Chapter 7 of Her Last Name, His Claim

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." I replied instantly. Because seriously? Enzo Wayne,sick? No. Please.

"I'm serious."

I scoffed. "In all the years I've known you, you've never been sick."

"Just because you've never seen me sick doesn't mean I don't get sick. I'm not Superman."

I muttered, "Yeah, you're definitely not Superman."

He went quiet. Long enough that I thought he'd hung up.

"You're actually serious?" I asked finally.

"Yeah."

"Are you at the hospital?"

"No."

"Oh." I paused. "Well, if you're at home, I'm sure you're being taken care of. You have your... people around."

"I don't have anybody," he said. "It's just me. I'm at home."

"Where?" I asked, before I could stop myself.

"My house here in Maplewood."

I frowned. "You're still in town?"

"I thought you'd gone back to New York," I continued. "You disappeared and you didn't drop anything off like you said you would."

"I've been sick for a few days."

I was silent again. Then quietly, "Where's your house again?"

"The new estate."

My jaw dropped. "The new estate? You mean Double E Estate?"

"Yes," he said. "I own the estate."

I had to sit down. "Wait. What?"

"My house is on Wayne street. The only one on that street."

I blinked at the ceiling. "Wait...they've been building that estate since last year... does that mean you've been planning to move back since last year?"

"Yeah. Among other things. But you wouldn't give me a chance to say anything to you."

I had no better response than ending the call.

I stared at my phone. "Typical Enzo." He'd been planning to move back for a whole year and he chose my engagement party to start terrorising me? Of course he did.

I paced my living room, trying to shake off the irritation...and the worry creeping in.

I must be insane... But I couldn't just pretend I didn't know he was sick. If I didn't call him, sure, fine. But I did. And never let it be said that I let my soon to be ex husband die when I could have helped. I'm not that terrible.

"Ridiculous," I muttered as I grabbed my keys. "This is ridiculous."

But my feet carried me out anyway.

Double E Estate was even more beautiful in person, wide roads, trees, huge houses that screamed money... but I refused to be impressed. I asked the security guys for Wayne Street. They gave directions with too much eagerness. I wondered if Enzo put them up to that.

Driving through the estate slowly, one thought kept going through my mind,

How sick is he, really?

Then I remembered a random memory from years ago, when I was sick for some days and he babied me like I was made of glass. I'd teased him then, asking why he never got sick.

He smirked and said, "Because I'm an alien."

I definitely didn't smile at the memory now. Okay..maybe a little.

When I pressed his doorbell, a small camera blinked. His face appeared a second later.

"What?"

He sounded miserable. Good.

A moment later, he opened the door, leaning on the frame.

"You're really here," he said, squinting like he couldn't see clearly. "I thought I was hallucinating."

Then he added, dead serious, "Am I that bad? You want to divorce me that badly? Did you come here so I can sign the papers before I die?"

"Oh, shut up." I pushed past him. "I'm not as evil as you. Besides, if you're dying, why would I bother with a divorce? I'd be free from you anyway."

He smiled weakly. "Come in."

He walked to the couch and collapsed onto it.

"I'd give you a tour, but I'm tired."

"It's fine, I didn't come for a tour. Just stay there."

I touched his forehead lightly.

"You're burning up. Why did you stay at home instead of the hospital? Are you trying to die? Not that it wouldn't make my life easier..."

"Damn, you hate me a lot," he mumbled. "It'll pass though, I don't feel like I'm about to die."

"You still need a hospital, you should get checked."

"No. I'm going to sleep a bit."

"Fine," I sighed. "Sleep. After that, you should let me drive you to the hospital."

He smiled at me before drifting off.

I went upstairs to look for a blanket. One room was open, bare and half unpacked, like someone stopped unpacking halfway. I grabbed a blanket, went back, covered him and put a wet towel on his forehead.

He shivered.

I walked into the kitchen next and discovered it was empty. Nothing edible except you counted water and wine.

"Of course. The man couldn't even stock groceries but made it his life's mission to stress me." I grabbed my bag.

I drove to the mini mart, bought some groceries and returned.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, I saw him standing outside.

"Oh, you're feeling better already."

"I thought you left me to die alone."

I rolled my eyes. "Quit yapping. If you feel better, help me with these."

He eyed the bags. "Are you moving in?"

"In your dreams. Quit making silly jokes, I'm not your friend. Just get the bags in." I shoved a bag into his hands.

"Well," he said, teasing, "maybe you're not my friend right now... but you're still my wife."

I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out.

I unpacked the groceries while he leaned on the counter.

"I planned to cook earlier," I said, "but I can drive you to the hospital now instead."

"No, I feel better. It's probably just stress."

I checked his forehead again. Warm but not burning up.

"Your fever's gone down."

"Must be your magic touch." He winked. "Maybe your presence was all I needed."

I stared at him like he'd grown two heads and he laughed.

"Why're you looking at me like I said something wrong?" he joked.

I ignored him. "Do you want spaghetti and meatballs or not?"

He brightened instantly. "That's my favorite."

"I know."

"What can I do?"

"Move. You'll get in my way."

"You know I can cook, right?"

"I doubt you remember how. Move, Enzo. Or I'm leaving."

"Hmm, I know you still love me. You wouldn't let me die," he said with a grin.

"Keep talking and I'll poison you."

"Now that's the Elena I know."

He smirked and left the kitchen.

I cooked. He ate every bite. He tried to get me to eat, but I shook my head.

"I'm heading out now. Since you're not going to the hospital, you obviously feel better."

"Stay longer," he said quietly.

My heart fluttered annoyingly soft, but I shut it down immediately.

"I don't know what you think is happening here," I replied. "I'm being nice. Not that you deserve it. Let this be a reminder that I can be nice and my niceness can easily turn into killing you if pushed."

He smirked. "Your claws are showing. Does Nathan ever get to see this side? Have you ever threatened to kill him?"

"No," I replied sweetly, "because unlike you, he doesn't bring out anything negative in me. He's the sweetest man alive."

"Hmm." Enzo tilted his head. "Doubt it. Want to come upstairs real quick? Let me remind you how sweet I am too?"

I grabbed the nearest fork. "I'm this close to stabbing you. I'm leaving. Die alone, a**hole."

He laughed. Completely himself. Honestly, it looked like annoying me cured him.

As I walked out, he called, "sweet dreams, sweetheart... that's if you have any after threatening me twenty five times today."

I slammed the door.

In my car, I groaned into the steering wheel. "I need to get myself checked too, my brain specifically. Why did I come here? He wasn't going to die from a fever."

I felt angry. At him. At myself. Mostly at myself.

"He always makes me act rash. And I was trying..really trying to be civil."

I felt awful.

"Nathan can never know about this lapse in judgement. He's already angry enough."

I got home, dropped my phone, and it buzzed immediately.

Yeah, you guessed right. It was a text from Enzo.

"Thanks for dinner. I wasn't trying to make you angry. I just like pushing your buttons. You're cute when you threaten me. Sweet dreams."

I stared at the message.

"Yeah. Going to his house was a mistake, I never should have done that," I muttered. "Showing him any softness is going to make everything worse."

I tossed my phone on the couch.

Then, slowly, a thought dropped in my mind. It was dangerous, impulsive, petty.

And effective.