Chapter 57
“Why the hell did you say that?” Amber’s voice trembled with a mix of shock and outrage as she stared at Luca, her eyes wide and disbelieving.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Luca’s tone was calm, but his bitterness cut through the room like a sharp blade. His expression remained cold and detached, as though he were unaffected by her reaction, but the bitterness in his voice betrayed him.
Amber’s anger flared instantly, hot and all-consuming. She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms as she tried to steady herself. Words swirled in her head—furious, cutting words that she wanted to hurl at him—but she swallowed them down. She knew better than to argue when Luca was like this, so stubbornly dug into his own resentment. He was acting like a petulant child, wounded and lashing out because he hadn’t gotten the response he had wanted or expected.
Without another word, Amber turned on her heel and left the room, her movements stiff with frustration. She retreated to the kitchen, hoping the distance would cool the anger that threatened to consume her. There, she perched on the counter, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared blankly at the wall. Her mind churned with his words, their bitterness replaying in her head like a taunt.
Isn’t that the truth?
The memory of his scoffing tone made her seethe all over again. She couldn’t understand how he could be so childish, so intentionally hurtful, when all she’d done was try to have an honest conversation. Her chest ached with the weight of her frustration and anger, but deeper still was a flicker of sadness she refused to acknowledge.
That night, Amber crawled into her bed alone. She lay on her side, curled up under the blankets, staring at the door. Every faint creak of the house, every subtle shift in the shadows made her heart jump with anticipation, her breath hitching as she waited for him to come in. She imagined Luca’s tall frame appearing in the doorway, his steps hesitant at first, before crossing the small space and slipping under the covers beside her, as he always did.
But the door stayed shut, and Luca never came.
Her body felt heavy with disappointment, her mind restless and uneasy. The silence of the room felt oppressive, pressing down on her as the minutes dragged into hours. She shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the blanket, trying to find a position that would ease her restlessness, but none came. Her sleep was fitful, broken by the tossing of her thoughts and the lingering sting of his words.
In the dark, with no one to witness, her anger began to crack, giving way to something raw and vulnerable. She hated the way his absence left an ache in her chest, but she hated even more that a part of her longed for him to come back.
The next morning, the house was steeped in an almost unbearable tension. Amber and Luca moved around each other like opposing magnets, their avoidance as deliberate as it was suffocating. Amber felt like the air itself had thickened, constricting her chest with every passing moment. The silence, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of a dish or a muffled sound from the living room, was oppressive. She needed to get out, if only for a little while.
Under the guise of necessity more than actual need, she made her decision. “Nico, want to go grocery shopping with Mummy?” she called out, her tone bright but strained.
“No, Mummy!” Nico’s little voice came from the living room, full of excitement and mischief. She peeked in to find him kneeling on the floor, a determined expression on his face as he busily assembled a LEGO tower. The structure was oddly placed—right around Luca, who sat on the floor looking simultaneously amused and captive.
“What are you building there, buddy?” Amber asked, curious despite her lingering frustration.
“A tower!” Nico declared proudly, snapping another brick into place. “To lock Daddy in forever, so he can never leave!”
Amber’s breath caught for a moment, but before she could react, Nico burst into a fit of giggles, his innocence shining through. Luca played along, raising his hands in mock despair.
“Nooo! Let me out, please! I promise to be good!” he cried dramatically, making Nico laugh even harder.
“Alright, I’ll go alone,” she muttered to herself, stepping outside.
The grocery store was a welcome distraction. Amber wandered through the aisles, pushing her cart slowly as she picked up the essentials—eggs, bread, milk, cereals. Her movements were methodical, but her mind was far from focused. She lingered unnecessarily in front of shelves, running her fingers over jars and boxes she had no intention of buying. The mundane routine was oddly therapeutic, grounding her in a way that she hadn’t expected.
The checkout line, however, tested her patience. It stretched on endlessly, the minutes dragging as she stood clutching her cart. She shuffled forward with every small step the line allowed, her thoughts starting to wander again. By the time she reached the cashier, the hour she’d spent away from home felt like a lifetime.
As Amber drove back, her mind drifted to dinner. What should I make tonight? she wondered absently. Pasta sounded good, something comforting. Maybe Rigatoni... or Cacio e Pepe.
Her thoughts shifted, unbidden, to Luca. He loved pasta. Her chest tightened as she remembered how he would always smile whenever she made one of his favorite dishes, the way he’d say “You’ve spoiled me” with a teasing glint in his eye. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as her heart gave a sudden, sharp slam against her ribs.
What are you doing? she thought, shaking her head as if to dislodge the traitorous thoughts.
He was being a complete dickhead right now. Yes, he was! But something he’d said last night stuck with her, refusing to be easily dismissed or forgotten.
Luca’s words had circled in her mind relentlessly, his claim ringing louder with each replay: that she had been insecure about why he’d married her, convinced it was only because of the pregnancy. That it wasn’t the truth. That she had projected her own insecurities onto him and then left, believing he didn’t love her.
Was there truth in that? Amber didn’t know, but the question gnawed at her. It was unsettling to think that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t fully seen things for what they were. She turned the thought over in her mind again and again as she drove home, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.
When she arrived back at the building, the watchman was at his post, giving her an awkward smile. The memory of Luca’s cutting remark from the night before, loud enough for anyone to hear, made her face flush. Amber nodded stiffly and kept her gaze low, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t spread gossip around the building. The last thing she needed was to become the topic of every coffee-table conversation in the complex.
As she pulled into the parking lot, something unusual caught her eye. A sleek, impossibly shiny Aston Martin sat parked like a gleaming jewel among the average sedans and hatchbacks. Its metallic sheen reflected the afternoon sunlight, its presence so out of place that it might as well have come from another planet.
“Whose car is that?” Amber asked aloud, frowning as she stepped out of her own modest vehicle. The luxury car’s curves practically screamed indulgence, a rare sight in their humble neighborhood.
“Bloody hell if I know!” Mark, her neighbor, was standing a few feet away, admiring the car with a mix of awe and envy. “But she’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He ran a hand along the hood as if touching something sacred.
Amber didn’t respond, but a sinking feeling began to form in her chest. She had a good idea who this car belonged to. Her stomach twisted as she walked briskly toward the building, her mind racing. Luca. Of course, it had to be him. That ridiculous man, she thought. He couldn’t just buy something practical to get around. No, he had to announce his wealth to the whole neighborhood.
Her pace quickened, her sneakers slapping against the floor with increasing urgency. By the time she reached her apartment door, her breathing was shallow. She fumbled with her keys for a moment, then unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The moment she stepped inside, her purse dropped onto the small table by the entrance, and her eyes immediately caught something that made her freeze. Two people were in the living room: Luca, sitting casually on the couch, and a woman in his arms. A crying blonde woman.
Amber’s chest tightened as recognition hit her like a freight train. Carlotta Forentino.
Her brain momentarily blanked. Carlotta was clinging to Luca as though her life depended on it, her sobs muffled against his chest. Luca’s hand was resting awkwardly on her shoulder.
The room seemed to tilt for a moment before Amber’s anger and disbelief surged to the forefront.
What the hell is going on here?