I blink back tears, refusing to let him see how much he's shattered me. “You should have done us both a favor and never given in."
He scrubs a hand over his face. “Don't you think I know that?" he asks in a low, ugly snarl. “Don't you think I fought my feelings every single goddamn day? Every f*****g moment was a battle. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. You have to believe that."
Unable to listen anymore, I stand. “I don't know what to believe. I need to get to work."
“I expected you to call Enzo last night." He tilts his head. “Why didn't you?"
I look away.
That's an excellent question. One I've asked myself a million times already. I should have called my father right after getting in the cab.
Papa would have snapped up Roman by now.
Which is precisely
