Lena gently pulled Vincenzo back, her voice soft as silk. “It’s okay, Vincenzo. Let it go. If it belongs to Gabriel, Noel shouldn’t touch it.”
Vincenzo gave a short, mocking laugh.
“This is my house. I decide what happens here.”
I bent down, picked up the urn, and held it against my chest so tightly it hurt to breathe. Then I turned and walked away without another word.
Behind me, I heard him scoff. I heard the judgment in it. I heard how small I’d become in his world.
And then—like I was nothing more than an inconvenience—he escorted Lena and Noel out as though they were honored guests leaving a banquet.
That night, the mansion was too quiet.
I sat alone in the bedroom Vincenzo no longer shared and packed my things in silence. My hands shook the entire time. I filled out the divorce papers one page after another, forcing my fingers to obey me. Gabriel’s urn sat beside me on the bed the whole time, like he was still keeping me company.
I didn’t sleep. I just waited for morning.
**
That night, I dreamed of Gabriel again.