How Could I Bear You Sad

My body still responded to him, every nerve awakened and sensitive. Entangled breaths filled the room, but once the passion ebbed, a familiar emptiness began creeping in.

Matteo stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a cigarette between his fingers. Still caught in the remnants of our intimacy, I asked tentatively, “So, Sandra couldn’t satisfy you?”

He paused mid-drag, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “She’s too well-behaved to give up.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he just couldn’t let her go.

His words were like a punch to the gut, each syllable plunging me deeper into a cold abyss. I stood there, stunned and empty, as Matteo dressed quickly. Without sparing me another glance, he walked out the door. The click of it closing resonated like a gavel. Moments later, the distant roar of his car's engine signaled his departure.

Before tonight, part of me still held onto hope, clinging to the fragments of our past. But now? I realized Matteo’s father had been right all along: when love is gone, why hold on to something rotten?

With trembling fingers, I picked up my phone and dialed. When the line connected, I spoke calmly, “I accept. I’ll divorce Matteo.”

I set the phone down, surprised by the weight that lifted from my chest. This was not the life I wanted—a marriage built on deceit and mockery. I craved a life that moved forward, one with a clear heart and unshackled freedom.

The next day, I went to the Mendez Group offices, my mind clear and resolute. As I approached the entrance, I overheard whispers from the secretaries’ office.

“Have you noticed how Mr. Mendez treats her differently? The project Ms. Argento was managing is nearly complete and yet it’s being handed to the new girl. Isn’t that giving away credit for free?”

“Why else? The boss obviously likes her.”

“I know! But poor Ms. Argento… I always rooted for her and Mr. Mendez.”

“Typical. The new girl gets all the smiles while the old ones are left with tears.”

The chatter abruptly halted when they noticed me. One of them, clearly uncomfortable, greeted me weakly, “Good morning, Ms. Argento.”

“Good morning,” I replied evenly.

My marriage to Matteo had never been publicly acknowledged; the Mendez Family had refused to recognize it. There had been no wedding ceremony, no fanfare. Even after joining the Mendez Group, I had kept our relationship under wraps to avoid rumors. In hindsight, I realized how fortunate it was that it never became public gossip. Now, my private anguish remained just that—private.

Settling at my desk, I noticed the project folder was gone from its usual place. The workstation opposite mine was also conspicuously empty. I asked, “Is Sandra not here today?”

A coworker replied, “She’s with Mr. Mendez.”

My eyes drifted to Matteo’s office. The blinds were closed tightly, but muted laughter seeped through. I recalled when Sandra first joined. With her warm smile and slight resemblance to me, she had been treated generously, even welcomed as an alum from the same university. In retrospect, it all seemed like a cruel irony.

Determined not to dwell on it, I focused on wrapping up my work. Since I was leaving both my marriage and this job, there was no point in lingering any longer than necessary. I began organizing and documenting my current projects for a smooth handover.

Then, the phone on my desk buzzed. Matteo’s voice came through, commanding as ever. “Come to my office.”

When I entered, the sight before me was almost laughable. Sandra sat at Matteo’s computer and he leaned over her shoulder, their hands almost touching on the mouse.

“Oh no, Mr. Mendez! I accidentally deleted everything!” Sandra exclaimed, feigning distress.

“Don’t worry,” Matteo replied smoothly. “I’ll help you.”

The scene was painfully familiar—a spectacle of calculated naivety and indulgence, like watching an old script play out once more.