The Wife He Lost

Part 2: The Secret He Never Saw Coming

Vincent Moretti had never been a man who begged.

Yet by noon, he had called Emily thirty-seven times.

Every call went unanswered.

He stood in the middle of their bedroom, staring at the empty suitcase space beside the wardrobe. Her favorite perfume was gone. Her jewelry box was missing. Even the framed photograph from their wedding had disappeared.

On the bedside table lay her wedding ring.

Beside it was a single sheet of paper.

Vincent,

I spent five years believing that if I loved you enough, you would eventually choose me. I was wrong.

I hope Sophia gives you everything you believe you need.

Don’t look for me. Our marriage is over.

—Emily

Vincent crushed the letter in his fist.

“Find her,” he ordered his men. “I want to know where she is, who helped her, and when she plans to return.”

His security chief hesitated.

“Boss, there’s something else. Emily’s attorney filed the divorce papers this morning.”

Vincent’s eyes darkened.

“She can’t divorce me without speaking to me.”

“She already has.”

For the first time in years, Vincent had no immediate answer.

Then his phone rang.

Sophia.

He nearly rejected the call, but habit made him answer.

“Vincent, where are you? I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Not now, Sophia.”

“But you promised to take me shopping.”

“I said not now!”

He ended the call.

For once, Sophia’s tears didn’t concern him.

All he could think about was Emily.

He remembered the way she had looked at him the previous night. He had mistaken her quiet acceptance for understanding, never realizing it was the silence of a woman who had finally stopped hoping.

At the airport, Emily sat beside the window, watching planes move across the runway.

Her best friend, Claire, sat beside her.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay,” Claire said gently.

Emily shook her head.

“I’m not okay. I still love him, and that’s the worst part.”

“Then why leave?”

Emily looked down at her hands.

“Because I don’t want my child growing up thinking love means being someone’s last choice.”

Claire’s expression softened.

Emily had discovered her pregnancy only five days earlier. She had planned to tell Vincent on their anniversary, hoping the news might bring them closer.

Now, she wasn’t sure he deserved to know.

Not yet.

She wanted time to understand what she needed, to settle in Paris, and to make sure her baby would have a peaceful home before deciding what role Vincent should play in their lives.

Her phone vibrated.

A message from Vincent appeared.

Emily, please. Just tell me you’re safe.

She read it twice.

Then she typed a reply.

I’m safe. Please respect my decision.

She sent it before she could change her mind, then switched off her phone.

When the plane finally lifted into the sky, Emily pressed a hand against her stomach.

“It’s just you and me for now, little one.”

For the first time since leaving Chicago, she allowed herself to cry.

She wasn’t running away because she had stopped loving Vincent.

She was leaving because she had finally begun to love herself.

And thousands of miles away, Vincent Moretti was about to discover that money, power, and fear could not force a woman to return to a home where her heart had been broken.