Three Years After I Took The Fall, The Don Begged Me Back

With both of them gone, I packed a few clothes, went downstairs to check out, and on my way back up I passed Room 311. The door was cracked open. I stopped.

Through the gap: Sophia's arms wrapped around Victor. "Why? We love each other. Why can't we be together?"

"Sixteen years old until now. You're the only man I've ever been with, Victor. If you'd leave Delora, we could still have this. Your family's position is solid now. You don't need her anymore."

Victor's brow was furrowed, but he didn't push her away.

"Sophia. I can't leave her. Delora has given up too much for us. I owe her."

"Her father can look after her. She doesn't need you!" Sophia's voice cracked. "You're lying. You've fallen for her, haven't you?"

A long silence from Victor. Then, quietly: "...It's just obligation. She's my wife."

Something in Sophia's face eased. "I knew it. You only love me." A breath. "If you can't give me marriage... can you at least give me a child?"

Victor's expression flickered with confusion. He started to say no, but Sophia kissed him before he could.

She pushed up onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his. At first he didn't respond. But as the kiss deepened, his breathing changed, his chest rising and falling faster, and then he pressed her down onto the bed. They clung to each other, utterly inseparable.

I wrapped my arms around myself. The trembling that had been running through me all day suddenly went still, like a long storm finally breaking. What I felt, standing there, was relief.

I'd been going to give Victor a graceful ending. I saw now that wasn't necessary. Our marriage had been a bad piece of theater from the start, and I didn't need to wait for the curtain.

I typed out a message on my phone: the truth behind Sophia’s assault, and the divorce papers. I sent them to Victor's number. When I heard his notification go off inside the room, I turned and walked away.

Victor. You didn't get a goodbye from me, because you didn't deserve one.