Sixty-One

“You kissed Gianna?”

Gypsy stepped further into the bedroom, hoping -no praying- that she'd misheard. That Dante and Enzo were talking about something totally different and her mind was playing games with her.

All her hopes were dashed when Enzo closed his eyes and looked away, guilt boldly written on his face.

She stumbled back, the realization punching her right in the gut. She'd been right. Oh God she'd been right.

Enzo really never stopped loving Gianna. Otherwise he wouldn't be kissing her less than twenty four hours after seeing her again.

“Okay, I'll leave you two alone to talk.” Dante said, but Gypsy barely took notice as he walked out.

“Gypsy.” Enzo said after the door clicked shut. The remorseful way in which he said her name nearly undid her.

He began scooting out of the bed and grunted, placing his hand on his knife wound. Gypsy nearly ran to his side to tell him to take it easy, but she forced herself to remain firm, crossing her arms on her chest.

Enzo finally stopped in