No Longer Mrs. Vincenzo Chapter 02
Author: Mary Johnson
It was past midnight when I heard the clatter of keys at the front door.
Lorenzo pushed it open. Elara was right beside him.
She was smiling, chattering away about something that happened at the hospital. Lorenzo listened, nodding along.
I watched them stand there side by side, like a married couple. My heart twisted like someone had driven a needle straight through it.
I used to love sharing little things from my day with Lorenzo too. But every time, he would just rub his temples.
“Ayana, I’m exhausted from work. You can tell your sister about this stuff.”
I thought he just didn’t like hearing about everyday things. Turns out, he just didn’t like hearing them from me.
Elara spotted me on the couch. She walked in and handed me a takeout bag.
“Ayana, I’m so jealous of you.”
“He was already so tired after surgery, but Lorenzo still stood in line for two hours to get you this porcini ragù pasta.”
“I really envy you. I wish someone loved me like that.”
I glanced at the cold pasta. Two hours in line. For me.
Except I knew that wasn’t the whole truth.
If he really loved me, how could he forget our anniversary?
I knocked the pasta out of her hand. It hit the floor with a dull thud. “Whether he loves me or not is none of your business.”
Elara’s eyes went red in an instant. Her voice wobbled. “Ayana, don’t misunderstand. I didn’t mean anything by it…”
Lorenzo pulled her behind him in one quick motion. His voice carried a sharp edge.
“I asked her to come. She lost her keys. Was she supposed to sleep at the hospital alone? There was no need for that attitude. None of it was aimed at her.”
The pasta lay limp and cold on the floor. Suddenly, I felt so, so tired.
Lorenzo’s excuses were so polished. So flawless. I didn’t even have the energy to argue anymore.
I turned and walked toward the master bedroom. But he caught my wrist.
“Apologize to Elara. What you said embarrassed her.”
I looked back. Elara was shaking, sobbing into her hands. I pulled my arm free and let out a cold laugh.
“She’s your junior, that’s all. Does it have anything to do with her whether you love me or not?”
Something flickered in Lorenzo’s eyes. Panic, maybe. But I didn’t look back.
His voice came from behind me, barely contained anger beneath the surface.
“Ayana. If you don’t apologize, I’m not coming to bed tonight.”
I didn’t stop walking. I went into the bedroom, locked the door, and printed out the divorce papers.
All night. The door never knocked.
I dug out my old photography equipment and packed it into a suitcase. A dull ache spread through my chest.
All these years, everything I owned fit into one bag.
A message came in from the studio in Paris. A photo of a beautifully decorated workstation.
[Ayana, we’re all waiting for you.]
They had seen my talent. They had reached out so many times. I turned them down every single time. For Lorenzo.
Not anymore. I wasn’t giving up my career again.
I replied with one word: [Yes.] Then I fell asleep.
When I woke up, Lorenzo was gone.
I grabbed the divorce papers and drove to St. Vincent’s.
But the moment I opened the door to Lorenzo’s office, Elara blocked my way.
