Chapter 169

Chapter 169
Sheryl's POV

I woke to the sound of gentle knocking at my door. Three soft taps, a pause, then three more. Polite yet persistent.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I glanced at my phone. Eight in the morning. Too early after the emotional whirlwind of last night.

As I shuffled into the living room, I was struck by how immaculate everything looked. The sofa cushions were perfectly arranged, the coffee table spotless. If I hadn't known better, I might have convinced myself that Rhett had never been here at all.

The knocking continued. I opened the door to find Aiko, my twenty-something neighbor with her signature blunt bangs and kawaii style. Her round face immediately registered guilt when she saw my sleepy state.

"I'm so sorry to wake you, Sheryl," she apologized in accented English.

"It's fine," I waved dismissively. "What's up?"

She held up a small bucket, her expression sheepish. "My water's out again. Could I possibly..." She peered hesitantly past me into the apartment. "Is it okay if I fill this up for my morning routine?"

"Of course." I stepped aside, leading her to the kitchen.

While the bucket filled, Aiko's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Sheryl, I saw the most gorgeous man at your door last night!" She clasped her hands together dreamily. "How can someone be so handsome? He looked like he stepped out of a magazine!"

I forced a smile, uncomfortable with her enthusiasm about Rhett. "Yeah, he's... something."

"Is he your boyfriend?" she asked hopefully.

"No," I replied too quickly.

"No?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"We're just... acquaintances. Both Americans in Italy." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

What I didn't realize was that Rhett had arrived at the doorway, frozen in his tracks as he overheard my words.

Aiko sighed wistfully. "I wonder if he's single. Meeting someone like that while traveling abroad—it's like a romance novel come true!"

Her bucket full, she thanked me and headed for the door. There she came face-to-face with Rhett himself, towering in the doorway in a black wool coat that accentuated his tall, lean frame. His chestnut hair was immaculately styled, and his perfect features were set in an expression of cool indifference.

I froze, wondering if he'd heard my words.

"This is heavy," Aiko cooed, batting her eyelashes at him. "Would you mind helping me carry it?"

Rhett didn't even spare her a glance. His rejection couldn't have been clearer if he'd spelled it out.

Rather than being deterred, Aiko seemed even more intrigued. As she passed him, she deliberately brushed her fingers against his hand—a clear invitation that didn't escape my notice. Something twisted in my chest at the sight, and I quickly averted my eyes.

Rhett stepped inside without a word, closed the door decisively, and placed a paper bag on the dining table. He removed his coat with practiced efficiency, then glanced at me with an unreadable expression.

"I need to use your sink," he announced flatly, striding toward the bathroom.

I was about to comment on his unusual politeness when I realized what he was doing—meticulously washing the finger Aiko had touched, scrubbing as if trying to remove the skin itself.

"You seem disgusted now, but you didn't exactly dodge her advances," I remarked before I could stop myself, my tone sharper than intended.

Rhett said nothing, his mood visibly sour. After thoroughly washing his hands, he emerged from the bathroom, glanced at my bare feet, and retrieved a pair of slippers from the bedroom, tossing them at my feet.

"Put these on and eat breakfast," he ordered, his voice like ice.

He was angry. I could tell immediately.

Only then did I notice the breakfast he'd brought. As he unpacked it on the table, I was surprised to see a spread of perfectly prepared eggs Benedict, fresh bagels, and a small bowl of mixed berries—foods that weren't exactly standard fare in this part of Italy.

Rhett handed me a fork. "Eat while it's hot."

"Where did you get this?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He seemed about to brush off my question with a vague answer, then reconsidered. "When I first moved abroad, I couldn't adjust to foreign cuisine," he explained. "I have a personal chef who prepares American meals wherever I travel."

Before I could ask for details, he continued: "I went to Rome in the early hours, to my apartment in Italy. This was flown in by helicopter this morning."

I nearly dropped my fork. "A helicopter? For breakfast?"

Rhett's lips quirked into a slight smile at my astonishment. "It's only about 330 miles from here, just an hour and a half by helicopter. Worth it for a hot meal."

I stared at the food, suddenly overcome with complex emotions. "Rhett, I—"

"Did you sleep well?" he interrupted, his tone casual but his eyes searching.

I knew he was thinking about our conversation last night, about how I'd dismissed him as a mere acquaintance to Aiko. Part of me wanted to explain, but another part felt defensive.

"I slept fine," I lied, conscious of the dark circles under my eyes that surely betrayed me.

Rhett's knowing smile made it clear he didn't believe me for a second, but he said nothing as I stuffed a forkful of eggs into my mouth.

After breakfast, I changed clothes and emerged to find Rhett still in my apartment, speaking on the phone in rapid-fire sentences about Hayes Enterprise projects. The conversation reminded me of an uncomfortable truth: unlike me, who could manage my work remotely, Rhett couldn't stay away from Boston indefinitely. He was the company's leader, after all.

And more importantly... he had no reason to waste his time here with me.

When he hung up, he caught me watching him from the bedroom doorway.

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Rhett." I sighed softly. "You should go home."

His brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

I stepped closer, meeting his intense gaze. "Look at us—we can sit together and share a meal now. That means I don't hate you anymore." I forced a smile. "And if I don't hate you, it means I don't love you either. There's no reason for you to keep lingering here."

"That's your logic?" His frown deepened. "Not hating equals not loving?"

I reached up and gently smoothed the creases between his eyebrows with my fingertip. The simple touch made his pupils dilate.

"We can't go back," I said softly. "Let's divorce. Go back to three years ago, when we didn't know each other."

My voice was gentle, reasonable—not cold or angry like before. I was simply asking him to set me free.

"Okay?" I asked quietly.

My unexpected tenderness seemed to stun him. He stared at me, his chest rising and falling, the rim of his eyes gradually reddening.

After several seconds, he whispered, "Okay."

He agreed to divorce me.

Hearing that single word, I felt my finger tremble against his skin as unexpected emotion surged through me. My throat tightened and my eyes grew wet.

I should have felt relieved, but instead, there was this hollow ache expanding in my chest.

I nodded, my voice catching. "Then... you should head back to Boston. When I return in a few days... we'll take care of the paperwork."

I turned away quickly, unable to look at him for fear I'd start crying. But before I could escape, his hand closed around my wrist.

He moved to stand before me, visibly struggling to control his emotions, his voice rough. "Sheryl, fair is fair. I've agreed to your divorce, but you have to agree to one thing for me."

He was right. If he could agree to divorce, I could grant him one request.

"What is it?" I asked, eyes downcast.

"Give me one chance to tell you everything." His grip on my wrist tightened. "If you still want to leave me after hearing it all, I won't stop you."

---

The entire drive, Rhett maintained a tense silence, his jaw clenched, knuckles white on the steering wheel. I didn't ask where we were going.

When the car finally stopped beneath a massive Ferris wheel overlooking the Po River, I understood. This was his stage for whatever revelation he planned.

He ushered me into one of the glass cabins, sitting across from me as the wheel began its slow ascent.

"Why here?" I asked.

"I have too much to say." He gave a humorless smile. "And I'm afraid you may leave before I finish... "

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Cherisse has caused misunderstanding after misunderstanding between us. But what I told you was true—I never had feelings for her. She stayed in my orbit because her cousin is Alex."