He Said He Didn't Love Me,So I Forged the Divorce

Raffaele Moretti and I grew up together. Childhood sweethearts, everyone called us. But he hated me.

On the day of our alliance ceremony, his clinic trainee Alessia Santoro pressed half a bottle of liquor into his hands, and he drank it down. Then, in front of every single guest, he announced that he didn't love me.

The next morning, Raffaele sobered up.

His explanation was flat, almost bored:

"I was drunk last night. Don't take it seriously."

"Alessia's young. She likes to stir things up. She didn't mean any harm."

Raffaele turned toward the window, staring out at the empty morning streets. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Beyond the glass, the Moretti estate grounds stretched silent and gray, two soldiers doing their morning walk along the perimeter wall.

"Even if she did have some kind of intention, I'd never let her ruin our marriage. You can relax."

I stood behind him, silent, and slipped my wedding ring back into its box.

Raffaele didn't know yet.

Our church papers were forged. The Commission had never ratified the union. The whole marriage was void.

And I'd already booked a flight out of old Moretti territory.

——

The first morning of our so-called marriage, Raffaele still woke at five.

Still put on a black dress shirt, buttoned all the way to the collar.

After those two sentences of explanation, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

"There's an emergency at the clinic."

"Alessia can't handle it alone. I need to go help her."

Any other time, I would have found a way to stop him. Would have demanded to know why, out of every physician on the Moretti payroll, Alessia couldn't call someone else instead of the man on his honeymoon.

But today I just nodded and said okay.

Raffaele's hand paused on the door handle. He turned, as if he wanted to say something.

His phone rang.

Alessia's voice came through, panicked and tearful.

"Dr. Moretti, the patient is threatening to file a complaint. What do I do..."

And just like that, Raffaele left without another word to me.

I finished my last bite of fried egg, slow and unhurried. The kitchen was cold. Somewhere down the hall a grandfather clock marked the quarter hour, the sound too loud in the empty house.

This had happened so many times over the years that I'd stopped keeping count.

Ever since Alessia appeared, Raffaele had changed, piece by piece.

He used to stop me from eating a single potato chip because it wasn't nutritious enough. Now he cooked street food himself, packed it into the insulated lunch box I'd given him, and drove it to the clinic for Alessia during her shifts.

He took her to night markets. Went to the movies with her. Smoothed over every obstacle in her training and her studies, promised her a future free of hardship.

He even worried that she couldn't afford basic necessities on her family's income, so he personally bought her everything from clothes to shoes to toiletries. Down to her sanitary pads.

My twenty-fifth birthday party.

My parents had invited every respected family in old Moretti territory. The Capos, the associates, the wives who kept the social order running. They were going to announce our engagement.

But Raffaele walked out the moment Alessia called, without a backward glance.

Left me standing there, the biggest joke in the entire territory.

Last Christmas Eve, at the Moretti family dinner. Donna Moretti had set the long table herself. Silver, candles, the good wine.

Raffaele lied to his mother, told her I'd been in a car accident. Then used me as his excuse to leave so he could drive halfway across the city to buy Alessia a breakfast wrap from the one shop she liked.

I fought with him about it so many times. Told him to keep his distance from Alessia.

Every time, he'd press his thumb beneath the strap of his watch with that exhausted look and say,

"Alessia is my trainee. I'm just looking after her."

"You wanted this marriage. I gave it to you. What more do you want?"

One sentence. That was all it took to shove every grievance back down my throat.

The whole territory knew I'd been in love with Raffaele Moretti for years. The whole territory also knew he'd despised me for just as long.

So what should have been a straightforward alliance between two families became charity. A favor the Morettis bestowed on me.

I thought I could keep lying to myself forever.

Until this time, at the ceremony I'd spent two months pouring my heart into planning. The church had been booked, the Commission notified, the guest list a map of every alliance the Valente and Moretti names could claim.

Alessia walked up with red-rimmed eyes and held out a full bottle of liquor.

"Just this once. One last time. You can't even do that for me, Dr. Moretti?"