was eleven to get on board with my head that knows nothing will ever happen, that would be great.
We eat in silence.
Then it’s time for Enzo to leave.
He kisses my temple, his lips lingering a second longer than necessary before he pulls back, smiling sadly at me.
“If you need anything, give me a call.” He shoves a phone into my grasp.
It’s password protected, and I look at him expectantly. He just raises a playful eyebrow.
A smile tugs at my lips as I type in 051091. My birthday.
Wrong password.
I look up at him momentarily, brow furrowed. Then I realize.
I switch the order. 100591.
It unlocks.
Damn American dates system. Despite our school being an international one, following the US curriculum, that was one thing I never understood. But of course, Enzo would have adapted after living here for so long.
Shaking my head at him, I wrap my arms around his waist and murmur a ‘thank you’ into his chest before pushing him into the elevator.
“Make yourself at home, Iz. Nothing is off-limits to you.”
I nod gratefully as the doors shut.
Then I’m alone.
I spend the first few hours taking Enzo words to heart. He says that nothing is off-limits, so I riffle through his things. I’m not exactly looking for anything, I just feel like snooping.
Enzo may well have been my best friend growing up, and he’s taken me in now without question, but at the end of the day, I don’t really know him anymore. He’s not the same person as he was when he left me at fourteen.
Unfortunately, I find nothing of interest—just a lot of hidden guns. One of the doors is locked, which I can only assume is his office. I could pick the lock, but I’m not that nosey.
After giving up my search I cover myself in a blanket on the sofa, download my kindle app, and settle in for a night of reading.