Page 31 of The Sicilian Billionaire's Neglected Wife
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ANOTHER DAY PASSES. And it’s another day where I don’t hear from him.At all.
But because I believe with all my heart when Shayla said God wanted me to wait...
I accept the other woman’s invitation to volunteer at her office, which occupies a converted storefront near the port. It’s a small space, crowded with filing cabinets and mismatched furniture, but it’s also reassuringly far from the glittering towers where billionaires play.
I still mean to wait, but for now, the distance helps ground me while the hustle ofpro bonowork keeps the tears at bay. There’s always so much to do even with all the boundless energy that the volunteers display. It took me a moment to figure out how I can best help, but where I’m needed gradually becomes clear. It’s all those little things that people overlook or didn’t think to assign. Filing documents. Making coffee. Or even just the simple act of greeting walk-ins and letting them know that they, too, like me, are now safe.
By lunch, I’ve almost forgotten that my life is in ruins.
Almost.
Until I see one of the volunteers accidentally leaving their tablet on the reception desk.
Oh no!
I grab hold of it, knowing that Tommy would have need of his tablet for his field work, and that’s when the screen lights up, and I find myself staring at the photo of my husband, post-training, and looking like a Greek god with his sleek muscles, tousled dark hair, and intense gaze.
“CANNIZZARO DOMINATES TESTING AHEAD OF MONACO GP” screams the headline. Below, a photo of him surrounded by team members, a blonde in team colors hanging on his every word.
He looks...good.
Actually, he looks better than good.
He looks like someone who’s at the top of his game...rather than someone whose ten-year marriage has recently come to its end.
I catch my reflection in the tablet screen. Hollow eyes, borrowed clothes that don’t quite fit, hair I haven’t styled in two days.
He’s thriving while I’m drowning. I’m falling apart while he’s soaring higher and higher. And I guess...I guess that says it all, doesn’t it?
Someone grabs the tablet out of my hand, and I only realize it’s Shayla when I hear her call out,“Tommy, you forgot your tablet!”
The younger man comes back with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
I wait until Tommy’s gone again before turning to Shayla. “I didn’t mean to look him up.”
“It’s not wrong if you want to know how your husband is doing.”
“Even if he clearly doesn’t care how I’m doing?”
“I know it may seem that way, but we can’t think that way if we’re not a hundred percent sure.”
I know she has a point, but...
“You saw his photo,” I choke out, “and now look at me and tell me what you see.”
“Oh, Sienah.”
Why, oh why do I always feel like crying every time she says my name like that?
“All I see is one who’s wearing her heart on her sleeve, and another who has yet to really look at his.”
God, oh God.
I remember David’s prayer out of the blue, and oh, I get it now, I really do.
How long, Aivan?
