Page 51 of The Ruin I Chose

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said to Antonio with a warm smile.

The terrace was sun-drenched, framed by terracotta arches and climbing vines. The sea stretched out beyond the cliffs, glittering in the morning light, and the pool shimmered nearby—its surface catching flecks of gold.

Antonio turned to me.

“So… Roxanne, tell me more about your work.”

I spoke with pride—about the spaces I designed, the stories I wrote, the way I tried to make emotion tangible.

My eyes lit up. I could feel it. I showed him a few completed projects and walked him through my website, mentioning when we started and my partner, Sahil.

Marcello had heard all this before. But this time, he listened differently. His eyes didn’t drift. They softened as though he was absorbing every word, like my voice was a melody he didn’t want to interrupt. He watched me as if I were reciting poetry, not pitching a portfolio.

He poured me another glass of wine, his fingers brushing mine as he handed it over. The sun warmed my skin, but it was his gaze that made me feel seen and warm my body.

Antonio leaned back in his chair, chatting easily with Marcello, but I only half-listened. My eyes drifted towards the sea—endless, glittering, unknowable.

I sipped slowly, letting the silence stretch between us. Not awkward. Just full. Full of everything we hadn’t said. Everything we might never say.

Marcello’s hand slid to my thigh beneath the table, grounding me. And for a moment, I let myself believe this could last. Then my phone buzzed.

CHAPTER 21

ROXANNE

It was a video call from my daughter. I answered, walking towards the parapet overlooking the sea.

Her voice was bright, bubbling with excitement. And mine tried to match it. But beneath the smile, something inside me was already bracing for loss—grief sitting under my ribs like a stone. I wasn’t ready to leave. Not when my chest already felt like it was cracking open.

“Mumma, you’re coming home the day after! I’ll be there to receive you at the airport.”

I smiled, my heart tugging.

“I can’t wait to see you too, baby,” I said, even though part of me wasn’t ready to leave.

We spoke for a while, my hands moving in animated gestures, mirroring her energy. I caught Marcello watching me between exchanges with Antonio. Not just watching—studying. Like he was trying to understand the part of me I hadn’t shown him.

The mother. The woman who belonged to someone else. I saw something flicker in his eyes—fear, maybe. Or recognition that I wasn’t entirely his to want. And maybe, the woman he was already losing.

As I hung up, our eyes met, an exchange of quiet smiles. Of knowing. And the kind of quiet understanding that felt dangerous.

My phone buzzed again. My husband. I frowned as I answered, turning away so Marcello wouldn’t see the irritation on my face. His voice didn’t soothe me anymore—it scraped.

“It’s not a good time...” I began.

He interrupted me,

“Please, Roxy. I miss you,” he said. “I’m sorry. I want to fix things. I can be the man you need. We’ll get through this. We always do.”

I didn’t know what to say. I stared out at the sea, the waves crashing below in a rhythm I couldn’t follow. My mind went blank, my throat burning like the words were clawing their way out. I wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to curse the universe for playing this nasty trick on me.

I was angry at myself for putting up with this sham of a marriage for so long—and now, being stuck in this mess.

Marcello came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Is everything okay?” he asked as he kissed my shoulder.

I took in his scent; it somehow calmed the storm in my mind. I turned, trying to find the courage to tell him the truth—the whole truth.