I’m Not His White Rose Anymore Chapter 17
That night, Lorenzo had a dream.
He dreamed that every time he came home, the little woman would have hot water and a warm meal ready for him.
She seemed to have a special ability to always know when he would be home, to always know what he needed most.
He also dreamed that every time he returned from a near-death experience, victorious and honored, there would always be a light on at home, lighting his way.
Whenever he faced hardship, just the thought of that table full of food, of that single, not-so-bright lamp, and the person waiting for him under its glow, would fill him with an infinite strength, helping him overcome danger time and time again.
Every time he came home, the thing he looked forward to most was opening the door and seeing that little woman with her peaceful, calm face, softly saying, “You’re back.”
It was as if just hearing those words, just seeing her, made all his sacrifices and bloodshed worthwhile.
He was fighting to protect her, and people like her, willingly heading into danger.
But he also knew that in this life, he had wronged her the most.
He wanted to retire early, to let go of all his responsibilities and go back to make it up to her.
But he never expected that what awaited him was:
“Lorenzo, let’s get a divorce.”
She had been trapped in the Moretti family for over twenty years. There were already wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and streaks of white in her hair.
She seemed to have finally grown tired of it all.
She wanted a divorce, not even giving him a chance to make amends.
His breath caught in his chest, a heavy pressure crushing him…
