I waited three days.
Not like I was counting or anything. I wasn’t. Absolutely not.
It was just noticeable, that’s all. He’d said he wanted to drop something off for me and then vanished. At first, I convinced myself it was for the best. Less stress. Less chaos. Less Enzo.
But by the third day, I found myself checking my phone like I was expecting a delivery and that annoyed me more than anything. So, to save myself from overthinking, which I definitely wasn’t doing, I just called.
And the moment he picked up, I regretted it.
“Hey,” I said, trying too hard to sound casual. Like calling Enzo was something I did every other Tuesday.
His voice came through low and rough. Not his usual calm and steady tone.
“Hey.”
I frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m not feeling good”
“Yeah,right
