Her Last Name, His Claim

The cafe was too quiet for the way my heart was beating. Or maybe it was my heart beating too fast. I couldn't tell.

All I knew was that I could hear it, loud and clear, over the soft jazz playing in the background.

I sat by the window, holding a cup of tea that had gone cold, pretending to be calm. Five years was supposed to be enough time to bury the past.

It wasn't.

He chose this place. Of course he did...Perfect decor, soft jazz, impeccable service and a view of the city he practically owned now.

The perfect stage for Enzo Wayne.

When he finally walked in, half the women in the room turned to look at him. He didn't have to speak, his presence alone commanded attention. Five years hadn't aged him. Same broad shoulders, same dark hair, same intense eyes that made you feel like he could see into your soul.

"You look beautiful, Elena."

How is it that my name in his mouth still did strange things to me.

"You got my lawyer's letters," I said, going straight to business. "But just in case you didn't, I brought the papers." I lifted them slightly. "I need your signature."

He didn't even sit. "I got them".

"And?"

He finally sat across from me, leaning back, unbothered, acting like he had all the time in the world. Maybe he did. Billionaires can buy time.

"This isn't a joke, Enzo" I said. "It's been five years."

"And yet here you are," he murmured. "Still my wife."

"Not for long."

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his voice dropping low.

"You want a divorce? Fine. After you give me what's mine."

"What's yours?" I repeated, stunned.

"Closure," he said first. "After five years of silence. My wife vanished. You owe me an ending that means something."

" And a child," he added quietly. "My heir."

I froze. "Are you insane?" I yelled before remembering where we were. A few people looked our way.

"Sometimes, especially when it has to do with you. But I'm also really patient," he said.

He smiled. "I waited five years. You left before our story was finished. I'm just asking for the ending I deserve."

"You deserve a court date," I snapped, standing. "And a therapist, because clearly, you need help."

He smiled again, clearly trying to get on my nerves. "I'm not fighting you, Elena. I don't understand why you're so agitated."

"You can't be serious," I said, " I'm marrying someone else."

"Go ahead and marry him if you want, sweetheart," he shrugged, casual as always. "But remember, it's a crime to marry when you're already married to someone else. I'll just sue both of you to death."

For a moment, I felt like I was choking. I forgot how to breathe.

"Don't you think it's easier on everyone if you just call off the engagement?" he said softly. "Stop stringing the poor guy along. You belong with me. And that ring..."

He glanced at my hand, smirking.

"The guy can't even take care of you. Look at that awful ring. I gave you a better one when I was dirt poor."

"Shut up about my ring. I love it."

My voice came out sharper than intended. My hands were shaking, but I wouldn't let him see it. He's arrogant enough as it is.

"Enzo smiled, clearly amused by my outburst. "Notice how you missed the chance to say you love him."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'm honest," he replied, leaning forward. "You used to love that about me."

"I used to love a lot of things about you," I said quietly. "Doesn't mean I still do."

"I've always been able to tell when you're lying, Elena. Your eyes tell a different story even though you're trying to make me believe you hate me."

I couldn't sit here with him any longer without causing him bodily harm, so I pushed the papers toward him. "Just sign the damn papers, Enzo."

He smirked.Then picked them up slowly and tore them one by one, his eyes locked on mine.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Enzo? Now listen..."

"No," he cut in. "You listen."

He leaned in close, his breath brushing my cheek. "We'll do this my way."

He paused, then said, "if you need me to sign it that badly, then you're going to play by my rules. Do as I say, and I just might sign it. I'm going to enjoy this."

This man really does bring out the ghetto in me.

I grabbed the coffee, and for a wild second considered throwing it in his stupid, smug face. But I stopped myself.

He wasn't worth me loosing my cool, even though I knew how good it would feel.

Instead, I stood, slightly shaking, furious. "You're pathetic," I said quietly. "And I pity you."

I walked out before he could reply, my heels clicking against the tile.

The soft jazz drifted behind me, the world around me moving on. A waiter passed me by. Everything perfectly normal.

Except me.

Except my world, currently being turned upside down by Enzo.

In that moment, I wasn't sure who to direct my anger at, Enzo, for holding me hostage in the past when I'm trying so hard to break free, or myself, for still caring at all.

The morning light streamed through the windows of Maplewood Town Library, warm and golden.

Rows of shelves arranged neatly, the faint smell of books, old and new and clean polish hanging in the air,

It was quiet, peaceful, the kind of peace I built my life around. My perfect, happy place.

I adjusted a stack of children's books on the table for the weekend's reading event, humming along to the soft music in my headset. For a while, it almost felt like yesterday and the past week didn't happen.

"Excuse me," a voice said behind me.

I turned to see Maya from the front desk, pointing toward the hallway. "Someone's here asking for you."

I frowned. "Who?"

Before she could answer, I saw him..tall, confident, and so out of place among the rows of bookshelves.

Just my rotten luck.

The devil found his way into my sanctuary.

"You're stalking me now?" I asked, crossing my arms.

Enzo's lips twitched. "You always did look good surrounded by books."

"Don't start." I turned back to the table to pick up the next stack of books going on the shelf. "If you're here to finish tearing things up, the trash can's over there.

He chuckled softly. "You look beautiful and that top is doing such wonderful things to your...

I cut him off. "Shut up. Sign the papers, Enzo. Then leave."

He didn't reply immediately. Instead, his tone softened, unexpected. "You really got your dream job, huh? I remember how you used to talk my ears off about those novels you're always reading. About wanting to work in a library, helping kids fall in love with books."

That stopped me for a moment. I hated that he remembered. That tiny flicker of tenderness hurt more than the fight yesterday.

"Don't," I said quietly. "Don't pretend you care."

"I'm not pretending," he said. "I came to apologize. For yesterday."

"You came all the way for that? You could've texted."

"I don't live far." His eyes held mine. "I bought a house nearby."

I looked up sharply. "You're moving back here?"

"Already did." he said.

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed on the desk. Nathan's name lit up the screen.

"Hey babe," I answered, forcing my voice to sound steady. "Yeah, I'm at work. That would be nice. Mm hmm. I love you too."

When I hung up, Enzo's expression had changed. The softness was gone, replaced by that cold, unreadable mask I knew too well.

Without another word, he turned and walked out.

For a moment, I stood there, phone still in my hand, wondering what just happened.

Then I took a deep breath, straightened the books again and whispered to no one in particular,

"He's not going to win this time. I don't care how he feels."