Chapter 34
Amber could see the memory as clearly as if it were yesterday, playing out in perfect, agonizing detail. She’d been six months pregnant, draped across the couch, exhausted and hollowed by relentless nausea that had robbed her of every trace of appetite. That day, she lay half-asleep, still and listless, her mind wrapped in fog. Then she’d heard the door open early, Luca returning from work hours before usual.
When she opened her eyes, there he was, standing in the doorway with that irrepressible, radiant smile—one she had privately compared to the charm of a Greek god, a smile so full of life and mischief that it could light up any room. Her heart had surged in her chest just from the sight of him. Despite everything, he had always looked at her as if she were the only thing that mattered, and she’d been powerless to resist him. In that moment, even worn and weary as she was, a flicker of warmth had sparked in her heart, rekindling embers that had never truly died.
Without a word, Luca had dropped his briefcase to the floor, shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie as he crossed the room in a few swift strides. Before she could process what he was doing, he bent down and captured her lips in a fierce kiss, his hand cradling the back of her head as he pressed closer. It was no simple kiss—no light peck or gentle greeting—but a full, consuming embrace, a kiss that felt like it carried a thousand silent promises. She felt his warmth seep into her, his lips firm against hers, the taste of him igniting her like the touch of fire to paper.
By the time he finally pulled back, her heart was racing, her breath catching as she blinked up at him, dazed. “What…what was that for?” she managed, barely able to catch her breath.
Luca gave her one of those playful, all-knowing smiles, his eyes sparkling. “I’m your husband, and every husband deserves a ‘welcome home’ kiss.” He said it with a teasing authority, as though it were an undisputed law of the universe. “Since you didn’t get up to offer one like a good wife should, I took it upon myself to collect.” He punctuated the sentence with a wink, his hand slipping to rest on her stomach, his palm spread tenderly over the curve of her belly, feeling the faint movements of the baby within. His expression softened, and for a brief moment, he looked at her like she was a miracle, like the life inside her made her something precious beyond measure.
With that, he straightened, retrieving his discarded briefcase from the floor, pausing only to flash her a mischievous grin. “You’re welcome,” he’d added, as if he’d done her a favor, as if the mere act of being near her was something to cherish.
Amber gaped at him, still caught in that stunning kiss he’d left her with. Her mind spun, her heart twisted, and she could feel a furious scream building inside her chest, waiting to break free. The nerve he had—coming home, kissing her with that playful intensity, as if everything between them was real, as if none of it was a lie. A deep bitterness simmered under her skin; she wanted to tear her hair out, scream, maybe even grab a fistful of his too. All the passion he poured into moments like this felt like a cruel performance. She was half-convinced he didn’t even realize how deeply his family’s disregard cut her.
The memory of last night flashed back—at his uncle’s birthday party, where all of Luca’s family had gathered. She’d dressed carefully for the evening, hoping to blend into his world with just the right amount of elegance. Yet when they arrived, the first sting came quickly. She’d watched as his aunt motioned for Carlotta Ferentino to join them at the family table, offering her a warm, familiar smile while Amber was directed to sit at one of the distant guest tables. She remembered the ache that spread through her chest as she watched Carlotta settle in at Luca’s side like she belonged there, his family looking on approvingly, as though she were part of them and Amber was an outsider.
But Luca had noticed too, and to his credit, he didn’t ignore it. He’d left the family table without hesitation, moving to sit beside her at the guest table, a quiet apology in his eyes. Throughout the evening, he tried to ease her discomfort, his presence a silent assurance as he whispered comments to her, his arm brushing hers under the table. She felt the tension between them soften as he tried to make her laugh, one dad joke after another, his voice dipping low as he pointed to the ostentatious chandelier hanging above them, making some ridiculous comparison to a crystal pig’s head. He knew she wasn’t enjoying herself, but he’d made it his mission to lift her spirits, and for a moment, she almost forgot the sharp edges of her frustration.
She wanted to resist, to not give in so easily to his easy charm, but he kept going, his eyes filled with that determined, familiar warmth. So, despite herself, she’d laughed at one of his jokes, not because it was particularly funny, but because she could see the effort he was making. She watched as his shoulders relaxed, his face breaking into that relieved, boyish grin she hadn’t seen in so long.
Amber could sense something brewing, a strange undercurrent that seemed to linger in every sideways glance and whispered conversation around her. She had tried to dismiss it at first, but the feeling only grew stronger as the evening wore on. Luca’s family, who had once been polite, if distant, now seemed to study her with a sharper eye. It was as if each of them was waiting, poised for some unknown cue to strike, and the air was thick with a tension only she seemed to feel.
When the drinks were served, the room seemed to shift. Conversations grew louder, laughter more pronounced, and Amber could feel herself loosening up ever so slightly in the warmth of Luca’s presence beside her. He held her hand under the table, squeezing it gently from time to time, as if to silently remind her that he was there. And for a fleeting moment, she almost believed everything was fine. But just as she began to feel comfortable, someone’s voice rose over the hum of laughter, slicing through the warmth like a knife.
“Oh, where is Luca’s *wife*?” The word was drawn out, dripping with sarcasm. Heads turned, and Amber felt the eyes of the guests on her, narrowing, probing. The voice belonged to one of Luca’s family friends, an older man with too-red cheeks and a penchant for scotch, who appeared oblivious to the venom in his own words.
Then, in the silence that followed, Luca’s aunt cleared her throat, an exaggerated, theatrical sound that caught everyone’s attention. She looked directly at Amber, eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction, and raised her glass high. “Wife?” she sneered, with an arched brow and a smirk that cut right through Amber’s composure. “Oh, please. A whore with a ring is still a…” she paused, letting the insult hover in the air. “…you know what I mean,” she finished, with a careless wave of her hand, as though she were simply making a casual observation.