The Honeymooners

Seven. Apologies and croissants

I look down at the ebook in my hands and realise I haven't read a word on the page. Enzo got in twenty minutes ago having had lost track of time. It's late, and I'm ready for bed and waiting for him to surface from the ensuite bathroom. I'm not going to let my thoughts get the better of me, because if I do, then all I see is Enzo and Violet kissing each other.

Which I'm aware is silly of me considering I trust him 100%.

The bathroom lock goes, and then the door opens to reveal Enzo in his tartan flannel pyjamas and bed socks because his feet are always cold. I peep over the top of my ebook and absorb the beauty of him. The curls in his jet black hair congregate at the nape of his neck where he's brushed his damp strands after the shower, and his cheek bones glisten telling me he's using the face cream I bought him last week.

There's no shame in a man looking after his skin.

I clear my throat. "Hey, you have a nice shower?"

Enzo puts his damp towels in the wash basket and then grabs the television remote from the sideboard, making tracks over here to pull back the sheets and slide into bed. "Um-hm, it was relaxing."

I glance back at the book on screen and pretend to read the words. "Good."

Enzo gets hold of his pillow and turns it lengthwise. "I saw your wreath on the front door. It's beautiful."

I flick my finger to turn the page for the hell of it. "How did you know it was mine?"

"By the sign that said Ambrosia in the middle of the flowers," he chuckles, and I feel silly. It was Janet's idea to put my name on the wooden tag.

I nod. "Of course, so how was your night?" smooth as a cucumber.

"Good," he flicks through the channels. "Violet introduced me to all of her friends. They're cool people. Big into animal rights too."

I put the ebook down on the bedside table and move to my side. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes, it's quite inspiring. They hold group meetings every Sunday. I think I might go tomorrow. Get back in the game, you know?"

Enzo used to protest outside of animal circuses and caged chicken farms in his teen years, trying to put a stop to the unnecessary suffering of animals. We have a picture of him and his buddies with their handmade signs up in the study.

"Oh, can I come too?"

Enzo glances at me. "I don't think it will be your thing, Am, sweetheart."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

Enzo moves to grab his phone off the sideboard when it buzzes, a smile tugging at his lips. Who is it? I edge forward to look over his shoulder, but I can't make out what it says. It must be someone interesting if he's answering back right away. Even I don't always get that luxury.

"There are some difficult topics brought up at the meetings. I don't want it to upset you," Enzo says, putting his phone back on the sideboard.

"What do you mean difficult topics?" I reply.

Enzo folds his arms behind his head and stares at the television. "Animal torture and abuse. It's not nice, Am."

No, it isn't. "Oh."

"Yeah, there's a campaign going on at the moment here to stop the animal traps in the forest behind Violet's parent's farm. It's private land so the authorities can't do a lot. They have no clue who are laying the traps down."

I frown. "No one has caught who it is yet?"

"No, Vi said they have tried checking at all times of day and night but never find them."