Enzo's Pov
I try to keep my gaze fixed on the road ahead. She is right. I should be with Robbin. I have lost so much control over the last few days that I barely recognize myself anymore. I have become someone different from the man I used to be when I was with Robbin.
I changed into something more formal before I left, a crisp button-down shirt and dark slacks. There is a large bouquet of her favorite flowers on the passenger seat, along with two expensive boxes of chocolate and a small jewelry box—anything I know that has cheered her up in the past.
The logic is simple. I have only known Eden for three chaotic days. I have been with Robbin for nine stable years. Nothing, especially not some arranged marriage, should be able to replace that history.
