Chapter 24 Worry About Me #2
Krystal turned her face away, eyes fixed on the dark stretch of road. The silence between them thickened, wrapped in all the things neither of them had said when it mattered.
Then, his voice broke through again. Low, gravelly. “I know I hurt you… when I asked for the divorce. But I’m willing to do anything for you now.”
Krystal nodded slowly, but her heart felt hollow—like a house once filled with warmth now echoing with nothing but silence. After giving him everything—her love, her trust, her entire life—he had tossed divorce papers at her like she was a contract to be canceled. A transaction.
At first, she hadn’t even cried. But later, alone, reality crept in. She kept wondering how far he would go for Esther. How little she had meant to him.
She turned her head toward him, and shook her head. “Thank you, but after a divorce, it’s better to keep your distance from your ex.”
Lorenzo stilled. The color drained from his face. He pressed a hand lightly to his chest—right over his heart—almost as if trying to physically hold himself together.
“Do you hate me?” he asked, his voice rough.
Krystal’s lips parted. Krystal hesitated. “I can’t say.”
But the absence of a 'no' lit something desperate in his eyes. A flicker of hope broke through the cracks in his composure. “Then I still have a chance?”
A small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “You don’t understand, Lorenzo.”
She took a deep breath and turned her head, meeting his gaze.
“You were always standing on the other side of the wall. And I was always on this side, waiting. You never saw what it felt like to wait for someone all day. Every time it rained heavily, or the sun scorched, or snow piled too high, I’d hope that maybe this time, you’d worry about me and come home instead of waiting for me to come to you.
That just once, you’d think, ‘this must be hard on her.’”
Her voice cracked slightly, but she pushed on. “I gave up everything—my name, my job, my dignity. I shrank myself to fit into your world. And what did I get in return?” She looked him in the eyes, unflinching. “A divorce agreement.”
She took a breath, her face drawn but sincere. “I used to chase after you, take care of you, worry about you. But I don’t want to live like that anymore.”
Her voice trembled, but her eyes held firm. Sincere. Sad.
Lorenzo felt each word land like a blow to the chest. A lump rose in his throat, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to say. He had everything now—his success, his empire, the freedom he once thought he wanted.
He had never really seen her—not truly. She had stood beside him every day, a constant presence, and yet he’d treated her like background noise. Their marriage had started as a convenience, a calculated decision sealed in ink. And yet, she had loved him without asking for anything back.
And he had crushed it in the palm of his hand without even realizing he was holding it.
He used to believe he had everything. Control. Power. A clean life with no emotional entanglements. But now, staring at the woman who used to be his home, he realized he had been empty all along.
Now that he had everything he thought he wanted, all he felt was regret.
Now that she was finally walking away—unapologetically, unafraid—the weight of losing her hit harder than he’d ever prepared for. It didn’t feel like heartbreak.
It felt like he was breaking. Little by little.
“It was my fault back then,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, barely holding steady. “I know I failed you. But can you give me one more chance?” He leaned closer to her slightly, like a drowning man reaching for air. “I don’t want our marriage to end like this.”
His eyes searched hers—pleading, desperate, full of raw honesty he rarely allowed anyone to see. All the arrogance, all the indifference, had crumbled. Now, he was just a man, terrified of losing the only woman he had ever fallen in love with.
Krystal gave a faint smile, her gaze softened for a second. Then she said gently, “In the future, be kinder to the people who love you, Lorenzo.”
She stood and walked away.
Lorenzo stayed frozen in his seat, stiff and silent, his chest heavy.
About half an hour later, Xander pulled up in the car and rushed over to him.
“Mr. Lorenzo—about the driver who tried to hit Mrs. Moretti today,” he said, breathless. “This isn’t his first time.”
Lorenzo, still tense from earlier, lifted his eyes with a slow, cold glare. “Who else has he gone after?”
Xander hesitated. “Two years ago… remember the car that rear-ended you when you were with Miss Esther? It was him. We had him arrested, but it was ruled an accident since your car was parked on the side of the road. He got out quickly on bail. It’s the same guy. Same car.”
Xander glanced back at the spot of the accident, and then turned back to Lorenzo. “It can’t be a coincidence that the same guy tried to run over your family again.”
Lorenzo stood abruptly, muscles coiled with fury, jaw clenched. “Then dig. Dig deep. Make him talk, even if you have to break every bone in his body. I want to know why he came after Krystal and me. This ties back to that ‘accident’ two years ago.”
***
Krystal held the divorce certificate in her hand, staring at the printed words for a beat too long. Then, wordlessly, she handed Lorenzo his copy as they walked out of the courtroom.
“I’ll drop you off,” Lorenzo offered.
Krystal shook her head. “There’s no need. I’ll go by myself.”
Just then, a woman walking by caught sight of them and gasped. “Oh my God, you two are such a gorgeous couple! Seriously, the most beautiful pair I’ve seen all day! You just got married, right? Courthouse wedding?”
Krystal opened her mouth. “No, that’s n—”
But Lorenzo casually wrapped an arm around her and smiled at the woman. “Yes, we did. Thank you.”
“I knew it!” the woman beamed. “You both look so in love!” She waved and walked off, grinning.
The second she was gone, Krystal shoved his arm off. “What was that? Why would you lie?”
Lorenzo only smirked. “Does it really matter?”
Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked off.
Krystal gritted her teeth in frustration. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head and walking in the opposite direction.
***
Larry stood across the room, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he leaned against the edge of the dining table. He watched silently, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes.
In the open kitchen, under the soft glow of the overhead light, stood Lorenzo Moretti—CEO of a billion-dollar empire.
A man who never even poured his own glass of water, was now standing in front of a skillet, sleeves rolled to his elbows, designer slacks wrinkled.
His jaw was clenched in focus, brows drawn in frustration as smoke curled up from the pan.
The stovetop hissed, oil popping loudly under his clumsy handling. A faint burn mark glowed red on the side of his hand—one of many.
Mrs. Smith, the housemaid who had served his family for decades, watched helplessly from a few steps away. Her heart ached at the sight. He’d burned himself again. Tenth time, she counted silently.
She rushed forward, unable to hold back any longer. “Mr. Moretti, please—let me cook. Why don’t you just cut up the ingredients, and I’ll handle the rest?”
Lorenzo shook his head, frowning at the older woman.
“Mrs. Smith,” he said, guiding her carefully a few steps back by the shoulders, “I said I’ll do it. Just stay here… guide me through it. Step by step. I have to make this for Krystal.”
His voice trailed off as a memory came rushing back. Her words echoed in his head, heavy with pain:
‘You were always standing on the other side of the wall. And I was always on this side, waiting. You never saw what it felt like to wait for someone all day. Every time it rained heavily, or the sun scorched, or snow piled too high, I’d hope that maybe this time, you’d worry about me and come home instead of waiting for me to come to you. ’
His grip around the pan tightened, knuckles paling. Guilt twisted like a vice in his chest. He had thought distance would protect her—from his guilt, from Esther, from the mess of his past. But all it had done was make her suffer.
And now she was gone.
‘Now that I’ve lost her and she refuses to come back, I realize I can’t even function without her. I didn’t even see how much she did for me until she said those words.’