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One month of dialling, one month of hearing the same stupid, robotic voice telling me her number doesn’t exist when I know it should. Or at least it did.

Every day, I dial the stupid number with the farfetched hope that she may finally answer, or that I’d at least get her old voicemail and be able to hear her voice one more time.

That’s all I need. One more time, just one last chance to see her, to hold her. To finally be able to call her mine.

I lean back in my chair and sigh deeply before tossing my phone on my desk.

Today is also my first day back in the office. It feels strange to be here after so long. The last time I was here was the day before dinner with Horatio and Mattheo. The day when my entire life changed.

A part of me wonders if I knew then what I know now, would I still have pulled the trigger?

Every single memory of the last year rushes through my mind. From thinking I’d never want to love someone again, to my fake wedding day, to falling hopelessly for Theá.

I know, with every fibre in my body, I would do it all again without an ounce of hesitation.

An alert from my computer draws my eyes up, and I see an email from yet another client politely declining a meeting. A year ago, people were begging for meetings with me; now they’re all declining because they have no complaints or worries, and their accounts are perfect.

I suppose I should be grateful that everything has stabilised. A part of me finds it interesting that despite the sudden news of my marriage and of everything that happened in the last year, the stocks have never looked better. Vitale Holdings has never looked better. Even my papá wouldn’t be able to find fault in this.

I’m not accustomed to this at all. My entire career has been centred around crisis management for so long, so to only have to do minor maintenance work feels wrong. It honestly feels too good to be true. A part of me is waiting for someone to jump out and say all of this is fake, and that everything has gone to shit again.

It’s the pessimist in me that entertains those thoughts.

There’s no real need for me to be here. No one else is here. My brothers are all on some camping trip that Valerie and Natalia insisted on.

I scoff out loud. I just know Ambrose and Augustus are having the world’s worst time right now, especially if they’re expected to sleep in tents.

I reach for my phone again, and the sunlight glints against my silver wedding band. Suddenly, the brief moment of joy I felt fades away at the speed of light.

I open my gallery and head for a very specific video that I know exists. It’s a video of Theá sitting on the deck next to the pool reading, her expression changing as she reads. Watching every emotion run across her very expressive face—joy, sadness, even annoyance—before she slams the book shut and simply stares ahead, possibly questioning her decisions. The video cuts just as she turns to face me, but the last thing I’m graced with is her beautiful smile.

A knock on my office door snaps me out of my spiral, and I hurry to reach up and wipe my eyes that have glossed over with tears.

Mattia steps into the office and immediately rolls his eyes. “I thought you went camping?”

“Do I look like I wanted to be in the middle of nowhere surrounded by only couples?”

“Fair enough, but why would you want to be here?” he asks, moving closer as I struggle to blink back the last of my tears.

Mattia’s eyes don’t move from mine as he comes to a stop in front of my desk. “Fra…” he sighs. I can hear the pity in his voice and I fucking hate it.

“I miss her so much. This whole thing is so fucked up,” I finally admit out loud. Yet my cousin doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised. If anything, he looks…happy? “Does my emotional distress bring you joy? Why are you smiling like a lunatic?”

“I’m not happy because you’re sad. I’m happy you’re finally admitting that you’re sad and that you miss her.”

“I figured it was obvious. Why did I need to admit it for you to take it seriously?”

“Purely for entertainment purposes, duh. But it’s also part of the reason I stopped by.”

I raise my brow. “Here I thought you just wanted to check in.”

“I need a favour.”

“Well, since I owe you my life, sure,” I joke, but only I laugh.

“No, you don’t. I don’t want you feeling indebted to me. I just want this one tiny favour and nothing else.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. What is it?”