3

CHARLOTTE

I woke up to the sound of hurried footsteps moving through the house and voices yelling in unison. Too disoriented to make sense of it, I struggled to block out the noise coming from the engines of trucks revving in the distance. Yawning and stretching my arms, I sat up, looking around the room with a confused expression.

My mind felt like a blank slate for a hot minute, delighted yet frightened at the prospect. But a few seconds later, the feeling dispersed as my brain started to recall the events of last night.

I sighed and smiled sadly. Life had taken a different turn, one I couldn’t deny I hadn’t foreseen as the days rolled by. I remembered the terms of the marriage that Rogerio and I had. We hadn’t started our relationship on the basis of love, but I could swear we were great friends.

When I fell in love with him, he never made it feel like it was an unrequited love. I felt safe and secure, like I had found someone who was ready to stick with me through thick and thin until he gained access to his inheritance. Slowly, the veil came off, and I saw him for who he truly was, but I was too invested in the union to walk away.

I wanted to make it work and build a life like the one I had seen my parents thrive in before their deaths. ‘If wishes were horses...’ I mumbled under my breath, stopping midway, and closing my eyes.

The clause didn’t fully apply to me, as I had lived a life of luxury and affluence, but it couldn’t compensate for the neglect I felt in my marriage to a Thuthai.

His family didn’t make it any better; they utilized whatever chance they got to remind me that I wasn’t worth being married to their son. Given the agreement with Rogerio, I couldn’t tell them that I was actually doing their family a favor by being there. It hurt like hell that he didn’t try to defend me, either.

But I had grown to love him, so none of that really mattered. I turned my head to the door as a knock pulled me out of my reverie. “Signora? Are you awake yet?”

“Yes, Maria. I’m surprised I slept a wink. Come in…” I answered and waited for her to open the door, then step into the room. As she made her way through the entrance, the commotion from the hallway caught my attention.

“What’s that?” I asked, and she smiled wistfully, then shut the door behind her.

“Just people... moving around. I think you should worry about yourself, especially after the night you’ve just had.”

I watched as Maria placed the tray on the table in the center of the room. “Maria, I appreciate your concern, but I believe I am capable of choosing what thoughts to dwell on. This doesn’t seem like a usual morning at the estate. Please update me on the current situation, or I will seek out the information myself.”

“Signora… I,” she started to say, then hesitated. She lowered her gaze and clasped her fingers behind her.

“Your silence is worse than the muffled sounds I hear outside my door. I am as curious as I am concerned, so speak up already.”

“Very well. It’s Signor Rogerio, he’s back…”

“He is?!” I clapped my hands excitedly. “See? I told you he’d be back. Now we only need a minute to ourselves, we could have breakfast together. Or lunch, whatever the time is,” I replied and jumped off the bed.

She opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. My gaze landed on the tray she had brought with her. “Is that my breakfast?”

“Yes,” she responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Great! Take it to the dining room, get a plate for my husband as well,” I answered, sprinting out of the room as I heard the sound of his voice in the distance.

“Signora, don’t,” she started to say, but I was already out of the room and I had shut the door behind me.

My excitement gave way to confusion as a strange man walked past me in the hallway, carrying two suitcases.

“Hey! Who are you and where are you taking those bags?” I asked, and he stopped in his tracks, looked at me with soulful eyes, and continued walking.

What is happening? I looked around the hallway. Everyone who walked past me had one thing in common: they were wearing a blue shirt and brown khaki pants, and they all carried one thing or another.

I looked at the walls and felt a knot in my stomach. The only pieces that were left hanging were the ones I had added to the collection; the walls felt bare and different in a way that made me start feeling like something had been taken from me. I followed the sound of Rogerio’s voice into the library and stopped at the door. He wasn’t alone; some other men were in the room with him.

Leaning against the doorframe, I watched them converse for a few minutes before locking gazes with one of the men: Paul Cohhen, the priest who officiated at our wedding.

My eyes moved back to Rogerio, who was standing with his back to the entrance, still wearing the same clothes he had on last night. He turned around and caught me staring at him. When our eyes met, I felt a chill wash over me from the icy glare he gave me.

“Leave us,” he said to the men, and they exited the room in a heartbeat. They seemed relieved to be out of there, and for some reason, I envied them. My mind had started to piece together bits of the puzzle, but a part of me remained in denial.

The other part of me wanted to turn around and run in the opposite direction to avoid whatever was coming. “Are you going to come in, or are you just going to stand there?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered, turning to look at the hallway. “What’s happening out there?”

“Oh, that? I’m moving. No, that’s not how to break it to you properly, I’m leaving, Charlotte. Forever.”

I turned to look at him as he placed his hands across his chest. “You can’t be serious,” I muttered, and he chuckled in response.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. You mean nothing to me; I don’t want to be here, and you’re being an asshole about signing the papers, so I’m leaving.”

“You don’t mean that, right?” I demanded and stepped into the room. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

“What? Leaving? Oh yes, I realize that you just woke up so it might take a little longer than usual to process things, but I’ll give you a quick update: the people you saw in the hallway? They’re movers. The trucks parked outside are here to take my things out of this wretched house.”

“No, not that. You don’t really mean it when you say I mean nothing to you. You’re just angry about something I’ve done, and I understand it. We can make this work, Rogerio; we could go to therapy, go on a vacation, or something. Anything but this, you don’t have to move out of your own house to prove a point.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if you were always this slow and I didn’t catch it in time or if you like to act obtuse on purpose. Let me clarify something for you: our marriage was an act of convenience. It was useful to meet our needs at the time, and it has run its course. I’m sick of it, and I’m sick of you.”

“Rogerio, I…”

“Shut up and let me finish. There’s nothing you can say or do that will change the events of things. I can’t throw you out of the estate; it became yours when we got married and even after the divorce, it’ll be yours. But I can leave, and that’s what I’m doing.”

He turned around and pointed to a black envelope on the table. “That’s a copy of the divorce papers. Try not to tear them up this time. Sign them. If you attempt to contact me without my lawyers present, I will file a restraining order against you or find something to press charges about. It’s your choice, this house or prison.” He added, picked up his suitcase, and left the room.