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Giulia gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “Idiota!”
“You know I’m your boss, don’t you?” I reminded her dryly.
“You’re a horse’s ass, Signor Giordano,” she clipped. “What did you do?”
“Why do you think I did something?”
“Because she’s too much of a saint to do it.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she didn’t give me a chance.
“Elysa must come to Piedmont,” Giulia continued. “You’re not just honoring your grandfather. Don Giordano was her Nonno as well. Montefiore is her father’s village. Do you know what it’ll look like if she’s not there? Everyone will notice. Everyone will ask questions unless you’re planning to rush the divorce through before then. Are you?”
I clenched my jaw. “I…I haven’t even asked my lawyers to look at the papers. They’re in the flat. I haven’t looked at them properly, just skimmed….”
“Is this why you’ve been staying in the suite?” She was incredulous.
“Si. I…miss her when I’m in the flat.”
“I thought you were staying in the suite withher.”
Her,I presumed, was Lucia.
“No, Giulia.” I felt sadness envelop me.
What a mess I’d made of my life!
I wished Nonno were still here—then everything would be as it should be.
I had thought that when he died, I would finally be free. That without his expectations, his plans, his quiet but undeniable influence, I would be able to live life on my own terms.
But now I knew the truth. I had been free when he was alive. Because as much as he had guided, shaped, and pushed me, he had also been my anchor.
And without him, I was lost.
Giulia straightened, smoothing her skirt. “Figure it out, Dante.” She turned toward the door and threw over her shoulder, “Before you lose her for good.”
I pondered her parting words.Lose her for good.
The words gnawed at me, burrowing deep. Did I want to lose her? The answer came quickly and firmly, surprising me with its clarity.
No.
The idea of divorce didn’t appeal to me, not even slightly. I didn’t want to imagine a life where Elysa wasn’t there. But how could we go back to the easy days, the days when she used to look at me with affection, when we laughed together, when she was my peace?
This was all my fault. I knew that.
I’d been a fool to think I could just swap out one wife for another as if Elysa were replaceable. She wasn’t—not by Lucia, not by anyone.
I looked at the silver-framed photograph on my desk, which Giulia had given me as a post-wedding present. It was from our wedding. Elysa was smiling, hope shining in her eyes—an emotion I hadn’t seen in a long while.
And that’s when the truth crashed into me. I’d taken hope away from Elysa.
Too late, I realized that Elysa had given me something I didn’t even know I desperately needed: peace. A sense of home. And I’d taken it for granted, even called itboring. If it was that fucking boring, why did I make it a point to be home in the evenings when she wasn’t working?
I didn’t have a sensible answer to that beyond being foolish and bloody-minded about being forced into marriage with a lovely woman by my grandfather. Talk about an entitled asshole…si, that was me.
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