Valentina.
Matteo woke up twelve hours after his surgery.
I was there, standing in the corner of the room, shrouded in the shadows cast by the dim hospital lighting. I’d stayed long after the others had been ushered out… Valerie, Lorenzo, Ethan… all of them trying to coax me into taking a moment to rest, to eat, to breathe.
But I couldn’t leave him.
When his eyes finally fluttered open, confusion clouded his expression. Those beautiful eyes wandered, tracing the IV in his arm, the bandages around his neck, and the faint rhythm of the heart monitor beside him.
He looked so lost.
I wanted to rush at him, to grab his hand, to tell him he was safe. But my feet felt like lead, my chest tightening with an ache that I didn’t know how to express.
So I stayed where I was, watching him from afar. The staff couldn’t believe I was the same woman who had almost thrown herself on his bed so I would be wheeled in with him.
Matteo murmured something… a weak, hoarse sound I couldn’t make out… and shifted slightly in the bed. The movement was sluggish, restrained by the toll his body had taken. My breath caught in my throat as I thought about the wound, the blood, the way his life had seemed to slip through my fingers.
I didn’t move until he fell asleep again, his body finally giving in to exhaustion.
That was when I approached him. Cautiously, of course.
My fingers trembled as they hovered over his hair.
When I finally let them touch, I stroked his head gently, brushing back the dark strands that had fallen over his forehead. His skin was cool to the touch, but his heartbeat was steady.
I leaned in closer, my lips parting to push the words I needed to say out, but the words died in my throat.
What was there to say.
In the hours that followed, I thought about it long and hard. I thought about the words I would say when he woke up again, about how I would explain the storm raging within me.
Valerie had tries to talk sense into me earlier, her hand gripping mine as she said, “He’s asking for you, Valentina. Every time he wakes up, it’s you he wants to see.”
Ethan had echoed her sentiment, his voice quieter but no less insistent. “He needs you. Don’t do this to him.”
Even Lorenzo had weighed in, his expression unusually soft. “If you care about him, don’t leave him like this.”
They meant well, I knew that. But they didn’t understand.
Matteo and I were never what you would call healthy. What he had wasn’t built on trust or respect or even love… not at first. It was forged in deception and manipulation, wrapped in the chains of a contract that should never have existed.
We weren’t even truly married.
Thr truth hung over me like a cloud, a sharp reminder of how far we’d fallen from anything resembling normalcy.
What kind of foundation was that for a life together? For love?
Sure, there were moments… small, fleeting ones… when it felt real. When his touch was soft instead of controlling, when his words carried tenderness instead of command. But those moments were drowned out by the toxicity that defined us.
And then there was the death.
Reed. Caterina.
Their deaths weren’t accidents. They were casualties of this life, of the choices Matteo and I made, of the people we allowed ourselves to become.
I couldn’t ignore that anymore.
Matteo stirred in his sleep, his face contorting briefly before relaxing again. I stepped back, retreating to the corner where I had stood before, my arms wrapped tightly around myself.
This wasn’t about whether I loved him.
I did.
I loved him more than I’d ever thought possible. But love wasn’t enough. Not when it had been born from something so destructive.
I pulled out my phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. My fingers hesitated over the keyboard before I began to type.
The message was short. Honest.
“Matteo, I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad you’re safe. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be what you need, and I can’t be what this life demands of me. Please, don’t look for me. Be happy. Be free. Valentina.””
I stared at the words for a long moment, my chest tightening with each passing second. Then, before I could second-guess myself, I hit send.
The phone buzzed in my hand as the message was delivered, the small notification feeling like the closing of a door.
Without hesitation, I gripped the device tightly and twisted it until the screen cracked beneath my fingers. The satisfying crunch echoed faintly in the silent room. I dropped the broken phone into a trash bin by the door, letting it clatter against the bottom.
It was done.
I walked out of the hospital room without looking back, my steps purposeful but heavy. The weight of my decision settled over me like a shroud, but it was accompanied by a faint sense of relief.
The taxi I’d called earlier was waiting outside, its engine idling softly in the quiet night. I climbed in, giving the driver the address of the airport.
As the car pulled away, I glanced at the hospital through the rear window. The lights of Matteo’s room were still on, a faint glow against the dark silhouette of the building.
I turned away, focusing on the road ahead.
The city passed by in a blur of neon signs and dim streetlights, the hum of the engine filling the silence. I leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes briefly as I let the weight of everything wash over me.
I thought about Valerie and Ethan, about the look on Lorenzo’s face when I’d walked out without a word. They would be furious, confused, maybe even hurt. But this wasn’t about them. It wasn’t even about Matteo.
This was about me.
For years, my life had been dictated by others… by my family, by Matteo, by the contracts and the lies and the bloodshed. I’d been a pawn in a game I didn’t want to play, a puppet dancing on strings I couldn’t see.
Not anymore.
When I opened my eyes, I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. My face was pale, my eyes red-rimmed and tired, but there was something new in them… a flicker of determination.
I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew one thing for certain, and that was I wasn’t going back.
The taxi pulled into the airport drop-off zone, the driver glancing at me in the mirror. “Need help with your bags?” he asked.
I shook my head, offering him a faint smile. “No, thank you.”
I handed him a few bills before stepping out of the car, the cool night air brushing against my skin.
As I walked toward the entrance, the weight on my shoulders seemed to lift slightly with each step.
This was the start of something new.
The end.