39| Profession

“Is this about me, Willow?” Lorenzo asks.

Suddenly, I hesitated to answer, mouth dry like cotton and tongue heavy like a wet carpet. Were my words too transparent or was he just self-conscious that I was trying to talk about him?

“Is there something you want to talk to me about?” He asks again, his voice as patient and calm as ever, almost making me guilty of thinking of him as a murderer.

But I can’t get it out of my head, I mean the contents of that letter. I can’t get the written words that Rose had sent inside that letter out of my head and I’m starting to have second thoughts about the man I’ve come to love.

“Enzo,” I start, my tongue darting out to wet my lips nervously as I fiddle with my fingers.

He hummed in response, forcing me to carry on with my words.

“Do you know someone named Rose?”

I felt his body stiffen slightly at my question, it made my racing heart pound faster. I clench my sweaty fists, trying to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

Blinking rapidly to avoid te