Chapter 166

Chapter 166
Sheryl's POV

My heart stuttered before I even looked up. I knew those hands intimately—every knuckle, every line etched into my memory. In countless late nights designing, every male model's hands I'd sketched had somehow morphed into these same ones.

I'd drawn these hands thousands of times.

I didn't raise my head. My instinct was to flee.

A strong grip caught my arm, pulling me back. Above me, a deep, slightly raspy voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Why aren't you making your wish?"

I finally looked up. That impossibly handsome face came into focus—chestnut hair tousled by the wind, diamond studs glinting in his ears under the fireworks' glow. His deep-set eyes looked down at me with practiced tenderness, thin lips curved in a faint smile.

Everything about him appeared gentle and warm.

I stared at him for a long moment before my lips parted.

"You bastard."

---

I couldn't understand it. I'd taken multiple connecting flights, cut off all communication, hadn't made a single call or sent a single text. I'd escaped to this small Italy city of Turin, yet somehow, he'd found me effortlessly. This man simply wouldn't let me go.

His hand remained firmly around my arm. I looked up at him with a bitter smile. "Mr. Hayes, have you finally decided you're ready for a divorce?"

Rhett's eyes swept over my gaunt face, his grip tightening slightly. He seemed afraid I'd disappear again if he released me.

"I never expected you'd come to Italy," he said quietly. The country where he'd spent over a decade of his life.

I suddenly remembered the connection between Rhett and Italy. "Don't flatter yourself," I replied. "My being here has nothing to do with you."

Rhett held my gaze, his eyes softening. "Sheryl, you still love me, don't you?"

"Ha!" I laughed bitterly. "What gives you that delusion?"

The familiar retort hung between us—the same response he used to give whenever I asked if he liked me. I hadn't realized how deeply those dismissive words could cut.

"I know you're disappointed in me," he continued. "I've kept many things from you, I won't deny that."

"But I never intended to hurt you."

His eyes held a plea I rarely saw there. "Give me one chance to tell you everything—what you want to know, what you don't even realize you should ask. Complete transparency. Please?"

I remained silent for several seconds. When I finally looked up, my eyes were clear and resolved.

"Rhett, if you'd offered this before everything happened, I would have gladly listened and tried to understand."

"But now the damage is done. The hurt has taken root. We've drifted too far apart."

I offered a small, sad smile. "So whether things are said or heard doesn't matter anymore."

"What matters," I met his intense gaze directly, "is that I no longer want to be with you."

As the final firework burst overhead, excited cheers erupted around us. Snowflakes fell between us, landing on his long lashes, making it impossible to tell whether it was melted snow or moisture in his eyes.

I glanced toward the riverbank. "Today's sunset was beautiful, but it's gone now. The fireworks have ended."

I turned back to face him. "So Rhett, we really should be over too."

Hearing my detached tone, his Adam's apple bobbed once. "The sun will rise again tomorrow."

"It won't be today's sun," I pulled my arm from his grip. "Rhett, we're not who we once were either."

His brow furrowed, seemingly unable to comprehend why I wouldn't give him even one last chance.

His eyes reddened, his tightly pressed lips trembling slightly.

"The hurt you've suffered..." his voice broke, "I know about all of it."

Too many explanations caught in his throat, all seeming hollow against the magnitude of my pain. He reached for my hand, but I subtly moved away.

His empty palm caught nothing but snowflakes.

I stepped back, my voice steady. "Rhett, leaves don't turn yellow overnight. My love for you didn't vanish because of one disappointment or wound."

I pointed at my chest, my eyes moistening. "But this heart broke piece by piece until my faith in you crumbled. I gave you chances. I gave our marriage opportunities. I tried to stitch this shattered heart back together. But I've realized it will never be whole again. Even patched, the scars remain forever."

He stood with his head bowed, like a child who knew he'd done wrong.

I looked away from him. "I'll leave here soon. Please don't look for me anymore. Let me have a few days of peace."