Page 32 of The Bonus

“My heritage is very important to me. It is expected that I deliver a strong bloodline; my children’s first language to be Italian.” He thinks for a moment before adding, “I need an Italian wife.”

I step back from him, the sting from his words cuts like a knife.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I…” He pauses. “There is no excuse for my selfishness last night.”

“It’s the twenty-first century, Gabriel. Why would you think that you need to marry an Italian?” I snap as my anger rears her ugly head.

“Because I want to, Grace,” he snaps. “Because I want to.”

His silhouette blurs.

“So…last night…” I screw up my face in tears. “Meant nothing?”

“It meant everything,” he whispers, his nostrils flare. “It was a gift that we gave to ourselves. One that I will hold dear forever.” He pushes the hair back from my forehead. “You will never be forgotten.”

And I feel it coming, the pain, like a tidal wave, as my heart shatters into a million pieces. I turn and march up the hall to the bedroom. I rush into the bathroom and see my clothes folded neatly on the chair, and I put my hands over my mouth and sob. When he folded these…he knew.

He knew that we never stood a chance, all along. He knew.

I thought resigning had given us a solution to our problem, but I had no idea what was really going on in his head.

He doesn’t care at all, he never did.

My god.

I’m such a lovesick fool.

I just need to get the hell away from him.

I throw on my dress and shoes and rattle through my handbag for a pair of sunglasses. I put them on and walk back out.

His eyes hold mine. “Gracie…” he whispers as he reaches for me.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I whisper. I march to the elevator and push the button.

He stands quietly behind me, unsure if I’m about to take a swing at him.

The elevator doors open and we ride to the basement in silence.

With my dark glasses on he can’t see my tears, but the lump in my throat hurts so bad as I try to hold them in.

Once in the basement parking lot, he strides in front, and I follow him as pieces of my heart drop onto the concrete like confetti.

He gets to a black fancy car and the lights flash twice as he pushes the button. I don’t even know what kind of car it is, only that it’s cold.

Like him.

We drive to my place in silence, and I pray to god that he’s going to change his mind once we get there.

How could he not, we are meant to be together.

He pulls the car to the curb outside my building, and we sit in silence. “Gracie…” he whispers. “Don’t hate me.”

I close my eyes, verging on a full meltdown. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

“Goodbye,” he whispers.

I can’t even see him through the tears, but I know I need to get the hell out of this car before I start to beg for his love.

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