The 99 Replies That Broke Us

Alessandro's face went dark. Whatever gentleness he'd had a second ago was gone.

"Stop it."

"I come home a few hours late, and you threaten me with divorce?"

I didn't answer. I just held the baby bib in my hands tighter.

He looked at me for a while. Then he pulled a small red and black braided charm from the inside pocket of his suit and held it out to me.

"Come on. Don't be mad. I made this for the baby."

I looked down.

In the middle of the braid hung a tiny silver Saint Christopher medal.

On the back, in crooked letters, it said: May Enzo grow up safe.

Enzo was the nickname Alessandro had picked out for the baby a long time ago.

He looked at the charm, and a smile warmed his eyes.

"I've never made anything like this. Serena spent hours teaching me before it looked half decent."

It felt like something was slowly grinding my heart down. It hurt so much I could barely breathe.

For those hours I lay in the ER, alone, losing our baby,

he was with another woman, braiding a charm loop by loop, praying for our child to be safe.

He didn't know that those few hours were all the time I ever got with our baby.

"Alessandro."

I looked up. My throat was painfully dry. "Did you read the messages I sent you today?"

"Yeah."

He didn't hesitate for a second.

"Then do you remember what I said?"

He paused. Then he leaned down behind me.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, the way you'd soothe a child having a tantrum.

"You said you had your checkup today. And the doctor said Enzo's growing great."

He even smiled.

But our prenatal appointment was tomorrow.

I lowered my eyes, and the last bit of warmth in my chest slowly drained away.

Ever since Serena got worse, Alessandro had stopped really reading my messages.

Once, I had a fever of 102. I was so sick I couldn't get out of bed. I texted him to pick up some fever medicine on his way home.

He answered fast. "OK."

But when he got back to the estate, his hands were empty. And he smelled like the sweet perfume Serena always wore.

Before my amnio, I reminded him days in advance to clear his schedule. I sent him dozens of messages.

He never gave me a straight answer.

When I lay on the exam table alone, and the doctor asked if anyone from my family was there, the only name on the form was mine.

It wasn't like I never fought for it.

A few times, I even cried and asked him why, the second Serena called, he could drop everything and run to her.

But I had to beg him over and over just to come to one checkup.

His answer was always the same.

"Her father saved my life. Now he's gone, and she's sick. I can't just stand there and let her be alone."

"Can you try to understand? She can't handle any more stress right now."

I did try to understand. I talked myself into letting it go.

But as the months of my pregnancy went by, all those moments of being ignored piled up inside me, until I could hardly breathe under them.

Once, I grabbed his sleeve, and the tears just wouldn't stop.

"But the baby and I need you too."

Alessandro looked stunned.

He wiped my tears away, his voice full of apology.

"I know. I'll do better. From now on, I'll read your messages the second they come in. I promise."

We had loved each other for seven years.

So I believed him.

Even today, when they rushed me into the ER and the doctor told me it was critical and I needed surgery right away, I held on to my phone. I wouldn't hand it to the nurse.

I kept staring at the screen, hoping he would suddenly realize something was wrong and call me.

I was waiting for him to say he was on his way.

Waiting for him to rush in and hold my hand, even if all he could do was see our baby one last time.

But when the surgery was over, I was still alone in that room.

On my phone, after my ninety-nine messages, sat ninety-nine perfect little "OKs."

I pulled a document out from the bottom shelf of the coffee table and slid it in front of Alessandro.

"Sign it."

He glanced down, and his brows snapped together.

"What's this?"

"Divorce papers."

He stared at me for a few seconds, like I had said something absurd.

"You're serious?"

I nodded and tried to keep my voice steady.

"We can sell the house and cars in both our names. Everything else gets split the way the agreement says."

"I won't touch any Vittore family shares. I won't take anything that isn't mine."

Before I could finish, his phone rang.

It was Serena.

The moment he picked up, her tearful voice spilled out.

"The power's out at my place. I'm all alone. I can't see anything. I'm scared..."

Alessandro's face changed at once.

"Stay in your room. Don't move. I'm coming."

He glanced at his watch, hung up, and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

On his way out, he finally remembered the papers on the table. His face was cold.

"You're pregnant. Your emotions are all over the place. I'll pretend I didn't hear what you said today."

I pushed myself up off the sofa and stood in his way to the front door.

"Sign the papers first."

Alessandro's voice went cold.

"You really want to do this now?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"This is about Serena again, isn't it?"

He was finally out of patience.

"I've explained it a hundred times. Her situation is different. I can't just leave her."

"Can you stop treating her like she's our enemy?"

He seemed to lose all interest in arguing.

"Fine."

He picked up the fountain pen on the table, flipped to the last page, and signed his name.

Then he tossed the pen back on the table, opened the door, and walked out.

"Don't think you can make me do whatever you want just because you're carrying my kid."

"Once you calm down, you'll see how ridiculous you're being."

The lock clicked shut. I held on to the wall and slowly slid down to the floor.

The pain from the surgery hadn't fully faded. A dull ache kept pulling at my stomach.

I looked down at the signed papers. My eyes burned, but I barely had the strength left to cry.

Just then, my phone lit up.

[Ma'am, your transfer request has been approved by the family. Please confirm whether you accept this overseas assignment.]

I stared at those words for a long time. Then I wiped the tears off my face and tapped Confirm.

Alessandro didn't know.

This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to turn back.