232
Matteo’s POV
The office was quiet when I arrived, but not in the usual early-morning, everyone-still-setting-up way. It was the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like something was missing.
I scanned the open space, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gianna in her glass-walled office at the far end, but it was empty. My chest tightened as I made my way to my desk. She wasn’t here. And there was an high chance she won’t be here today. Like she wasn’t yesterday. And the day before.
“Morning, Matteo,” Cheryl, one of the assistants, greeted me with a polite smile.
“Morning,” I murmured back in reply. My response was distracted, my eyes darting back toward Gianna’s office. “Is Ms Lorenzo in yet?”
Cheryl hesitated, her smile faltering. “She’s… not coming in today.”
“Again?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, and Cheryl jumped, looking a little startled.
“I-I think she’s working remotely,” she stammered. “Excuse me,” she added before hurrying away.
I slumped into my chair, running a hand through my hair. It was the third day in a row that Gianna had avoided coming into the office. Coincidence? Not likely.
I dug into the files I was supposed to review instantly, burying myself in work.
The morning dragged on, each minute ticking by slower than the last. I tried to focus on my work-emails, reports, the usual nonsense-but my thoughts kept drifting to her.
Why was she doing this? Was she really so hurt that she couldn’t even face me at work?
Part of me wanted to march into her house and demand that we talk. But another part, the one that knew her stubbornness all too well, held me back. Gianna needed space-she’d made that abundantly clear. And marching into her house was only going to make matters worse, not better.
But this silence was killing me.
The workspace was almost empty right now. Everyone had gone to the cafeteria, and right now it was just me remaining here. I grabbed my phone, took the elevator up to the balcony and stepped out. The city buzzed below me. On a normal day, it would be nice to watch. But all I could think about was Gianna.
I pulled up her contact and stared at her name on the screen. My thumb hovered over the call button before I let out a frustrated sigh and shoved the phone back in my pocket.
Calling her wouldn’t help. She’d either ignore it or cut me off before I could say anything meaningful.
Instead, I opened my messages.
Me: I know you’re avoiding me. Can we please talk? I clicked send.
The message ticked blue instantly, indicating that she had read it. I stared at the screen, waiting for the little typing bubble to appear. It didn’t.
“Fuck it,” I murmured quietly, going away from the balcony. I entered the elevator and stopped on the floor I worked. When I got back to my desk, I found Cheryl hovering near my computer.
“Hey, Matteo,” she said, looking awkward. “Ms Lorenzo told me to remind you about the meeting this afternoon with the board.”
“Right.” I nodded, trying to mask my irritation. Of course she was still running things from the shadows.
Cheryl hesitated, then added, “She also sent over a few notes for you to go over before the meeting.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, already turning to my computer.
I glanced through the notes. They were thorough, as always. Gianna didn’t do anything halfway, not even when she was avoiding her own office. I couldn’t help but admire her dedication, even as it stung to see her so deliberately keeping me at arm’s length.
The board meeting was a blur. I handled the presentation, fielded questions, and did my best to act like everything was fine. But every time someone mentioned Gianna, I felt a pang of frustration.
After the meeting, I stayed behind in the conference room, letting the others file out.
“Good work, Matteo,” one of the board members said on his way out.
“Thanks,” I replied absently, barely hearing him.
When the room was finally empty, I pulled out my phone again.
Me: I can’t keep doing this, Gianna. Talk to me.
I hit sent and watched at it ticked blue. She had read it instantly again.
Still no response.
I sighed, running my hands through my hair. I walked out of the conference room and went straight to my desk, packing up for the day.
I left the office as fast as I could.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. Not from the work-I could handle that-but from the constant tension gnawing at me.
I dropped my bag on the couch and sank into the cushions, staring at the ceiling.
Gianna wasn’t just my woman. She was my partner in every way that mattered. Losing her, even temporarily, felt like losing a part of myself.
But what could I do? She was calling the shots now, and I had no choice but to play by her rules.
Still, I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.
I opened my laptop and started drafting an email, even though the idea felt stupid. If she could read and ignore my texts, what’s to say she wouldn’t do the same for this one?
Gianna,
I know I’ve hurt you, and I hate that I’ve made you feel this way. I can’t fix it if you won’t let me. Please, just tell me what I need to do to make this right.
I stared at the screen, my fingers poised over the keyboard. The words felt inadequate, but they were all I had.
I hesitated for a long moment before hitting send.
The email joined the growing list of messages she hadn’t responded to.
I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling with burning eyes. I thought back to the dinner night we had with Emilia.
I’d defended Gianna to Emilia with everything I had, but it hadn’t been enough to stop her from leaving.
“Dammit,” I muttered, punching my pillow.
I wanted to fix this, but how could I when Gianna wouldn’t even look at me? When she was intent on avoiding me and doing a very good job at it?
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and my heart leapt. I snatched it up, hoping against hope that it was her.
It wasn’t.
Emilia: Call me. We need to talk.
I groaned and tossed the phone aside. The last thing I needed was another lecture from my sister.
Right now, all I cared about was Gianna.