Page 89 of Forever Fake

Then she can make up her own mind about whether or not she wants to be together. It will be a new start. A clean slate.

Pulling out my laptop, I set my thoughts down in an email. This is the most selfless thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’m setting her wishes above my own. Giving her a choice when all I really want to do is sweep her into my arms, kiss her breathless, and never let her go again. In fact, what I’m about to do goes against every fiber of my being, every impulse I have. But Gindeserves a better version of me than the one she’s experienced so far.

This is it. This is selfless, caring Blake Baron. A new me.

He’s a fucking mess, but he better know what he’s doing. If he fucks this up for me, I’ll kill him.

CHAPTER 40

Ginevra

“What the fuck?” I say way too loudly, earning myself glares from the other first class passengers. “Sorry.” But seriously, what the actual fuck?

I scroll through Blake’s email, the first contact I’ve had from him in a month, reading and re-reading it again.

He’s divorcing me via email?

In equal parts, I want to scream and cry. I also want to throw my phone across the plane, but that would only get me more unwanted attention. I don’t need to be escorted off this flight in handcuffs once we land.

BlakefuckingBaron is breaking up with me via email! I know he’s an emotionless, insensitive prick, but this is a new low, even for him. I mean, I thought that I saw a deeper side of him, one that did care, that could feel, one that someday might fall in love with me.

I was so wrong.

I had my doubts about how much he cared for me, but this… this shows me that everything I thought we had was one-sided. I gave my heart to a man who can never, ever love me in return.

My gaze skims the email one last time.

Outrage boils my blood. I have to turn off my phone before I do something stupid like email him back, or worse, text him my thoughts. I practically handed him his freedom from Yve and the first thing he does is divorce me? Wow. Apparently, he can’t wait to get away from me and start his new life.

To think I missed him so damn much these past four weeks. By the time we got back to Parma, I couldn’t wait to return to New York and see him. To rekindle our connection and see if he wanted to move to Italy together. I’ve fallen in love with the country and told Elena that someday I want to live there, maybe someday soon.

I came back because Blake and I need to talk, to clear the air, so everything might be all right. As much as I didn’t want to, I forgave him for hurting me somewhere between Naples and Rome. I was being selfish. Of course Blake should put his family first. That’s normal, right? Healthy even?

The entire situation just shows how messed up and naive I am about healthy family dynamics. Who am I to demand the number one spot in his considerations? I’m only his wife.

Well, not anymore. Soon I’ll be the ex-Mrs. Baron.

How was I so wrong about everything? I thought he at least cared about me a little. Maybe I was blinded by my own infatuation. By my own unrequited love for him.

Has he been happy, relieved to have me out of his life this entire time I spent in Italy? Is that why he never contacted me?

I guess this answers all of my questions. We have nothing to say to each other. If he wants a divorce, I’ll sign the papers and set him free. I’m going to say goodbye to my family, then move to Italy—alone.

When the plane lands at LaGuardia, I disembark with my carry-on, grab a cab and check into The Langham instead of staying with my parents. After I settle in, I book my return flight to Italy, since I now know I won’t be here long. Five days isenough time to say my farewells, get my affairs in order, and leave all of this behind.

As soon as I’m back in Italy I’ll have to figure out how to get my feet under me. I don’t have any money of my own, or a job, or any experience to get work.

I was brought up to be a rich man’s wife, and that’s turned out to bite me in the ass. But for once, I have faith in myself. I’ll figure out my life or die trying. Now that I think about it, I probably can try for a job at a restaurant. Maybe. I’ll have to look deeper into the requirements.

With a sigh, I flop down on the pillow top mattress and decide it’s time to text Blake. Whatever he wants, that’s what I’ll give him.

CHAPTER 41

Blake

“Idon’t understand,” I slur, leaning heavily against an irritated Roman. We’re atLeonidasand he’s been listening to me rant for the past fifteen minutes, or half hour. I don’t know how long we’ve been here, but my head buzzes and my thoughts blur together.

“I am well aware that you don’t understand, Baron, because if you did you wouldn’t be here getting trashed.” He sips his two decade old Macallan. “I warned you about getting involved with Ginevra. Actually, I specifically recall telling you that Iwouldn’tbe there to pick up the pieces when it all went to shit. I’m usually true to my word.”

---