When My Husband's Number Hit Zero, I Left

Austin walked in and found me curled up on the couch in a thin nightgown. He frowned, strode over, and wrapped a blanket tightly around me.

"It's so cold. You should know better than to dress like that."

He sounded a little annoyed, but he tucked the blanket around me gently.

He hugged me from behind, his warm breath brushing my neck. He still seemed like the husband who loved and spoiled me.

I stared hard at the number, but no matter how many times I blinked, the blood-red "three" didn't change.

"Why are you so late?" I stepped back without thinking, slipping out of his arms.

Austin looked away for a moment, then quickly composed himself.

"Tomorrow's your birthday. I've planned a party on a cruise ship. Haven't you always wanted to watch the sunrise at sea? This time I'll be there with you."

He leaned in and brushed his nose against mine. Just as he was about to kiss me, his phone rang, sharp and urgent.

Austin answered, and I heard a child crying on the other end.

His expression changed at once. "Don't be scared, Ron. I'm on my way," he said, trying to calm the boy.

I'd rarely seen him so rattled. Even when his crew was under siege, he could give orders without batting an eye. But the moment he heard Bianca Russo and her son on the phone, he was in too much of a hurry to even put his coat on properly.

He got up to leave, and I caught his wrist. "It's late. Can't you send the bodyguards instead?"

Austin looked back at me, his brow furrowing. "Bianca just lost her husband, and her son's only eight. I can't stand by and do nothing.

"Livia, don't be so cold. Bianca's husband died protecting the crew, after all."

Cold.

That one word cut deep.

When we were dating, I stayed up all night helping him gather information on the other families so he could hold on to his power. I even used the money my parents had left me to keep his men loyal and get him through the crisis. When he was injured and feverish, I sat by his bed for more than 20 hours without sleeping.

Back then, he said I was the gentlest person he knew, the one who understood him best.

Now all I'd done was ask him to spend my birthday with me, and suddenly I was cold.

He'd already provided Bianca with bodyguards, maids, and a doctor. She had more help than we did, but whenever anything happened, she still called him.

Once, twice, countless times.

I looked at the number above his head. Exhaustion washed over me, and I no longer wanted to argue.

"Go."

Austin froze, probably not expecting me to give in so easily. Then his voice turned gentle again. "Wait for me. I'll be back."

I sat in the empty living room, staring at the wedding photo on the wall. In it, he was holding my hand in the church where he'd sworn never to leave me.

I picked up my phone and called my brother. "Get a divorce agreement ready for me."

I couldn't keep playing the understanding wife who waited for him to come home, especially when our marriage was already counting down to its end.