The Day My Husband Didn’t Answer Ended Me

When I woke up, everything looked too bright, too clean. For a second I honestly thought maybe I'd died.

Then I saw him.

Nico sat in the chair beside my bed, elbows on his knees, rubbing his face like he was the victim here. Like he was exhausted from my suffering.

"You're finally up. You've been out for two days."

I just stared at him, feeling nothing.

He let out a sigh like he was the one carrying the weight. "Look… things got out of hand. I didn't think the blood thing would hit you that hard. I just panicked. Serafina needed help, and I couldn't let anything happen to her."

I kept my face empty.

"I know I haven't been the best husband lately. I've… had a lot on my plate, and I guess I forgot about us. I even missed our anniversary." He made a small, self-pitying laugh. "But I want to fix that."

He reached down and placed a paper bag on my lap like it was some grand gesture.

"There's a dress inside. Something nice. When you're discharged, my driver will bring you to dinner. Your favorite place."

I just stared at the bag. It felt like looking at trash.

He forced a smile.

"Come on, Bianca. Try to look good again, okay? I'm giving you another chance to fix things with me."

He leaned down, kissed my forehead like he owned me, and walked out.

The second the door closed, the room went silent again. The hum of the private clinic's ventilation was the only sound. Somewhere down the corridor, one of the soldiers posted outside my door shifted his weight, the leather of his holster creaking faintly.

I grabbed my phone with shaky fingers. A new message lit the screen.

Dominic: Boarding my jet now. I'll be there tonight. Be ready.

My heart lurched. My hands almost dropped the phone.

Before I could lock it, Nico suddenly walked back in.

"Who texted you?" he asked sharply. "Let me see."

I hid the phone behind my back. "No."

His face darkened instantly, that ugly narcissistic anger twisting his features. His right fist clenched at his side, then unclenched, then clenched again. "Bianca. Don't get stupid with me. Let me see."

I didn't answer.

Before he could grab it, his phone rang. Serafina's name flashing on the screen.

He froze. Then everything about him softened in an instant.

"Tsk. Stay here," he muttered, already rushing out the door.

The moment he was gone, I let out a shaky breath I didn't realize I was holding.

The doctor came in after a while, not meeting my eyes. He washed his hands at the small sink even though he hadn't touched anything, rubbing them slowly under the water. "You're being discharged today," he said quietly. "Mr. Valente already settled everything."

Of course he did. Money was the only thing he used to feel like a good man. Tribute and laundered cash flowing through the family's treasury, and he thought a paid hospital bill made him generous.

A pair of nurses came in carrying a box and a bouquet of white roses.

"Mr. Valente said these are for you," one said gently.

I stared at the roses.

White. Pure. Innocent.

Exactly what I wasn't anymore.

I didn't even touch them.

I changed into the dress. Red satin, fitted perfectly, like he still remembered my measurements but had forgotten my entire existence.

The driver came to the door. One of the family's men, not a bodyguard but not nobody either. "Ma'am, the boss asked me to bring you straight to the restaurant."

I just nodded.

…

When I reached the table, I froze.

The restaurant was one of the family's front establishments, a place where the Valentes dined in a private back room with heavy curtains and no windows facing the street. The maître d' had cleared the surrounding tables. Two of Nico's soldiers stood near the kitchen entrance, jackets unbuttoned.

Nico was already there, smiling like nothing was wrong… and sitting right beside him was Serafina.

She looked perfect, of course she did. Ivory dress, glowing skin, both hands resting on her belly like she was posing for some magazine cover. Her fingertips drifted briefly to the hollow of her throat, then settled back on the curve of her stomach.

Nico looked a little nervous but still gave me that fake gentle smile.

"Bianca," he said, standing up. "Serafina didn't want to eat alone tonight. She's been stressed. I couldn't just… leave her."

"Yeah," I said, sinking into my seat. "You never leave her."

He flinched but pretended not to notice.

"Let's just have a calm night, okay?"

Then he pulled out two things from a small bag.

The first bracelet he pushed toward me was cheap. Hand-made. Ugly uneven beads, childish colors.

"Serafina made this," he said, like it was supposed to mean something. "She said it's her way of saying thank you… and sorry."

Serafina gave me a shy little smile, the kind that wasn't shy at all.

"I made it myself," she said sweetly. "I know you don't have many… nice things, so I thought you'd appreciate something heartfelt."

The insult was so obvious it almost made me laugh.

Then Nico turned to her and clasped a diamond bracelet around her wrist with glittering stones, dripping money, the kind of thing only Serafina ever got.

"It looks perfect on you," he murmured to her.

Serafina lifted her wrist, admiring how the diamonds caught the light.

"It's beautiful, Nico. Really. You always know exactly what I like."

I set the cheap bracelet back on the table.

"I don't want this."

Nico's smile twitched. "Bianca—"

"I said I don't want it."

He sighed, annoyed, then tried to act like everything was normal.

Asked about my health.

Asked if the compound was fine.

Small, empty questions.

I answered with one-word replies.

Meanwhile, Serafina kept talking about their childhood, how Nico used to sneak into her family's garden, how they used to play piano together, how close they used to be. Every story was just another knife she shoved into my ribs, and she knew it.

I stayed quiet.

Nico watched me every now and then, waiting for a reaction, hoping I'd look hurt so he could feel important. I didn't give him anything.

My thumb pressed hard against the inside of my ring finger, against the pale groove where the wedding band used to sit. I held it there until the pressure turned to pain, and I kept my hand beneath the tablecloth where neither of them could see.

Then… I smelled it.

Gas.

Before I could say a word—

BOOM.

The whole restaurant exploded.

Glass shattered. The floor shook. Flames roared up the walls. The heavy curtains of the private room caught fire instantly, and somewhere behind me one of the soldiers was screaming into a phone that would never connect.

I was thrown across the room, hitting the ground so hard everything spun.

"Nico!" I screamed. "Please—help me!"

Through the smoke, he stood frozen for a second.

Then Serafina grabbed him, screaming dramatically,

"Nico! I can't move! The babies! Please, help me!"

She wasn't hurt. Not even a scratch.

Her acting was so perfect it made me sick.

I reached out for him, coughing, barely able to breathe.

"Nico… please…"

He looked between us. Between me half-buried under debris and Serafina pretending to sob.

Then something cold settled over his face.

"I'll come back for you!" he shouted at me.

But he didn't run toward me.

He ran straight out the door carrying Serafina.

The fire crackled louder. Heat wrapped around me like a burning cage. My legs were pinned and I couldn't move. My lungs fought for air. The remains of the private room collapsed inward, and through the gap where the door had been I could see nothing but flame and empty hallway.

So this is it?

This is how he leaves me.

This is how he finally kills me without touching me.