Chapter 2
GAbrIELLA
“I hate you.”
I had never said those words to anyone in my life. But for the first time ever, I meant them, wholeheartedly.
Nico was shellshocked, his fingertips tracing his injured cheek as he processed what I had said and done.
He came for me then, hands outstretched as if he could fix the unfixable.
My husband took a step forward. I took one back.
We moved in a coordinated dance until he got impatient, ready to tackle me into his embrace.
Whack.
My opposite hand whipped out to slap him hard across the other side of his face. Hmm, now your cheeks match.
“Don’t fucking touch me, or next time, it won’t be a slap.”
I didn’t know what I was threatening, but I would find something. The fury inside me was ready to be unleashed, and the room was full of endless possibilities.
Pots. Pans. Knives.
“Gabs, it’s not what it looks like—”
“Really? ’Cause to me, it looks like you fucked me over, Nico!”
He winced. I wasn’t someone partial to foul language, and never did I resort to physical violence. However, these were extenuating circumstances.
“Please, just let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain?! Is that letter true or not?” I screamed.
His mouth opened, yet nothing came out. Just a few stilted syllables before he managed to choke out, “Gabriella. Babe. I fucking love you. Don’t do this to us.”
Us? He destroyed us.
Who is this person? This charlatan who has possessed my husband? He didn’t even try refuting the evidence. He was tried and found guilty—fucking GUILTY.
My emotions were in such turmoil that something inside me snapped.
Collecting a dish in each hand, I proceeded to throw them at his blurring form, which was hard to pinpoint through my tears. The loving dinner I had meticulously cooked for him so it was perfect for his arrival…I couldn’t stand the thought.
The whole tray of homemade pasta—gone. The heavy bowl of salad—broken. Once I began, I couldn’t stop.
He tried to advance, but there was no way I’d ever let him touch me again.
Plates and cutlery were next. Whatever I got my hands on flew out of my grasp and went soaring. I didn’t even aim, really, but from his pained grunts, I thought some managed to land.
“HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU?”
My senses were muddled, my mind a damn mess. I didn’t even know what I was saying.
I paused, trying to catch my breath. I was hyperventilating, and I didn’t want to pass out again. He would be professionally obligated to care for me, since I now knew he wouldn’t do it out of love or concern for his wife.
With my torso heaving, I asked, “How many women, Nico? The truth.”
“I-I don’t know.”
“FUCKING TRY!”
“I don’t know! They didn’t mean anything. I paid for them.”
“What about this paternity test? You must have had unprotected sex to knock one of them up—”
“At least someone around here can get knocked up.”
There it was. He always did have a fast wit and a waspish tongue. I’d seen him use it countless times, but never had he turned that vicious sting on me.
His face dropped immediately as he processed his own condemning words. Too late. He was far too late.
Am I alive? Is there blood still pumping through my veins? I feel like I am dead. Or maybe I just wish it so.
“The paper said thirteen years,” I said, cutting off a whimper. “That’s how long we’ve been married. When exactly did you get the vasectomy?”
He shook his head, wanting to refute plain logic. No, you treacherous bastard. You owe me this.
“WHEN!?”
“Just before our wedding,” he said. His cruelty was never-ending.
“Why?” I whispered, my speech splintering right alongside my soul. “You saw what those negative tests did to me. You let me think something was wrong with me. You let me hate myself for failing to achieve what I wanted most.”
My arms barred over my stomach on instinct, wanting to protect myself from the deep-seated ache.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I regretted it as soon as it happened. Then the lie became too much, and everything just got away from me.”
I choked, ignoring his utter bullshit and empty excuses. He could have had it reversed, or I would have settled for honesty. Anything would have been better than this.
“Have you always hated me, Nico? Have you always despised me? You must have. Why else would you go for the jugular? Why else would you want to cause maximum damage?”
That was when I saw the real him—raw and ice-cold. Resentment flashed over his face that he didn’t manage to hide in time.
An injured sob tore its way up my chest. “Oh, my—what did I ever do to you? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!”
Then he transitioned into a man I had never seen before. A ruthless gleam shone from his eyes as he looked at me with absolute contempt.
“Come off it, Gabs, for once in your life! You know you didn’t want kids with me anyway. I was always the second option.”
“Second option…?”
“YES! I’m the backup, the fill-in, since you couldn’t get who you really wanted. I’m not fucking dumb. I know you still want him. Well, FUCK YOU AND FUCK HIM!”
“What are you talking about? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I truly didn’t.
“Don’t fucking lie to my face!”
“You mean like you’ve lied to mine for thirteen fucking years? I’m not you, Nico. I’m not cruel like you.”
Then I raged forward, my fists pummelling into him. I didn’t think I was causing much damage due to my uncontrollable shaking, yet I simply couldn’t stop. I didn’t even recognise myself.
“You stole from me! You took everything from me! So many years wasted. Give them back! GIVE THEM BACK!”
I was tearing at his clothes, at his flesh as he tried to escape.
Then, a sharp whistle rang out. Our heads whipped to the sound. Nico’s coming-home surprise had arrived and stood shellshocked before the open front door.
“Ah, if it isn’t the man of the hour!” Nico yelled with an arrogant, condescending sneer. “Option number one!”
That’s when everything clicked into place.
Leonardo had been my first choice, and Nico had never forgiven me for it.