A tight knot forms in my chest, twisting until it’s hard to breathe.
What if he’s with her?
What if there’s no business emergency, and he’s with her?
I can’t forget the way Knox held her or how she looked at him like she had a right to.
What if I’m right?
I could be. Emergency business is exactly the excuse he would give Sheila to cover his tracks, even though he trusts her more than anyone.
Damn it. Icouldbe right.
And the worst part is, she’d have more right to my husband than me.
The contracted wife.
Warm Tuscan air curls around me as I walk across the Devil’s Bridge in Borgo a Mozzano. It has that haunting, romantic, old-world beauty that quiets the soul. This was the first place on my mental list of places to visit.
Everything is breathtaking.
But the beauty only sharpens the hollow inside me.
I arrived in Tuscany earlier this morning. Since the flight was nearly ten hours, I slept on the plane, so I was ready to explorethe moment Sheila got me settled into the villa we’ll be staying in for the rest of the week.
She offered to come with me, but I wanted to be alone to lick my wounds in private.
Poor Sheila. She tried her best to make me feel better, but some wounds aren’t fixable with kindness.
She talked the whole way here, filling the silence with facts about the region and little updates about the itinerary, but I barely heard her. My mind kept replaying my night with Knox.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. And the fact that he hasn’t called hurts even more. Granted, he hasn’t called Sheila, either, but she’s been sending him updates.
No response could mean he’s busy. Or he lost signal.
Or he’s withthat woman.
I have no idea.
I stop by the highest arch and gaze across the Serchio River glimmering far below me, the surface catching the afternoon light like shards of gold. I look farther toward the village tucked into the hills and promise myself I’ll come back here in a few days to paint it.
The picturesque scene with its terracotta roofs, cypress trees, and cobbled lanes would be perfect to add to my collection.
So much life and art surrounds me. And yet, I’ve never felt more alone.
I don’t even know if I’d rather be here alone or at home alone.
Both feel just as miserable.
My phone rings in my purse, and my heart stutters.
It has to be him. Surely.
God, how pathetic am I that I’d take even one of his stupid terms and conditions over this silence?
I dig out my phone, breath catching.
And then my heart drops straight through me when I see the name on the screen.
