“I’m saying I’m tired of holding on to something that doesn’t want to be held,” I said. “You already have his love, his loyalty, his name whispered on his dying breath. Why not take the paperwork too?”
Her face paled, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn’t believe I wasn’t screaming or sobbing.
“You can’t mean that. You’re angry, that’s all—”
“Anger fades,” I said softly. “But disgust stays. And right now, I can’t stand the thought of being his wife when all he ever wanted was you.”
Her tears stilled. Even she couldn’t cry through that.
“So congratulations, Loriana. From this moment on, you can have the title, the pity, and the man who bleeds for you. Be his wife. Be his everything. Just remember... you earned it in blood.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes brimming again. “Rosie…”
But I was already walking away.
“I hope he survives,” I said without turning back. “Not for me. For you. Because I’d hate for you to lose your prize before the ink even dries.”
The door closed behind me with a soft click.
And that was the moment I knew... whatever love I’d had for Dominic died on that operating table long before he did.
When I got home, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just sat on the floor with a stack of papers and started sorting through our things.
Bank cards. Jewelry. Property papers. All of it.
I lined them up neatly on the table, as if I were doing an inventory after a long, foolish dream that had finally ended. Every swipe, every gift, every lie—here they were. Proof of how much I gave and how little it meant.
....
Two weeks later, he came back.
Dominic looked perfect, as always. Clean suit, sharp tie, the faint trace of hospital disinfectant still clinging to him. It didn’t make him human... it made him polished again, restored, untouchable.
“Baby,” he said softly, stepping inside as though nothing had happened. “I’ve been so busy at work. I missed you.”
He tried to hug me. I stepped back.
He didn’t mention the hospital. He thought if he smiled the same way, if he kept his voice tender and routine, I’d keep pretending I didn’t know. But I’d seen everything. I’d seen him shield her. I’d seen him bleed for her.
He never bled for me.
“Where were you?” I asked finally, my voice low.