"You are lying"
Lav whispered, but it was weak. Fragile. "I wish I were" Enzo avoided the eyes. She shook her head, slow at first, then faster. "She would have told me. My father would have told me. He wouldn't just—he wouldn't let himself die over you"
"He did not die over me," Enzo replied. "He died over everything. The betrayal. The silence. The image of us, together. He could not live with it. And he did not want to. Trust me; I tried to stop him," Enzo asserted, voice low and brittle.
"I offered to pull him from the match. But he looked me dead in the eye and said, 'You already buried me, Enzo. Now let the world do the rest.'" Lav stood frozen, her breath shaky. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. How could she believe this?
She wasted her life plotting on him just to find out it was all twisted. The argument her parents had started to make sense. Her father was confronting and bidding farewell while her mother was pleading and stopping him with everything.
