An hour later, I was sliding into a worn leather booth at *Santini’s*, and a wave of vertigo washed over me. It wasn’t just a restaurant; it was a time capsule. *Our* time capsule.
The red-and-white checkered tablecloths, the Chianti bottles dripping with years of candle wax, the air thick with the smell of garlic and oregano.
It was the place we’d celebrated my first big commission, his acceptance into business school. It was the place he’d first told her he loved me.
The ghosts of our younger selves were laughing in the corner.
“A bit on the nose, don’t you think?” I murmured, trying for a coolness I didn’t feel.
“I wanted somewhere we could be honest,” Marcus said, his gaze unwavering as the waiter placed a basket of warm bread between them. He didn’t even look at the menu. “Two Cokes and the usual, Gianni. Thanks. ”
The usual. Veal parmigiana for him, eggplant for me. My throat tightened. He remembered. Of course he remembered. Marcus never forgot a detail. It was what made him a brilliant businessman. It was what made this so damn hard.
“What is this, Marcus?” I asked, my hands twisting a paper napkin into a shredded mess in my lap. “A trip down memory lane before you walk down the aisle?”
The barb landed. I saw it in the slight flinch of his jaw. “No. It’s an apology. ”
I stared at him, speechless.
“I’ve been a fool, Ava,” he said, his voice dropping, forcing me to lean in. “A complete, ambitious, goddamn fool. For years. But especially lately. ” He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up in a way I hadn’t seen since he was twenty-one. “Watching you work, seeing you every day… it’s just thrown everything into sharp relief. What I have. And what I threw away. ”
“You have Chloe,” I said, the name tasting like ash.
He let out a short, bitter laugh. “I have a strategic alliance. Chloe and I… it’s a merger. Her family’s real estate empire, my father’s development firm. It’s a transaction, Ava. It’s about securing a legacy. It has nothing to do with… this. ” He gestured vaguely at the space between us. “It has nothing to do with coming home at the end of the day and being able to just… breathe. ”
Every word was a hammer blow. This was the conversation I had dreamed of and dreaded for eight years. The validation I thought I no longer needed.
“You’re engaged,” I whispered, the words a flimsy shield. “You’re getting married in three weeks. I’m *planning* your wedding. ”
“An arrangement that can be un-arranged,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. “Tell me I’m crazy, Ava. Tell me you don’t feel it too. This pull. This… rightness. When we’re in a room together, it’s like all the noise in the world just stops. ”
Tears pricked my eyes, hot and treacherous. I hated him for making me feel this, for cracking me open when I was already so broken from Rhys.
“Don’t do this, Marcus. It’s not fair. Not to me, and definitely not to Chloe. ”
“What’s not fair is living a lie,” he said, reaching across the table, his hand covering hers. His touch was warm, solid. Familiar. It didn’t send a jolt of illicit electricity through me like Rhys’s did. It was a different kind of current—a slow, deep thrum of recognition. Of belonging. “I’m not asking for an answer right now. I’m just asking you to think about it. Is there anything left. Is there a chance we could find our way back?”