When we got back to the apartment, I still could not get over how massive it was.
It was stunning, and expensive, obviously. Every surface shined, marble countertops, hardwood floors, exquisite furniture, but it felt empty.
Not physically, there was plenty of furniture. Art on the walls. A kitchen that belonged in a design magazine, but it felt like a showroom. Like no one actually existed here.
"Enzo," I breathed, walking toward the windows. "This is insane."
He came up behind me, close enough that I could feel his warmth. "Do you like it?."
"It's beautiful."
"It's lonely." His voice was quiet. "I thought having a place like this would make me feel successful. Like I'd finally made it. But every night I came home to this view, this space, and all I could think was that it meant not
