Page 285 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

But not a life with him. His hurt was deep, his inability to trust warranted, and perhaps in his place she would not want to love again either. But what they shared in Italy had felt so much like love. Giving her the gift of travel when she had given up on it as a possibility. His anger at her treatment. The way he had pleasured her, especially that last night under the stars. Control. He had given her control.

But none of it made any difference if he didn’t believe he could love. He would never give that to her. She would never break into his heart.

Charlotte groaned and placed her head on the table in front of her. A headache was forming behind her eyes. Maybe aspirin and sleep would help clear her thoughts. She was about to reach for her bag but froze. The thought of aspirin conjured visions of Enzo handing her an antacid box, back in their hotel. The fact that he had one for her had touched her beyond measure, but that wasn’t what had a hold on her now. It was the fact that she had been so calm with him since they had gone to Ravello, had felt so safe and relaxed, the stress of her father’s constant threat so far from her mind, that she hadn’t needed them at all.

When had anyone’s affection been so healing to her?

‘I don’t have it in me to love again.’

Charlotte curled up on the seat, soft leather hugging her. Lulling her into a state of semisleep where she could escape the swirling thoughts that plagued her.

When the plane touched down, she was no closer to an answer. A car waited for them, and without thinking, she approached the front door but realised the driver had the rear door open for them both.

They were back to reality. Enzo allowed her to enter first, then slipped in after her.

‘We’re going straight to the office. Something has come up. I have to go into a meeting.’

‘Will I be taking the minutes?’

Enzo’s features had settled into the usual professional mask he wore for the world, but now they softened a touch. Charlotte noticed his hand twitch towards her, but he kept it firmly, stubbornly, on his thigh. The driver’s eyes flicked to hers in the rearview mirror. Charlotte didn’t know if she was grateful that Enzo was keeping their relationship private or if she was irritated to be shown affection in secret. Especially when she was meant to come out of hiding, stop living her life in the shadows. But she was still the PA. That’s where she would have to be.

‘No. You have other more urgent matters to address.’

There was notesoro, noCharlottehere. Enzo wanted her to start unravelling her web of lies. She had his protection—she didn’t need to hide. But he was hiding his feelings for her. And even though she understood how having a relationship with the boss could look, she was certain the man who could provide her protection could also deal with that aftermath.

She nodded, saying nothing because there was nothing she could say. A part of her wondered if Enzo wasn’t punishing her a little for the trust she had broken with her charade.

As soon as they arrived at the office, Charlotte—tired from the long trip, heart aching from going from soaring happiness and freedom only a day before to feeling like she was standing on quicksand now—went straight to her desk and fired up her laptop. Enzo didn’t spare her a glance as he walked toward the boardroom.

She opened up a blank document, fingers poised over the keyboard, thinking. Why had she run in the first place? She didn’t want Grant. She was scared of him. She didn’t want to be controlled. She didn’t want to be a pawn. She felt betrayed that she was promised one life and was being forced into another while having to watch her sister get the life, the career she wanted.

But beneath all those valid reasons, Charlotte also wanted to choose her partner and wanted to be chosen back. She wanted to be loved. To feel loved. The closest she’d ever got was in Italy when she had foolishly fallen for Enzo knowing how closed-off he had become, knowing about Gia and Emilio.

She wanted love, and Enzo wouldn’t love her. Every day would be torment. Every day that she gave to him would be another when she might have found someone to love her back.

So Charlotte began typing. Ignoring the sting in her eyes, she didn’t stop until she was satisfied with what she had written down. Hitting Print, she raced to the larger of the printers on that floor to pick up her document before anyone else could see it, and as if the fates were watching her every move, she saw Enzo emerge from his meeting. One look from him had her heart racing. Her stomach coiling. Dampness pooling at the apex of her thighs. She wondered how she could have such a primal response to him when her heart was breaking from knowing he would never be hers.

‘Come with me,’ he said, lacing his fingers with hers and pulling her into his office, giving her flashbacks of a woman in grey admiring the view of Circular Quay. Of placing an espresso cup on the table. Of a man being difficult when he received it. They were like spectres living in the same place but in an alternate dimension.

But she was yanked from the vision when the door closed and Enzo had her pressed up against it, his lips coming to hers in an urgent, fiery kiss. She kissed him back, lips roving over his. His tongue danced with hers, unleashing sparks everywhere in her body. She wanted this. Wanted to drown in him. Wanted him to crave her in the very same way, as if he needed no nourishment in the world other than her touch. She wanted him to love her. And as much as this kiss made her feel and made her forget, it didn’t make her forget that.

So she placed her hands on his chest and, as much as it hurt to do so, pushed him away.

‘Enzo, we can’t do this.’

She watched the lust clear from his green eyes as he took in the look on her face. She wasn’t sure what he was seeing there because she could don no masks. There was no strength in her for that. Nor did she want to, because she wanted him to know that even now she would be honest with him.

‘Tell me what you are thinking.’ It was an order.

Charlotte handed him her letter and moved away, creating some space between their bodies. She watched him read it, wondering exactly what he was thinking. When he looked at her, she saw confusion on his face.

‘You’re resigning.’

‘I’m leaving, Enzo.’ The words she had hoped for so long that she wouldn’t have to say. Hope was a dangerous thing. She had stayed at De Luca and Co. hoping she could make her mark through Enzo. She loved working here, but now, in the end, she couldn’t say that it had been the people she loved or the work particularly, it had been getting to work with Enzo. He had been such a big part of her life even when they hadn’t been involved. Ideas and decisions she had made only came to life through him. She didn’t agonise over anyone else calling her Celeste; it had only bothered her on Enzo’s lips. But she couldn’t stay and hurt. Somewhere else, alone, she would give herself the possibility of forgetting him. Dulling the effect he had on her with time.

‘Why?’ He took a step towards her, and she took one back. Just like she had in the hotel in Milan when he had learned the truth and she had wanted to run. ‘Does this have something to do with your father?’

‘No.’ She shook her head, swallowing to dislodge the lump in her throat. ‘I’ve just had time to think. To realise that we can’t be together.’ She threw her hands up in the air and walked away from him, looking out at all of Sydney. Silently saying goodbye to a city she had only really got to know from afar. Where would she go from here? How much would it hurt to walk away? Right now, she was sure peeling the flesh from her bones would be less painful.