The Wife He Lost

PART 2 — THE HUSBAND WHO REFUSED TO LET GO

At six o’clock that evening, I arrived at the Moretti family mansion wearing a simple cream dress and carrying a small handbag.

Vincent’s black car was already parked outside.

Through the windows, I could see him standing in the living room, his jaw clenched, while Sophia Carter sat beside him.

My husband had brought his secretary to his father’s house.

I almost laughed.

When I entered, Vincent immediately turned toward me.

“Claire, what the hell is wrong with you?”

His voice thundered through the room.

I calmly removed my coat. “Good evening to you, too.”

He strode toward me, holding the divorce papers in his hand.

“You embarrassed me in front of five hundred employees. You sent my belongings to my office. And you filed for divorce without even speaking to me!”

“I tried speaking to you five times. You were too busy spending the night with Sophia.”

Sophia rose from the sofa, her expression wounded.

“Claire, please don’t make this sound like something it isn’t. Vincent and I have been working late. You know how demanding his position is.”

I looked at her.

“Then why did you bring your personal champagne glasses to his hotel room?”

Her face paled.

Vincent’s eyes narrowed. “That’s enough.”

“No,” I replied quietly. “For three years, I’ve heard those words whenever I asked you for the truth. Today, I’m going to finish speaking.”

Before he could respond, Richard Moretti struck his cane against the floor.

“Sit down, Vincent.”

His son stared at him in disbelief but eventually obeyed.

Richard turned to Sophia.

“Miss Carter, this is a family matter. Please wait outside.”

Sophia glanced at Vincent, clearly expecting him to defend her.

He hesitated.

Then Richard’s cold voice cut through the silence.

“Now.”

She picked up her handbag and left.

Once the door closed, Richard looked at his son.

“Tell me honestly. Have you been having an affair with your secretary?”

Vincent rubbed his forehead.

“Nothing happened that concerns the family.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Vincent remained silent.

I watched him, waiting for the man I had once loved to tell the truth.

Instead, he turned to me.

“Claire, I admit I made mistakes. But divorce is ridiculous. You’re my wife. We can settle this privately.”

I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You’re worried about the divorce, not about losing me.”

His expression hardened.

“Don’t twist my words.”

“Then tell me when you last asked whether I was happy.”

He opened his mouth but said nothing.

I nodded slowly.

“Exactly.”

I placed my wedding ring on the table between us.

Richard’s face fell.

“Claire, sweetheart, is there truly no way to save this marriage?”

I looked at the older man who had always treated me like family.

“Richard, I stayed because I loved your son. But I cannot keep begging someone to treat me like his wife.”

He closed his eyes briefly.

Then he turned toward Vincent.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Vincent stood abruptly.

“I am not losing my wife over a few late nights!”

I met his furious gaze.

“You already lost me. You just didn’t notice.”

For the first time that evening, he looked genuinely frightened.

But instead of apologizing, he grabbed the divorce papers and tore them in half.

“There. Now stop this nonsense.”

I stared at the torn pages.

Then I reached into my handbag and pulled out another copy.

“Nathan Brooks is my attorney. He has the originals, and the legal process has already begun. Tearing up a copy changes nothing.”

Vincent froze.

“You hired a lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“Without my permission?”

I laughed softly, unable to believe he had asked.

“I’m your wife, Vincent. Not your employee.”

Richard stood and pointed toward the door.

“Vincent, apologize to your wife.”

For a moment, I thought he might finally do it.

Instead, Vincent looked at me with cold determination.

“You want a divorce? Fine. But don’t expect me to make this easy.”

I slipped my ring back into my handbag.

“I don’t expect anything from you anymore.”

Then I walked out.

Behind me, Richard called my name, but I kept moving.

Outside, the night air was cold. I stood beside the driveway, waiting for my taxi, when I heard footsteps approaching.

Vincent had followed me.

“Claire, wait.”

I turned.

His tie was loosened, and his expression was unlike anything I had seen before.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“That’s no longer your concern.”

His jaw tightened.

“You’re my wife.”

“Not for much longer.”

I got into the taxi without another word.

As the car pulled away, I saw Vincent standing alone beneath the mansion’s golden lights.

For the first time, he looked like a man who had lost something valuable.

But I had learned that regret was not the same as love.

And I would never return simply because he had finally become afraid of being alone.