Nothing Waits Forever, Not Even Love

After I calmed down, the first thing I did was send the diagnosis report to Vincenzo.

If only to give our eight-year relationship some kind of closure.

I knew what Chloe and her brother meant to Vincenzo.

When Vincenzo was a child, his father was killed in a gang war, and his mother had a mental breakdown.

The neighboring Rossi family took Vincenzo in after he was orphaned.

Marco, a few years older, was the big brother he had trusted since childhood.

And Chloe was the little shadow who always trailed behind him.

Everyone assumed the future Don would marry his childhood sweetheart.

But during a firefight in a dark alley ten years ago, it was Marco who threw himself in front of a young Vincenzo.

A bullet meant for Vincenzo's heart had torn through Marco's lung instead.

After that, the Rossi family moved abroad and were gone for eight years.

I didn't know the exact reasons, only that it was for Marco to recover and to escape the violence of our world.

Until three months ago, when Chloe returned to New York with a dying Marco and came to Vincenzo for help.

And that was when Vincenzo started staying out all night.

When I asked, he was always at the hospital with Marco.

At first, out of respect for their brotherhood, and after learning the Rossi family had fallen on hard times, I used the De Luca family's foundation connections to find a lung specialist for Marco in Switzerland.

I truly believed that our eight years together were indestructible, that our relationship wouldn't crumble just because his old friend and childhood sweetheart had returned.

But gradually, I noticed my presence seemed to make both Vincenzo and Chloe uncomfortable.

It got to the point where Chloe would burst into pitiful tears whenever I appeared.

Later, Vincenzo forbade me from visiting. "Stay away from the hospital. Don't provoke them."

I didn't understand what was so wrong about a wife showing concern for her husband's savior.

But my upbringing kept me from making a scene like some girl from the streets.

I thought if I was just proper enough, just tolerant enough, he would come back to me once he had dealt with everything.

But the surgeon's scalpel last night had severed my last illusion.

Pulling myself together, I sent Vincenzo a text, attaching the diagnosis report for the ectopic pregnancy.

Meanwhile, in a private hospital room on the other side of Manhattan.

Vincenzo was staring at his phone screen, his brow furrowed.

I learned later that Chloe was nestled against his side at that moment and leaned in to look.

With just one glance, before Vincenzo could say a word, Chloe's eyes instantly reddened. Tears began to fall, one by one, as she spoke in a choked voice.

"I'm so sorry, Vincenzo… I never should have come back."

Her tears flowed freely. "The Donna must care about you so much… she's afraid I'll take her place. That's why she would make up such a… such a terrible lie. It's my fault. The very sight of me and my brother must offend her."

Vincenzo might have felt a flash of concern.

But then he considered it. Between the recent infighting in the Family and Marco's condition, he hadn't been home in three months, let alone touched me.

Three months apart. Where would a baby have come from?

He prided himself on knowing me, certain I would never betray him. This could only be a desperate play for his attention.

He stroked Chloe's hair, his voice exceptionally gentle.

"Silly girl, this has nothing to do with you."

"I've been too lenient with her. Now she doesn't even know where the line is."

Chloe threw herself into Vincenzo's arms, crying. "Thank you, Vincenzo. If it weren't for you, my brother and I would be dead."

Vincenzo patted her back, giving her his firmest reassurance.

After comforting Chloe for a while, Vincenzo finally found a moment to reply to my message.

[Elara, Marco doesn't have much time left. You know who he took that bullet for. As the Donna of the De Luca family, you should know better.]

[Stop cursing yourself with such vicious lies and stop trying to get sympathy over a child that doesn't exist. Once the funeral is over, I'll buy you that diamond you've always wanted. Stop making a scene.]

Eight years. I had stood by him through firefights and hails of bullets. I thought we were soulmates.

I once said that the only person in the world who truly understood me was Vincenzo.

It turned out that in his heart, I was just a crazy woman who would invent a miscarriage out of jealousy.

It doesn't take an army to break a person.

Just a constant stream of disappointments, until the last one finally extinguishes your hope.

I couldn't even feel anger anymore. Wiping my tears, I sent Vincenzo a one-word reply.

[Okay.]

Five days later, I checked myself out of the hospital.

I didn't contact Vincenzo. I just carried my small bag and, enduring the dull ache from my surgery, walked slowly out of the hospital building.

Just as I was about to call a car, a familiar black sedan pulled up in front of me.

The window rolled down, revealing Vincenzo's trusted driver. "The Don sent me as soon as he got the message from the capo. He said he'll be home after he takes care of some business and told me to take you back first."

I leaned against the bulletproof glass, watching the Manhattan streetscape recede.

His "business," I figured, still had to do with Marco and Chloe.

Back at the penthouse, I got a call from my lawyer.

"Good. Draft the agreement and send it over. Yes, the sooner the better."

Just as I said that and was about to hang up, the door's security system beeped.

Vincenzo walked in, wearing a black overcoat handmade by his Italian tailor. In his hand, he held a bouquet of my favorite lilies of the valley, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

"What agreement?"