Chapter 4

On Saturday morning, I went back for my final scheduled follow-up.

The doctor reviewed the ultrasound.

“You're recovering, but this has taken a toll. Give yourself at least a month to rest and get your strength back.”

She handed me the report.

“Before trying again, it would be worth coming in with your husband so we can discuss everything together.”

“There won't be a next time,” I said quietly.

She paused. Then she let the subject go.

I sat in the hospital lobby for a long time afterward.

Nearby, a man held a newborn. Every tiny cry sent him fumbling, anxious to find out what the baby needed.

I thought about the child who had been with me for only six weeks.

So small.

I'd barely had time to understand that there was someone to love.

And on the day I lost that child, the father was holding an ice pack against another woman's face.

From the hospital, I went to Claire's office.

Two copies of the settlement lay on her desk.

She pushed one toward me.

I picked up the pen and signed my name.

“Would you like me to contact him?” she asked.

“No. I'll send him his copy.”

She kept one for the file. I slid the other into a document envelope.

After three years, we hadn't even managed a conversation about the end.

At home, I put my wedding ring in the envelope with the signed agreement and booked a same-day courier to Luca's office. This was his personal copy; Claire would handle the formal filing and service.

“Please make sure he gets it himself,” I told the courier.

When the door closed, I went to pack. I had decided to leave; all that remained was putting my belongings in a suitcase.

Across town, at Moretti Holdings, Bianca carried a cup of coffee into Luca's office.

“Thank you for taking me back to the clinic so late last night.”

She set it on his desk and smiled.

“It turned out to be nothing. I hope Elena doesn't find out and get upset again.”

Luca frowned but said nothing.

Bianca kept going.

“She really seems to have a problem with me. You've already got enough to deal with without having to manage her moods too.”

A knock interrupted her.

His secretary came in carrying the courier envelope.

“Hand delivery for you, Don Moretti.”

Bianca glanced at the label.

“Elena sent it here? How dramatic. What could possibly be so urgent?”

Luca's expression cooled.

He remembered me at his mother's table, my face almost bloodless.

“Don't speak about her like that.”

Bianca blinked.

“I was only joking.”

“She hasn't been well. Stop making her the punch line.”

He reached for the envelope.

“And from now on, deal with your personal errands yourself. Call me if there's a real emergency.”

Her smile stiffened.

Luca tore open the seal.

My ring slipped out and struck the desk with a small, clear sound.

His hand stopped.

He had put it on my finger himself. In three years, he'd almost never seen me without it.

He pulled out the papers.

MARITAL SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT.

At the bottom, beneath the terms, was my signature.

Elena Hart.

His phone rang before he could turn the page.

He answered automatically.

“Mr. Moretti? This is the postoperative care nurse at St. Catherine's. Elena listed you as her support contact and authorized us to discuss her recovery. We couldn't reach her this afternoon. Has she had any more bleeding since the miscarriage?”

The paper crumpled in his hand.

“The what?”

Bianca had gone very still beside the desk.

The nurse repeated the word, gently this time.

And for the first time in his life, the Don of the Moretti family couldn't make himself speak.