No Longer Mrs. Vincenzo Chapter 08
I got exactly what I wanted. I joined the best photography studio in Paris, and the director, Claudia, dropped a mountain of client orders on my desk.
“Ayana, these clients saw your portfolio and they’re all fighting to book you.”
“Especially this model. Tons of photographers have tried to work with her, but she only wants you.”
I smiled and took the orders, asking my assistant to schedule all the shoot dates.
My sister Greer sent me the final divorce decree. She said Lorenzo only wanted me to be happy.
The commissions kept pouring in. Every time I released a new set of images, they dominated the fashion pages!
Within three months, I had cemented my position as the studio’s chief photographer. My booking calendar was full for the next three years.
The day I went on maternity leave, Claudia showed up at my door with a trunk full of nutritional supplements and baby supplies.
“Ayana, congratulations.”
She hesitated. I stroked my son Matteo’s little hand and smiled at her.
“Just say what you need to say. My baby needs his nap.”
Claudia placed a share transfer agreement in front of me.
“Ayana, I know a lot of companies are trying to poach you. I’m offering you thirty percent of the studio. No money required.”
“All I ask is that you stay.”
I picked up the pen and signed without a second thought.
Claudia looked surprised. “I thought you’d need some time to think it over.”
I laughed. “You believed in me when no one else did. And I love the culture here. No more thinking needed. Partners?”
After my maternity leave ended, Claudia and I split the work. I focused on creative direction and shooting. She handled operations and business.
We landed exclusive contracts with multiple top-tier international fashion houses. We expanded our studio’s footprint across all of Europe.
Later, we started hosting professional photography competitions, giving aspiring photographers a platform to shine.
I thought I would never see Lorenzo again.
“Ayana!”
That voice. I knew it before I even turned around.
I looked back. There he was, wearing a badge for the photography competition.
Three years had passed. The man who once stood on the operating table, the star surgeon everyone at St. Vincent’s
looked up to, now held an old camera in his hands. His eyes were lined with exhaustion.
Looking at him, I felt nothing. No surge of emotion. No ache.
I think I had stopped loving him a long time ago.
But Lorenzo couldn’t take his eyes off me.
“After you left, I learned photography. I wanted to understand the things you loved. I couldn’t let you go.”
“Ayana, I used to think I gave you the best life possible. That you should be grateful.”
His voice cracked. His eyes reddened.
“I thought you would never leave me.”
“I thought no matter where I went, no matter who I chose, you would always be there waiting.”
“But I was wrong. I lost the one person who truly loved me.”
“I’m sorry. I almost killed our child.”
“If I could go back, I would never leave you alone again.”
In all those sleepless nights, I had imagined him holding me, saying those words. But now that I actually heard them, my heart didn’t stir.
“Lorenzo.”
I said his name softly. His eyes lit up with fragile hope.
“If you only learn to value something after losing it, then that realization means nothing.”
I didn’t expect what he did next. He dropped to his knees right in front of me.
“Ayana, please. Give me one chance to atone. I’m not asking to be with you. I just want to fulfill every wish you have.”
“Please don’t shut me out of your world completely.”
I looked down at him, calm and steady. “Lorenzo, my only wish right now is to never see you again.”
He stared at me, dazed. “Really… not even a single chance?”
I shook my head. “Lorenzo, we ended a long time ago.”
A tiny voice piped up from behind me.
“Mommy!”
My son Matteo toddled over on his little legs and wrapped his arms around mine. He looked up at Lorenzo with curious eyes.
“Mommy, who is this man?”
