Page 6 of The Sicilian Billionaire’s Neglected Wife (A Painful Kind of Love #14)

“I S THAT THREAT SUPPOSED to make me change my mind?”

Cold. Businesslike. The words hang between us like I’ve presented a bad contract instead of shattered our marriage with three small words.

I blink. Once. Twice.

Waiting.

But there’s nothing in his eyes, nothing in his voice, nothing but that tone he uses for incompetent mechanics who’ve failed to meet his standards.

A laugh escapes. Wrong. All wrong. Too high and shaky and broken, nothing like the woman who spent hours making everything perfect for tonight.

“Not a threat,” I manage. “I would never...I’m not trying to...”

The words won’t come.

How do you explain you’re not threatening someone when your heart is crumbling? When all you wanted, all you’ve ever wanted, was for him to fight for you just once?

He watches me with dark eyes that used to make my pulse race.

Now they just...watch.

Cataloging. Assessing. Filing me away like a problem to be solved later or maybe never at all.

Tears burn behind my eyes. Hot. Unstoppable.

This table.

This beautiful, romantic table where I arranged every candle with shaking hands, scattered rose petals like a fool in love, chose champagne from our wedding year because tonight was supposed to be special. Tonight was supposed to be everything.

I’d thought...

“You don’t even know, do you?”

Small words. Lost words. They slip out before I can stop them.

Silence.

I watch a candle flame dance, wax pooling ivory at its base like my wedding dress puddles in old photos. That dress. I’d been so happy, so sure I was the luckiest girl in the world to marry Aivan Cannizzaro.

“It’s our tenth anniversary today, Aivan.”

His name cracks. Breaks. Falls apart in my throat like everything else.

Ten years.

Ten whole years of my life measured in his schedule, his races, his victories, and he doesn’t even remember the date that started it all.

“Ten years ago, you put a ring on my finger and promised—”

Oh God.

I know he didn’t exactly promise anything, but...

“That’s why I thought...what I thought.”

His jaw tightens, just that tiny tell I’ve learned to read after a decade of studying him, and hope flares.

Stupid, desperate hope.

Maybe he’ll say something.

Something that will allow me to think I haven’t wasted my life on a beautiful stranger.

But the silence stretches and stretches...while candle wax drips onto white linen, each sound a countdown to the end of us.

“Ten years,” I choke out. “And you really forgot.”

I make myself look at him. Really look. And what I see there finishes what his words started.

Nothing.

No surprise at forgetting our anniversary. No guilt for the tears sliding down my cheeks. No anger at my pain.

Just that calm, measuring gaze that makes me feel like I’m being evaluated for efficiency ratings.

Last night I’d stood before our bedroom mirror. Actually practiced. Rehearsed my surprised joy for when he finally said those three words I’d been waiting to hear. Practiced the perfect way to say “I love you too” like I haven’t whispered it to his sleeping back for ten years.

The humiliation burns through me now.

All that hope.

All that pathetic, endless hope.

“I get it now.” My voice comes from somewhere far away, somewhere already leaving this room. “I’ve been waiting for something that was never going to happen. And I just...I need it to stop hurting.”

“Then go ahead.”

Three words.

Just three words, and everything I’d built my life around dismissed like he’s approving a routine maintenance schedule.

I stumble back, and the chair scrapes marble with a sound like screaming.

Did he just—

Did my husband of ten years just tell me to leave?

Like it’s nothing?

Like I’m nothing?

I feel like breaking down when I see the look on his face.

It’s his pre-race look.

And it tells me I’ve already stopped existing for him.

God, oh God.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

What is there to say?

Thank you for making this easy?

Sorry my feelings interrupted your evening?

Sorry I thought our marriage was more than a business arrangement that ran its course?

I look at him one last time.

A man I’ve loved for over a decade, a man I married when I was just nineteen, and yet...

So beautiful.

So strong.

Those sharp angles of his face I’ve traced with trembling fingers...

The mouth that knows every inch of my body but never once formed the words I was dying to hear...

The hands that can coax magic from engines but never learned the shape of my heart...

And yet...

Why does he look like a stranger to me now?

“I’m sorry it ended like this,” I hear myself choke out.

He doesn’t even look at me this time. I can’t even be sure if he’s heard me. Is he even aware that I’m here or is he already busy calculating lap times or reviewing tomorrow’s schedule while I stand here bleeding feelings he never wanted to see?

Look at me!

Please!

Please look at me!

I want to cry the words out, and I think...

I think that’s what breaks me for good.

That I still want him to look at me...when he’s already made it so, so clear that it’s over.

And so I turn.

I have to.

Because if I stay for one more second, I know I might end up saying and doing all the things that he’d hate me for. And honestly, they would be things I’d hate myself for as well.

Don’t look back.

I chant the words desperately as my heels click against marble.

Please don’t.

Just don’t.

I reach for the door knob, and the cold brass under my shaking palm is a shock to my system. I suddenly start to panic, wondering what I’d do and where I’d go—

Ten years...

For ten years, all I thought of myself was as his wife, and now...

I step out into the hallway. It’s the same hallway I’ve walked for a decade, but it no longer feels like it’s part of my life. And even the clothes I’m wearing now...it doesn’t feel right either. I know I should head back to my bedroom and start packing. It’s the practical thing to do.

But I can’t.

All of my clothes and jewelries...they’re for that starry-eyed girl I once was.

That girl had allowed her husband to buy all of those things because she had been so, so stupid.

So, so stupid, God.

Because back then, I really did believe him promising not to disregard my feelings was him promising to try falling in love with me.

Oh God, I was such an idiot.

I bite my lip hard.

Be sensible, my mind urged me.

I should at least grab my wallet, but that would mean heading back to the bedroom, and I just can’t.

I don’t think I can bear seeing the same bed where he mastered my body but never touched my heart.

And so my feet start to move in another direction.

But this hurts, too.

Even with me needing to leave, I have to walk past the same flowers I arranged to brighten up the foyer, and of course they’re his favorite flowers, not mine. And then there’s the console where he drops his keys every night at exactly 6:51, the spot where I used to wait until he...

Stop it, Sienah! Stop! Just stop!

I can’t let my world revolve around him anymore. Not because I don’t want to. But because he told me to leave.

God, help me, please.

The front door looms, and I feel like throwing up.

I know if I walk out, there’s no going back.

And even though the thought terrifies me to death, I somehow find the courage to turn the handle, and a frosty evening wind hits my cheek like a slap.

Monaco glitters below, indifferent to personal catastrophes. The city pulses on, laughter from restaurants, music from clubs, life happening everywhere while I stand on my husband’s doorstep realizing I’m completely, utterly lost.

I start walking. But it doesn’t last. I get clumsy when I’m emotional, and this evening unfortunately isn’t any different. My heel catches on cobblestone, and I stumble.

Behind me, the house glows warm with light that no longer welcomes me, and I can’t stop wondering.

Is he watching me? Can I look back to see? Or has he forgotten me already?

The tears come now, hot and endless, and for the first time in ten years, I don’t wipe them away or check my makeup. For the first time in a decade, I no longer have to care about being the perfect wife to the world’s hottest F1 billionaire.

Just keep walking, Sienah.

Even if every step hurts and makes my heart break bit by bit.

Just take it one step at a time.

Even if I don’t know where I’m going from here—

When I’m afraid, I place my trust in You.