Chapter 2 - Forty-Seven Calls Before Breakfast|
For almost a full minute, I stared at the screenshot without answering.
Forty-seven missed calls.
Dante had called me more times in one morning than he had during some entire business trips. At first, the number made me feel vindicated. Then I realized how easily he had turned my absence into an emergency without once asking whether I was all right.
My phone rang again.
DANTE MORTY.
I let it ring.
A text arrived immediately.
Pick up the phone, Isabella.
Then another.
You have no right to involve my family in whatever game you're playing.
I almost laughed. A game? I'd spent thirteen years smoothing over his temper, remembering his mother's medication schedule, making sure Lucy never felt caught between her parents, and keeping the household running while Dante's enemies tried to find weaknesses in his empire. Now, for the first time, I had gone somewhere he couldn't reach me simply by shouting my name.
I turned my phone facedown and looked around the diner.
A waitress was pouring coffee for a truck driver. Two students were sharing pancakes. A woman in a red coat was laughing at something on her laptop.
Nobody knew who Dante Morty was.
Nobody cared that his wife had left him.
For the first time in years, the anonymity felt like breathing.
I booked a small room at a hotel near the lake and took a shower. Then I called the event coordinator for Elena's birthday.
“Mrs. Morty?” she asked cautiously. “Mr. Morty says there may have been a misunderstanding about the arrangements.”
“There hasn't been a misunderstanding. The event is still scheduled. All the vendors have been confirmed. I've sent Dante every contract, timeline, and contact number.”
“He says you won't be attending.”
I closed my eyes.
“I haven't decided that yet.”
After I hung up, I opened the email thread I'd sent the family. I had made one thing clear: I wasn't canceling anything, withholding money, or asking anyone to take sides. I was simply no longer managing the celebration on Dante's behalf.
He could decide whether he wanted to be the host.
At 8:03, his mother called.
I answered because I loved Elena, and because she had never treated me as disposable.
“Isabella, darling, where are you?”
“I'm safe.”
“That wasn't my question.”
I swallowed.
“I'm not at home.”
A pause followed.
“Did Dante tell you to leave?”
“He told me to sleep on the sofa so Bianca could have our bed.”
Silence.
Then Elena said, very quietly, “He did what?”
I explained the conversation without exaggeration. I told her Bianca had arrived because of a plumbing emergency and that I had offered her a guest room. I told her Dante had refused.
When I finished, Elena's voice had changed.
“Come to my house.”
“I don't want to create more drama before your birthday.”
“You are not creating this drama, Isabella. My son has created it, and I will not have you hiding in a hotel because he refuses to behave like a husband.”
I hesitated.
“Please,” she said. “Let me take care of you for once.”
I agreed to visit that afternoon.
Before I could put the phone down, another message from Dante appeared.
My mother is upset. Whatever you told her, fix it.
I stared at those words.
He still wasn't asking me to come home.
He was asking me to manage his mother's feelings.
I typed a reply, deleted it, and tried again.
I told her the truth. I'm not responsible for fixing your reaction to it.
I sent the message and turned off notifications.
At noon, I went to a small clothing store and bought a sweater, a pair of jeans, and toiletries. I had left home with one bag, as though I were going away for a weekend. I hadn't planned to leave my marriage. I'd planned to make Dante understand how badly he had hurt me.
But the more I thought about returning, the more I realized that I was waiting for him to apologize for something he still believed he had every right to do.
That afternoon, Elena opened her front door herself.
She looked at my small bag, then at my face.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
She pulled me into her arms.
And over her shoulder, I saw a black SUV parked across the street.
One of Dante's security vehicles.
May you like
My husband hadn't asked whether I was safe.
He had sent someone to watch where I went.
