How Could I Bear You Sad

"March!" A furious shout pierced the air behind me.

I turned and saw Matteo storming toward me. Only then did I realize I had just unwittingly become part of a staged performance—one I hadn’t even initiated. I hadn’t touched Sandra.

“Why are you here?” Matteo demanded.

Inwardly, I scoffed. Wasn’t it you who claimed you were too drunk and asked me to pick you up?

Matteo pushed past me, his attention entirely focused on helping Sandra up from the ground. His dark eyes were clouded with displeasure as they flicked back to me. “Why are you picking fights with a girl like her?”

“Mr. Mendez, Ms. Argento didn’t push me. I just lost my balance,” Sandra said softly, her voice dripping with false humility.

Once, I had believed Sandra to be a meek and well-behaved girl. Now, all I saw was the insincerity behind her sweet facade.

Matteo pulled out a cartoon-themed band-aid from his pocket and carefully pressed it onto Sandra’s palm. His voice was gentle as he instructed, “Try not to let it get wet for a few days.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mendez,” Sandra murmured, her gaze full of gratitude.

I watched in silence, my eyes fixed on the cartoon band-aid. Once, that simple act of care had been mine alone. Now, memory and reality collided painfully, leaving me adrift.

I remembered our first encounter on the grapevine path at Milan University’s School of Economics and Management. A girl had confessed her feelings to him, but he had rejected her by pointing to me and saying, “It’s her I like.”

He hadn’t been lying.

For me, it was love at first sight.

After that, Matteo found every excuse to be near me—inviting me out for meals, helping me with studies, waiting outside the café where I worked part-time just to walk me back to my dorm. One evening, I teased him, “Is your finance program really this laid-back?”

Matteo had looked at me seriously. “March, are you that slow to catch on? I’m chasing you.”

We became a couple soon after. He begged me to move in with him, promising earnestly, “I’ll cherish you for the rest of my life.”

Three days after we moved into our apartment in the elite Centrale area of Milan, Matteo had the entire second floor covered in plush carpet because I liked walking barefoot. He never wanted me to feel the cold.

In the early days, he was always busy with business, often compressing week-long trips into five days so he could rush back and watch the first snowfall of the year with me in Rome City. Even our arguments never lasted long—he would extend his stay during my business trips just to make amends.

I had truly believed Matteo loved me.

But everything changed once the Argento Family acknowledged me. Though my family didn’t hold the same status as the Mendez Family, we were still wealthy and respected. Somehow, that recognition twisted Matteo’s feelings.

He began to despise me, yet refused to let me go. Instead, he kept me around as a tool to manage his affairs and mistresses. When I finally snapped and suggested separation, his response was cold and dismissive. “Don’t even think about it.”

By then, I couldn’t just walk away. I still couldn’t understand how someone’s heart could change so drastically and so suddenly.

And now, here I was, accompanying him as he escorted Sandra home. I watched helplessly as he sent her upstairs with care, only to return with me to Centrale.

The moment we stepped inside, Matteo cornered me against the wall. His touch was a mix of roughness and longing and his kisses came fast and suffocating, leaving no room for words—or escape.