“Long day at work?” Alessia asked, her voice soft yet hopeful, as she placed Nicholas’ plate in front of him. The table was perfectly set, the candles flickering gently. She’d spent hours preparing his favorite meal, hoping tonight would be different.

But Nicholas didn’t even glance up. His phone was balanced against his plate, his fingers moving quickly across the screen. “Mm-hmm,” he murmured, barely acknowledging her presence.

Alessia sat across from him, smoothing the hem of her dress nervously. “I made roast lamb tonight,” she said, injecting as much cheer as she could muster. “With garlic potatoes. Just the way you like it.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered distractedly, his eyes never leaving the phone.

She tried not to let the sting show. It was always like this—Nicholas lost in his own world, leaving her stranded on the outside, knocking on a door that never opened.

A soft buzz interrupted the silence, and Nicholas’ lips curled into a small, almost invisible smile. Alessia’s heart twisted at the sight. When was the last time he’d smiled like that at her?

“Who’s that?” she asked cautiously, though she already knew.

“Ava,” Nicholas replied, his tone almost casual. “She’s just checking in.”

Checking in. That was one way to put it. Alessia’s gaze flicked to his phone, where a string of messages from Ava lit up the screen. The name alone was enough to make her stomach churn.

Ava. Nicholas’ first love. The woman who had walked away from him five years ago to marry another man, shattering him in the process. Alessia had been brought in to pick up the pieces, a convenient solution arranged by Nicholas’ mother. She had been nothing more than a balm for his broken heart, a placeholder bride to fulfill a debt and a duty.

She shouldn’t have fallen for him. She knew that now. But she had, and watching him light up for someone else—someone who had already hurt him once—was unbearable.

“Nicholas,” she said quietly, her voice trembling, “are you happy?”

That finally got his attention. He looked up, frowning slightly. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer me,” she pressed, her eyes searching his.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re overthinking again, Alessia. Everything’s fine.”

Fine. The word echoed in her mind like a cruel joke. Fine wasn’t enough. Not after five years of trying, of hoping, of loving a man who had never loved her back.

She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Nicholas barely noticed. His attention was already back on his phone, back on Ava.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, her voice tight.

“Okay,” he murmured, not even looking up.

Alessia left the dining room, her steps heavy with heartbreak. She had always known this moment would come, but she had never expected it to hurt this much.

An hour later, Alessia sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the suitcase open on the floor. Her clothes lay in neat piles around her, but she couldn’t bring herself to pack. Leaving Nicholas felt like ripping out a piece of her soul, but staying would only destroy her completely.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling her from her thoughts. She hesitated before picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Alessia, it’s Natalie.” Nicholas’ mother’s voice was sharp, businesslike, as always. “I heard you’ve been asking about a divorce. Is that true?”

Alessia’s grip on the phone tightened. “Yes.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a measured response. “I see. The contract expires next month anyway. If this is what you want, I won’t stop you.”

Alessia’s chest tightened. The contract. How could she forget? Five years ago, her father’s gambling debts had spiraled out of control, leaving her family at the mercy of the Costello mafia group. Natalie had come to her with a proposition: marry Nicholas and settle the debt, with the added condition that she heal his broken heart.

If she succeeded, their marriage would become real. If she failed, she would be free to leave.

“I’m sure,” Alessia said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.

“What do you want in return?” Natalie asked.

Alessia blinked, caught off guard. “In return?”

“Yes. You’ve fulfilled your end of the deal, Alessia. Name your price.”

For a moment, Alessia hesitated. Then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I want to leave. For good. I want to go to Paris, finish my art studies, and start over.”

Natalie hummed thoughtfully. “Done. I’ll have everything arranged by the end of the week.”

“That fast?” Alessia whispered, surprised.

“Consider it compensation for the last five years,” Natalie said briskly. “I’ll make sure Nicholas doesn’t interfere.”

Alessia bit her lip, a mix of relief and sadness washing over her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Natalie said sharply. “You did your part, Alessia. Now it’s time to live your life.”

The call ended, leaving Alessia in a strange, bittersweet silence.

“Breakfast is ready,” Alessia called, her voice steady as Nicholas shuffled into the kitchen.

He barely glanced at her, sliding into his chair with his phone in hand. Alessia set the bowl of steaming congee and pickled vegetables in front of him, careful to keep her expression neutral.

Nicholas frowned, pushing the bowl away with one finger. “What is this?”

“Breakfast,” Alessia replied evenly, placing a cup of tea beside his plate.

“This isn’t breakfast,” he snapped, his tone sharp. “Where are the eggs? The bacon? I’m not eating this.”

She met his gaze briefly, then turned back to the counter to pour herself a cup of tea. “I thought I’d try something different today.”

“Well, don’t,” he barked, standing abruptly. “You’re useless sometimes, you know that? I’ll just grab something on the way to work.”

Alessia stayed silent as the door slammed shut behind him. She sipped her tea, the bitterness of the drink mirroring the ache in her chest.

This had become their routine. Alessia had begun distancing herself days ago, mentally preparing for what she knew was inevitable. She stopped trying to please him, subtly changing her routines to reflect her decision to leave. She no longer tailored every meal to his tastes, no longer asked him about his day, and no longer cared if he noticed her silence.

He didn’t.

Later that day, Alessia lay curled up on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She’d muted Ava’s account long ago, but Instagram’s algorithm had other plans. There it was—Ava’s post.

The caption read: “Home-cooked meal for my love. Can’t wait for many more days like this!”

The photo showed a spread of perfectly plated dishes, and beside them, Nicholas smiled broadly, raising a glass in Ava’s direction. He looked happy—truly happy.

Alessia stared at the image, her chest tightening. He had never smiled like that for her. Not in five years. She’d given up everything—her art, her freedom, her dreams—only to be treated as a placeholder.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. The pain that had simmered for years boiled over into resolve. Enough was enough.

The faint sound of the front door opening pulled Alessia from her thoughts. Nicholas had finally returned home. She heard the familiar shuffle of his shoes being kicked off, followed by the low murmur of his voice—likely speaking to Ava again.

She didn’t rise to greet him. There was no point anymore. Instead, she sat at the dinner table, staring at the meal she had prepared. It wasn’t elaborate, just a simple pasta with roasted vegetables and garlic bread, but it was enough. This was her last dinner for Nicholas, and she hadn’t wasted any unnecessary effort on it.

Nicholas walked into the dining room, his phone in hand, a small smile on his lips. He didn’t look at her as he sat down, his thumb still moving across the screen. “What’s for dinner?” he asked absently, his attention fixed on his phone.

Alessia hesitated for a moment, watching him. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a real conversation. It had all blurred together—weeks of silence, cold exchanges, and the ever-present third person in their marriage: Ava.

It hadn’t always been this way, she thought. When she first married Nicholas five years ago, there had been a shred of hope. Not love, but the possibility of something resembling it. For a time, Alessia believed she could mend him. She threw herself into being the perfect wife—learning his preferences, cooking his favorite meals, always being there when he needed her. But it hadn’t mattered. Ava’s shadow loomed over everything, and when she came back, it was as if Alessia had never existed.

Nicholas chuckled softly at something on his phone, his smile brighter than she had seen in years. Alessia’s chest tightened, but she didn’t let it show. This was her moment.

“Nicholas,” she said, her voice firm but quiet.

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up, his eyes glued to the screen.

“I need you to sign something.”

That got his attention, but only briefly. He flicked a glance at her, his brows knitting together. “What is it?”

“Paperwork,” she said, sliding the folder across the table. “It’s for the banquet.”

Nicholas reached for it without hesitation, picking up the pen she had placed beside it. He didn’t bother to open the folder or glance at the contents. Instead, he scrawled his signature on the first page, then the second, his focus still divided as his phone buzzed with another message.

“There,” he said, sliding it back to her. “Anything else?”

Alessia stared at the signed pages, her heart pounding in her chest. It was done. After five years of being a placeholder in his life, she was finally free.

“No,” she said softly, standing and taking the folder with her.

“Good,” he muttered, already typing another reply. A small, amused smile played on his lips—undoubtedly something Ava had said.

Alessia turned to leave the room, her footsteps slow. She paused at the doorway, glancing back at him. He didn’t notice her lingering, his entire world reduced to the glowing screen in his hands.

For a moment, she considered saying something—anything to make him look at her, to force him to acknowledge her presence. But what was the point? She’d spent five years trying, and he’d chosen Ava every time.

“Goodbye, Nicholas,” she said instead, her voice steady.

“Mm-hmm,” he replied without looking up and truly understanding what she just said.

Alessia adjusted the silk tablecloth on the long dining table, her hands moving automatically as her mind drifted. The mafia banquet was days away, and the pressure of planning the event had been weighing on her shoulders. As Nicholas’ wife, these responsibilities had always fallen to her. It was another role she had taken on without complaint, another way to prove herself to a man who barely noticed her efforts.

The decision to leave had already been made, but Alessia wanted to finish this last task. She would fulfill her duties one final time, ensuring the event went smoothly before disappearing from Nicholas’ world.

When she arrived at the venue that afternoon, Alessia’s heart stopped. Standing in the middle of the grand ballroom was Ava, clipboard in hand, barking out instructions to the staff.

Alessia froze, watching as Ava pointed to the floral arrangements Alessia had chosen. “These won’t do. We need white roses, not lilies,” Ava said firmly, her tone carrying the authority of someone who belonged there.

Alessia forced herself to step forward, clearing her throat. Ava turned, her face lighting up with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Alessia! Nicholas told me you’d be here. Isn’t this venue stunning? He asked me to take care of everything for the banquet,” Ava said sweetly, her words slicing through Alessia like a blade.

Nicholas asked her? Alessia’s mind raced. She tried to maintain her composure, swallowing the sharp sting of humiliation.

“I see,” Alessia said quietly. She glanced around the room, noticing how seamlessly Ava had taken over. The staff, who had once looked to Alessia for direction, now stood attentive to Ava’s commands.

Ava leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Nicholas thought it would be less stressful for you if I handled it. You’ve been so busy lately, and he just wants to make sure you’re not overwhelmed.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Alessia nodded stiffly, refusing to let Ava see how deeply this cut her. “Of course,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her chest. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to it.”

Without waiting for a response, Alessia turned on her heel and walked out of the venue, her head held high even as her vision blurred with unshed tears. By the time she reached her car, her hands were trembling. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, letting out a shaky breath.

The message was clear: she no longer had a place in Nicholas’ life, not even in the small, hollow space she had carved out for herself.

When Alessia arrived home later that evening, her resolve to leave was stronger than ever. She was ready to let go of this life—of Nicholas, of the mafia, of everything that had tethered her to a man who couldn’t even see her.

As she stepped inside, the sight of suitcases by the door made her pause. Nicholas appeared from the living room, his phone in hand.

“Good, you’re back,” he said casually, as if the suitcases weren’t a shocking sight. “Ava’s moving in temporarily. Her house needs renovations, and it’s safer for her to stay here with the recent tensions.”

Alessia’s breath hitched. Her heart pounded in her chest. “She’s moving in?” she asked, her voice eerily calm.

Nicholas frowned at her reaction, his tone growing defensive. “It’s not a big deal, Alessia. She’ll only be here for a few weeks.”

For a moment, Alessia considered shouting, demanding answers, or making him choose between them. But what was the point? Nicholas had already made his choice.

Instead, she turned away, heading for the staircase. “Do whatever you want,” she said flatly.

Her indifference seemed to set Nicholas off. “What’s your problem?” he snapped, following her. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks. If something’s wrong, just say it.”

Alessia stopped halfway up the stairs and looked at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were tired, but her voice remained calm. “I’m just tired, Nicholas. That’s all.”

Before he could press further, a soft voice interrupted. “Maybe I should go,” Ava said, stepping into the hallway with an innocent expression that Alessia knew was anything but. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Alessia’s lips curled into a small, bitter smile. “No, it’s fine,” she said, her voice laced with feigned warmth. “Stay as long as you want, Ava. You’re obviously welcome here.”

Ava hesitated, her wide-eyed gaze darting between Alessia and Nicholas. “Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep.”

Alessia nodded. “You’re already here. Make yourself comfortable.”

With that, Alessia turned and ascended the stairs, leaving Nicholas and Ava behind. As she reached her bedroom, she shut the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding in her chest.