Chapter 72: Let's pretend

Alesso

I kiss her in front of everyone, trying to pour into that kiss everything I can't say with two hundred people watching. I love you. I chose you. I will always choose you. Her lips are soft and yielding and somehow absent, like she's already somewhere else. I cannot

That night, after we've smiled until our faces ache, after I've shaken hands and accepted congratulations until my wrist is sore, we finally escape to our bedroom. Danilo catches my arm as we're leaving, pulls me aside for just a moment.

"Everything okay?" he asks, searching my face with the familiarity of someone who's known me for a while... Something had happened and I had not told my significant other and the weight of everything seemed too much to carry.

"Perfect"

He doesn't believe me. I can see it in his eyes. But he nods anyway, lets me go. "Call me if you need anything. I mean it, Alesso."

"I know."

There's nothing Danilo can do to fix this. No amount of brotherly advice can bridge the gap I feel widening between Bianca and me.

I pull her close once we're alone, desperate to reconnect. We make love, and it's gentle and careful, conscious of the baby, there's something is missing. The fire, the absolute certainty we had. She holds me and kisses me and says my name, but it feels like she's performing. Like the engagement party itselfnbeautiful and perfect and hollow.

After, she lies in my arms, her breathing evening out into sleep. I stay awake, watching the moonlight paint silver across her face, feeling the panic rise like a tide. She is slipping away from me. My Bianca, my salvation, the only good thing I've ever touched without destroying,she is slipping through my fingers like water, and I don't know why.

I tighten my arms around her, careful not to wake her, and press my face into her hair. It still smells like her jasmine shampoo, still feels like silk against my skin.

Please don't leave me, I think, the words a prayer I can't say out loud. Please. I can't survive losing you. I won't.

Danilo's words echo in my head. Hold on to her. Whatever it takes.

When I wake, hours later, she is gone.

The bed is cold where she should be. Panic hits immediately, the old instincts screaming danger. I'm up in seconds, pulling on pants, my hand automatically reaching for the gun I keep in the nightstand,but there's no threat. The suite was silent, secure. Just empty.

I find her in her studio. The door is cracked, a sliver of blue computer light spilling into the hallway. I approach quietly,old habits and stop when I see her.

She sits perfectly still in front of her computer, her face illuminated by the screen. Even from here, I can see she's watching something. A video.

Something about her posture stops me. The rigid spine. The absolute stillness. The way her hand is pressed to her mouth like she's holding in a scream.

My heart drops into my stomach.

Then I see what's on the screen. Even from this angle, even with the grainy footage, I recognize it immediately.

My study in Rome. Jennifer. The day she came to say goodbye.

The day she tried one last time to get me back.

No way.

The word echoes in my head but doesn't make it to my lips. I watch Bianca watch the worst moment of my life play out in silent, devastating detail. I see the exact moment her heart breaks. It's not dramatic no tears, no gasping. Just a small, devastating collapse inward, like a star dying. Her hand drops from her mouth. Her expression goes carefully, terrifyingly blank.

The sapphire on her finger catches the computer light. She stares at it like it's a shackle.

I should go to her. Tell her that kiss meant goodbye, that it was the moment I truly let Jennifer go, that every second since then has belonged completely and utterly to her.

My feet wouldn't move ,because I know with the cold certainty of a man who's spent his life reading people—that she won't believe me. How can she? The evidence is right there, frozen on her screen. Me kissing another woman.

After what feels like hours, she closes the laptop. The room plunges into darkness. I hear her breathing, quick and shallow, like she's fighting for air.

Then, silence.

I wait for her to cry, to scream, to come find me and demand answers. Instead, she just sits there in the dark, perfectly still.

I back away from the doorway, silent as a ghost. Return to our bedroom. Climb back into our bed, the sheets still carrying her warmth.

And I wait for the world to end.