“I care about you, Mia. I really do. But I can’t let her go.” A tear runs down my cheek. I don’t bother swatting it away. “That is why we would never work, Lorenzo. Not because you still love your wife—of course you do—but because you have no idea who I am. For a man so intuitive to my emotions and my physical needs, you don’t actually know me at all.” His brow furrows. “I know you, Mia.” “No.” I shake my head. “If you knew me, you’d know that I believe every person we love makes their mark on our hearts, shaping us into the people we become. You are the man you are because of Anya. Who knows
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