Tears finally spilled—hot and furious.
“Valentina, I know I was wrong,” he whispered. “I know I deserve your hatred. But I needed time… I didn’t know what to do after I found out the truth.”
I lifted a hand, stopping him.
“You had years,” I said, voice shaking with disgust. “Years to humiliate me, punish me, treat me like dirt for something I never did.” My breath hitched. “And now that you know the truth, all you can think about is how to control it?”
My eyes burned.
“You’re not just a coward, Enrico Ferrara,” I said, each word sharp and final. “You’re a manipulator. And I don’t know how I ever believed you were anything else.”
He looked away, shoulders slumping under the weight of it.
“What did you expect?” I asked, voice breaking into something softer—sadder. “That I would wait forever until you finally decided to tell the truth?”
He looked back at me, eyes shining with real pain.
“No,” he said, hoarse. “I just… I needed to understand how to fix it. How to repair what I did to you.”
I shook my head slowly, a devastated smile touching my mouth. I didn’t need a mirror to know I must look wrecked.
“You can’t fix this,” I said quietly. “You can’t erase years of pain and humiliation with one apology.” My voice hardened. “And you haven’t even had the courage to give me that.”
He took another step.
“Valentina, please… forgive me.”
“No.” My voice came out steady, cold, even as tears ran down my face. “Your words don’t mean anything to me anymore.”
A small movement in the hallway caught my eye.
My heart dropped.
Clara stood there—wide-eyed, terrified—clutching a stuffed animal to her chest. Silent tears streaked down her little face.
The pain multiplied instantly.
“Mommy?” Her fragile voice hit me like a blow.
Enrico stepped forward at the same time I did, his eyes widening with real concern.
“Clara—” he started, arms lifting toward her.
But Clara flinched back, hugging her stuffed animal tighter, and she looked at him with a heartbreakingly big kind of hurt for someone so small.
“I don’t want you!” she cried, voice shaking with fear and anger as tears spilled harder. “You make Mommy cry!” She turned toward me, desperate. “Mommy, please—let’s go! I want to go back to our house!”
I ran to her and scooped her up immediately, holding her tight against my chest as her little body shook with sobs.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered, stroking her hair, trying to calm her while turning her away from the scene. “Mommy’s here. It’s okay. We—We’re okay.”
Over her head, I threw one last look back.
Enrico stood frozen.
His hands were still half-extended. His eyes shining with devastation.
And for the first time, he looked like a man who was finally facing the true consequences of every cruel decision he’d made.
