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Lorenzo: Chapter 16

LORENZO

I find Dante in our study, reading over a stack of contracts Joey gave him earlier. Glancing up, he gives me a concerned look and sits up straighter in his chair. “You okay?”

Do I look as angry and distraught as I feel? I sink into the chair across from him and scrub a hand over my face. “I cheated on her, D.”

He blinks at me, confused. I should have known he wouldn’t understand. “On who, Loz?”

“Anya,” I snap, barely able to keep the anger surging through me under control.

He leans forward, folding his arms on the desk. “You didn’t cheat—”

“I fucked a woman who isn’t my wife.” Jaw aching with all the tension I’m holding inside, I slam my fist down on the arm of my chair.

“Okay,” he says in that calm, soothing tone he’s so good at, but it’s not working today. He leans back, eyeing me warily. Like I’m completely insane. Maybe I am.

“I fucked someone else, D.” I hang my head, dropping it into my hands. All I hear is the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. How the fuck did I let this happen? Making decisions with my dick, that’s how. I’m a better man that that. Anya deserves better than that.

He finally responds. “It’s been two years, Loz.”

I lift my head, and he’s still staring at me with worry etched on his face. “It could be two hundred years, it wouldn’t matter. Anya is my wife.”

“But she died …”

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” I spit the words, directing my rage at him because I have nowhere else to put it. “You think I don’t remember every single second of every single fucking day that she’s dead?”

He winces. “I know.”

“No, you don’t know, Dante. You don’t have any fucking idea.”

“I miss her too, Loz.”

“Of course you fucking miss her. Everyone misses her. But do you feel like every single day is an effort just to open your fucking eyes in the morning because you no longer have the one person who made your life what it was?” I don’t give him time to answer. “What if it was Kat? Would you be okay after two years?”

My words cut him deep; the pain is evident in his voice when he manages to speak. “I never said you should be okay, Loz. But you didn’t cheat on your wife.”

“So, why do I feel like I did?”

“Is this the first time you’ve … In two years?”

I scowl at him. “Of course it fucking is.”

“Wow.” He rubs a hand over his jaw. “I just assumed—”

“No.” I shake my head, guilt and shame eating away at my insides. “I’ve never even looked at a woman like that …” Until Mia.

“So, what happened. Who was this woman?”

Guilt clogs my throat, and I look down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

“Mia?”

I don’t confirm or deny, but he takes my silence as an admission of guilt. “For fuck’s sake, Loz. She’s my wife’s cousin.”

“It won’t happen again,” I assure him.

“Does she know that?”

I blink at him. That’s a good question. I have no fucking idea. I zipped up my pants and walked away, leaving her alone with my cum dripping down her thighs. Did she enjoy it? Fuck. I didn’t even ask if she was okay, didn’t stop to consider the fact that we weren’t using protection.

“Loz?”

“What?”

“Of all the women, why her?”

“Why not?” I snap, although I know he’s right.

“She’s my wife’s cousin. She’s not …”

I frown at him. “Not what?”

“In a good place?” he offers with a shrug.

“Mia is one of the strongest, most together women I’ve ever met.”

My instinct to defend her takes us both by surprise.

“I’m not suggesting otherwise, but you two together …”

“We’re not together, D. I told you it won’t happen again.”

He stares at me, and I will him to argue with me, because maybe raging at him will make me feel better. Maybe I’ll get a few shots in and the ache in my knuckles will distract from the churning shame in my gut. But he simply nods, giving me no outlet for all this impotent rage.

A vein in my neck twitches. I’m so fucking conflicted. I hate myself for even thinking about touching another woman, let alone fucking one. But I can’t stop remembering how good she felt. How soft her skin was. Her sweet scent. How her tight hot, wet cunt made me think of nothing but the incredible relief of being buried inside her. How for a few moments I forgot …

“You did nothing wrong, Loz,” Dante assures me.

“So why do I feel so fucking bad?”

“Because you love your wife.”

I do.

“That will never change. No matter how many women you fuck, it doesn’t change how much you love her.”

I grind my jaw. I know if things were reversed and he had lost Kat, I would say the exact same thing. But I can’t bring myself to believe it. Anya and I were different.


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