Chapter 6: The Words She Couldn’t Say

I noticed something else inside the folder.

Behind the signed papers, there were several loose sheets.

Blank at first glance.

I pulled them out, already irritated, ready to throw them away—

Then the handwriting stopped me.

Arabella’s.

Clean. Precise. Calm.

Just like her.

She had always been like that—no matter how bad things got, she never raised her voice. Never lost control.

Yet these pages were different.

The paper was punctured in several places, as if the pen had been pressed down too hard.

I stared at the first page for several seconds before finally reading it.

“I don't know when I stopped believing you.”

My fingers tightened around the paper.

The next line was written beneath it.

“Maybe it was the first time you came home smelling like someone else's perfume.”

My breathing stopped.

I remembered that night.

I had blamed it on one of the women at a business meeting.

Arabella had only smiled and said nothing.

Another page.

“Maybe it was when you started guarding your phone.”

Another.

“Maybe it was when Ava began looking at you like I was standing in her way.”

My stomach twisted.

She had seen everything.

Every lie.

Every stolen glance.

Every excuse.

And I had mistaken her silence for ignorance.

I kept reading.

“I wanted to ask you.”

“I wanted to believe you.”

“I wanted you to tell me I was imagining things.”

The words blurred in front of my eyes.

I wiped my face and realized my fingers were wet.

I was crying.

I hadn't even noticed.

Then I reached the next page.

“But every time I looked at you, I remembered the man who promised me forever.”

“And every time you lied, I lost another piece of him.”

I sat down heavily.

The chair creaked beneath me.

Arabella had never written these words to send to me.

She had written them because she had nowhere else to put the pain.

That realization hurt more than any accusation could have.

I turned the page.

“I don't hate Ava.”

I froze.

“I don't even know if I hate you.”

“What I hate is the woman I became while loving you.”

My throat tightened.

She had always been strong.

Independent.

Fearless.

But I had slowly turned her into someone who questioned her own worth.

I looked around the bedroom.

Her side of the closet was empty.

Her perfume was gone.

Her slippers were gone.

Even the little book she kept beside the bed had disappeared.

She had erased herself so carefully that I couldn't understand how I hadn't noticed.

Then I saw the final page.

It was shorter than the others.

Only three lines.

“Dominic, if you ever read this, don't look for me.”

My heart dropped.

The next line was even harder to read.

“I don't want revenge.”

And beneath it—

“I want peace.”

I crushed the paper in my fist.

“No.”

The word came out broken.

I stood abruptly and knocked the chair backward.

“No, Arabella.”

I called her number again.

Still nothing.

I called her assistant.

No answer.

Her friends.

Nothing.

Everyone had suddenly become unreachable.

Or perhaps they had simply respected her wishes.

I grabbed my coat and headed for the door.

One of my men stepped forward.

“Don, where are you going?”

“The airport.”

He hesitated.

“We already checked.”

“Then check again.”

He lowered his voice.

“If Mrs. Conti has already entered the United States, we may not be able to track her.”

I stopped.

The United States.

The country I could not enter.

The country where my wife had chosen to disappear.

For the first time, the family restrictions I had always considered an inconvenience felt like a wall built directly between us.

I turned toward my man.

“How long ago did she leave?”

“We believe she departed shortly after midnight.”

My chest tightened.

I remembered that night.

The anniversary dinner.

The fireworks.

The moment I left her alone because Ava called.

While I was comforting the woman I had betrayed my wife with, Arabella had been walking away from me forever.

I closed my eyes.

I could still hear her voice from that morning.

“It’s fine. Work comes first.”

She had known.

She had already known there was no future for us.

I returned to the bedroom and looked at the empty space beside mine.

For years, I had been terrified that Arabella would leave me.

Whenever she traveled, I called her constantly.

Whenever she was late, I sent someone to find her.

I had thought that was love.

Now I understood the difference.

Love was not being afraid someone might leave.

Love was giving them no reason to want to.

And I had given her every reason.

My phone suddenly rang.

I answered immediately.

“Speak.”

One of my men sounded uncertain.

“Don, we've confirmed something.”

“What?”

“Mrs. Conti's immigration application was approved before she departed.”

I gripped the phone tighter.

“And?”

“Her new residency information is protected. There is no public record we can access.”

I stared at the papers on the desk.

She had planned everything.

She hadn't simply escaped.

She had made sure I couldn't follow.

I lowered the phone slowly.

For the first time, I understood what Arabella had meant when she said she would wait for me to go crazy.

She hadn't wanted to punish me with anger.

She had punished me with absence.

And somehow, that was worse.

I picked up the final page again.

Her handwriting was calm.

Her decision was final.

I pressed the paper against my chest.

“Arabella…”

My voice broke.

“You wanted peace.”

I looked toward the window, where dawn was beginning to spread across the city.

“But I don't know how to live in a world where you're not in it.”

And for the first time, I was terrified that she had already learned how to live without me.