Chapter 2 - The Nine Hours He Could Never Explain
The silence lasted so long that I heard the clock in the kitchen strike six.
Alessandro sat across from me, his fingers resting beside the antique watch.
Finally, he spoke.
"Because I was a coward."
I hadn't expected that answer.
I had expected excuses. Business complications. Threats. Something about the Moretti family.
Instead, he looked at me and said the one thing I had spent forty-seven days waiting to hear.
"I knew I'd destroyed you. And I was too ashamed to follow."
My throat tightened.
"That's all?"
"No."
He opened the watch box.
"Bianca told me that if I left the hotel immediately, she would expose our affair to both families before the wedding. She said Carlo would consider it a public humiliation."
I stared at him.
"And you believed her?"
"I knew her father was dangerous."
"Alex, you are dangerous."
He looked down.
"Yes."
"So you were afraid of embarrassing Carlo Moretti, but you weren't afraid of breaking my heart?"
He closed his eyes.
"That's exactly what I did."
The admission hurt more than another lie would have.
He told me that after I left, Bianca demanded that he cancel the wedding and announce their relationship.
He refused.
They argued for hours.
At dawn, Carlo called him, insisting on an emergency meeting about a shipment being held in Venice.
Alessandro remained long enough to meet Carlo and resolve the dispute.
"Was Bianca still in your room?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Did you sleep with her again?"
"No."
I studied his face.
"How am I supposed to believe that?"
"You don't have to."
He pushed the watch toward me.
"I brought this because I wanted you to know I kept it. Not because I expect you to forgive me."
For the first time, he wasn't telling me what our future should be.
He was asking whether there was one.
I stood and walked toward the window.
The lake was dark beneath the evening sky.
"Did you ever think about what those nine hours were like for me?"
"Every day."
"No, Alex. You thought about losing me. That's different."
He said nothing.
"I was alone in our apartment. My wedding dress was hanging in the bedroom. The flowers kept arriving. People called to ask whether I was excited."
My voice broke.
"And every minute you didn't come home, I wondered whether you were choosing her."
Alessandro stood.
"I wasn't."
"But you weren't choosing me either."
He stopped.
There it was.
The truth neither of us could escape.
He had chosen his reputation, his convenience, and his fear of consequences.
Not Bianca.
Not me.
Himself.
Before he left, I asked one final question.
"Is the affair really over?"
"Yes."
"Then prove it without asking me to watch."
He nodded.
"I will."
At the door, he hesitated.
"Serena, I know you don't owe me anything."
"Then don't make me regret giving you this conversation."
After he left, I found a small envelope beneath the watch box.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Alessandro and Bianca entering the Venice hotel together.
On the back, someone had written:
"Ask him why Carlo Moretti knew you were coming."
My blood turned cold.
May you like
I had told no one in the Moretti family about my trip.
And suddenly, I wondered whether my discovery had been as accidental as I believed.
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