“Please, Alex,” she heard herself say in a small voice. “Whatever the problem is, we can work through this. We have to stay together—”
His dark eyes looked through her as if she were a stranger. “I cannot be what you need me to be.”
“Just try.” Rosalie felt like the lights and shadows of the study were spinning around her in a whirl. She felt like she was drowning in tears. “We can go to counseling. We can—”
“No.”
“People can change. Just look at what I’m doing now. The thing I’m scared of most. I’m going home.”
“Yes. You are.” His voice was hard, yielding nothing.
“Please don’t make me do this alone,” she said, and she didn’t just mean her trip to California. “Come with us.”
He drew back, clenching his hands. Then he shook his head. “You’re better off without me.”
Rosalie didn’t want a divorce. As unhappy as she’d been lately, giving up on her marriage was the last thing she wanted to do.
But neither could she be the way Alex had been, when he’d coldly refused to set his first wife free. If Alex wanted this divorce—so much he was willing to sacrifice his honor and the sanctity of his promise—then Rosalie had no choice but to give him what he wanted.
But oh—she thought it would kill her.
Because she didn’t want to face reality. She wanted to hope. She wanted to believe.
She wanted him to love her.
Standing in the shadows of the study, with her arms folded tight around her body as if she could somehow protect her heart, she gave a tearful laugh. Love her? Alex thought so little of her that he was willing to break his word for the first time in his adult life, just to get out of their marriage!
If even he couldn’t keep his marriage vows, then there was nothing left for her to hope for. It was over.
“All right,” Rosalie whispered.
At those two words, Alex looked away, his jaw tight.
Tears streamed down her face as she gazed at her husband for the last time. She said thickly, “I would have stayed married to you forever.”
“I know,” Alex whispered. Taking a deep breath, he cupped her cheek. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE MOMENT THE DOOR closed behind Rosalie and his son, the villa went silent. More silent than any house had ever been.
Alex hadn’t been able to watch her pack their suitcases. An hour later, his driver took her and the baby away, off to the airport near Venice where his private jet waited.
It was deadly quiet. To celebrate the end of harvest, he’d given his house staff the day off. He went to his study, the last place he’d spoken to Rosalie. He pretended to write emails and read business reports. But he understood nothing he read. His mind was with his wife, replaying the scene over and over, remembering her expression when he’d asked for a divorce.
Now she was gone. Both Rosalie, and his son.
Alex was alone.
He paced the hallways. The villa had never felt so empty before. This place had always been his home. But now, it felt more haunted and desolate than the palazzo in Venice.
Perhaps he should go there, he thought. At least in Venice, he wouldn’t hear the echo of his wife’s laughter, or his child’s babbles. But as he started walking toward the door, he stopped.
No. He had memories of her at the palazzo, as well. It was where they’d first met. Where they’d gotten to know each other. Where he’d first made love to her on their wedding night. No. He couldn’t possibly go there, either. His hands clenched at his sides.
Then where?
He should contact his lawyer. Order him to start divorce proceedings. Alex would make sure that Rosalie and his son never wanted for anything, ever. He would give her far more than the prenuptial agreement required. He’d give her half of everything he possessed.