Leonardo sat at his desk, staring blankly at the company reports in front of him. His mind wasn't on the numbers; instead, it kept drifting to the earlier encounter with Ariana. His phone buzzed, breaking his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw Hana's name. With a sigh, he answered.
"Leonardo, your voice sounds tense. Are you still in Rome?" she asked.
"No, I got back about two hours ago," he replied curtly.
"Why didn't you let me know?" she chided lightly. "I could've come to the airport to meet you."
He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "That wouldn't have been appropriate, Hana. After all, I'm still a married man, and I can't afford to ruin my reputation like that."
"You're right," she conceded. "Anyway, I've been planning a party for your birthday tomorrow. I'm so excited about it!"
He responded with a detached, "Alright."
Sensing his mood, she tried to bring the conversation back to her side. "Actually, I need to see you tonight," she said, her voice tinged with urgency. "Something happened at home, and I need you."
"What's wrong?" he asked, though his tone lacked genuine concern.
"My father's health took a turn for the worse," she explained. "We had to rush him to the hospital, and they diagnosed him with kidney failure. The tests were bad, and the atmosphere at home is just awful."
Leonardo paused, her words stirring an uncomfortable memory. He couldn't summon sympathy—not for her father. Her family had always looked down on him, treating him like he was beneath them back when he had nothing. Their disdain had left a mark, one he couldn't forget.
"That's… unfortunate," he finally said, his voice cold. "I hope he recovers soon, but I can't come tonight. I'm not in the mood for this."
Hana hesitated before responding softly, "Alright, I understand. Take care, darling, and have a good night."
After hanging up, Leonardo leaned back in his chair, exhaling heavily. For the first time, he allowed his thoughts to drift to someone else—Ariana.
Her calm defiance earlier, the way she dismissed his birthday as if it didn't matter, and the way she claimed the gifts weren't for him—it all replayed in his mind. She had stirred something in him, something unfamiliar and unsettling. For the first time, he found himself truly thinking about his wife.
In the morning, Ariana woke up in her bed and remembered it was her day off. She felt a rare sense of relief and happiness—finally, a break from the workload at the company. Even though she had only recently started her job, the tasks were already overwhelming. She got out of bed, her mind wandering to what she should wear for tonight's party.
Unlike the lavish events she attended with her husband, Leonardo, this party was different. It was going to be held at Liam's house—a modest family gathering. She didn't need an extravagant gown, which made the decision easier but still left her pondering her wardrobe.
While searching through her closet, a sudden knock on the door startled her. She opened it and was surprised to find Leonardo standing there. Over the past three years, he had only visited her room a handful of times, so his appearance now felt unusual.
In his hand, he held a phone. "It's for you," he said curtly, handing it to her.
Taking the phone, she saw Liam's name on the screen. He was calling to confirm the time for tonight's party and apologized for disturbing her. As she spoke to Liam, Ariana noticed Leonardo's sharp gaze fixed on her, observing every word of the conversation.
She tried to act naturally and assured Liam, "Yes, I'll be there tonight."
Liam hesitated for a moment and asked, "Someone else answered earlier. That wasn't… your husband, was it?"
Ariana dismissed his concern quickly, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
But Liam's voice softened, filled with emotion. "Alright, I'll see you tonight," he said, the warmth in his tone unmistakable.
Feeling flustered by his sudden tenderness, Ariana ended the call quickly and handed the phone back to Leonardo.
Leonardo's voice was laced with sarcasm as he remarked, "Your lover called, so I thought I'd better not keep him waiting."
She didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she responded coolly, "Thanks," and shut the door in his face.
She headed to the bathroom for a shower, hoping to shake off the strange tension of the morning. But as the hot water poured over her, her thoughts lingered on what had just happened.
The weight of her emotions hit her hard. For so long, she had suppressed everything she felt—frustration, longing, and even the faint glimmer of love she still harbored for Leonardo.
But admitting that she loved him would also mean admitting that he didn't care for her, and that was a wound she wasn't willing to face.
The tears came anyway, hot and fast, mingling with the water. Hidden beneath the cascade of the shower, she finally allowed herself to cry.