Page 61 of Fallen Rook
And I hadn’t even had him yet.
“Can we sit down?”
“No. I trust you can stand and talk at the same time,” Enzo deadpanned.
Christ. I’d really fucked it up, if he was this upset. But I’d never shared my personal life with anyone before, and I sure as hell never thought I’d be sharing it with my target.
“I’m not married,” I said evenly. “Iris is not my wife, and Silas is not my son.”
“Then who the fuck are they?”
“It’s complicated.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Get out.”
“Look, I’m not married to her. I never was. We’ve never had sex.”
“Then why did you pause when I asked you if you were?”
“I didn’t pause because I’m married; I paused because I really am emotionally unavailable.” I grabbed the back of my neck, pulling in frustration.
“You and every other man in New York, asshole! You ain’t so special,” Enzo huffed, yanking his phone from his sweatpants pocket and honest-to-God fucking DoorDashing himself dinner while we were talking. The attitude on this man made me want to rip the walls to shreds.
“Put your phone down, Enzo. We’re hashing things out.”
“Nah, you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m done with your half-assed explanations and all this Agatha Christie mystery bullshit. Either you tell me everything or nothing at all. But if you choose the latter, get outta here before I fuck up your face. I’m entitled to. It’s my property.”
I stared at him, a mixture of fury, wonder, and rage swirling inside me.
He was breaking my balls, meeting me toe to toe despite the fact I could destroy his life at the drop of a hat.
Nobody had ever given me shit like this. Least of all Matt. Definitely not Matt.
Matt was…gentle. Agreeable. A peacemaker. We’d rarely argued, and when we did, he would immediately try to placate me, to find a solution to our problem.
My nostrils flared as I watched Enzo ignoring my existence.
“What are you ordering?” I snapped.
“Uh, sushirrito?”
“I’ll have one as well.”
He didn’t say anything, but I saw him adding one more item to the cart before checking out.
I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to leave, and I knew Enzo’s Italian-boy soul would not let him kick me out before I had food in me. He might smack me across the face with the sushirrito first, but he’d let me eat it.
We spent the time waiting glaring at each other silently from across the kitchen island. I knew better than to try to explain myself while he was hangry. Half an hour later, he was wolfing down the sushirrito. Knowing Enzo would settle for nothing less than the entire truth helped, because it meant I couldn’t weed out the uncomfortable parts of my story.
“So tell me about what I saw today,” he said. “Who were those people, and why do you love them so much if they’re not your family?”
“I never said they’re not family to me. I said they weren’t my wife and child,” I clarified, then launched into the explanation. “I knew I was bi ever since I was about seventeen. I had always hooked up with both genders and never thought much of it. Not that my parents were what you’d call supportive, but I didn’t give a shit about what they thought either way.”
Enzo bit into his foiled seaweed, rice, and raw salmon burrito. “Okay.”
“I’d had some relationships, long and short, before I enlisted in the army.”
“You were in the army?” His eyes widened.
