The Ex-Husband’s Regret: The Wife He Couldn’t Love

Everyone knew Francesco Greco, heir to the most prominent mafia family in Solerio, was a notorious playboy. However, when he swore to God that he would love me for the rest of his life, I chose to believe him.

But by the second year of our marriage, he began returning home with one lover after another. Traces of their passionate lovemaking were everywhere, from the bed to the study, the couch, and even the dining room.

So Madre Greco and I made an agreement. She said Francesco was still young and that I should give him eight more years. If he hadn't changed by then, she'd give me a sum of money and let me go.

This year marked the final year of our promise. Clearly, Francesco hadn't changed at all.

The moment I hung up the phone, he sauntered toward me with his 99th lover.

"Mia, where did you put our wedding ring?" he asked. "Selena wants to wear it to tomorrow's banquet. Give it to her for now. I'll get you another ring, okay?"

I felt my chest clench. He had spent a month designing that ring before we got married and had meticulously slipped it on my finger, saying I was the only love of his life.

While I had been generous with all the lovers he brought home, giving them whatever they wanted, I treasured this ring and kept it close to me.

This time, I simply nodded. "It's just a ring. If you want it, take it."

Even Francesco looked surprised.

"Why don't you come with us to the auction tomorrow?" he offered, trying to make things right again.

"If you see a ring you like, you can buy as many as you want."

I was about to refuse when his phone rang. As he turned to answer it, Selena Ricci sashayed over with a dark expression.

"Mia, sometimes I feel a little sorry for you," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Francesco's already fed up with you. If I were you, I wouldn't have clung to him until now."

The ambitious expression on her face was exactly the same as that of Francesco's previous lovers.

I chuckled. "You just spent one night with some trash I no longer want. And that makes you so proud that you forget your place?

"You think you're his true love? Funny. The previous 98 women all thought so too."

Rendered speechless, Selena stomped her feet in anger and stormed off.

After they left, I began packing my things. In seven days, Madre Greco would take care of everything, and I would leave.

That evening, I went to a restaurant in Solerio that was popular among couples. I had wanted to come here with Francesco when we first married, but he always claimed that he was busy.

Now that I was about to leave Solerio, I decided to enjoy the meal alone.

To my surprise, I spotted Francesco and Selena as soon as I stepped through the door.

He was allergic to seafood, yet their table was full of it. They didn't notice me as Selena laughed and fed him some dessert she had eaten half of.

Her fingers brushed past his lips, and surprisingly, he blushed.

Years ago, Francesco had acted exactly the same way, which made me believe in his sincerity and eventually decide to marry him. All this time, I had believed that he only had fleeting feelings for the previous women—that he wasn't serious about them.

It wasn't until now that realization dawned on me.

Perhaps he had been sincere with the other women and me—it was just that his genuine feelings for a woman were always short-lived and easily replaced.