Adrian
The words I love you both didn’t just pierce me—they detonated inside my chest, blowing apart whatever was left of the man I’d been when I walked into the warehouse.
I stood frozen, unable to breathe, my vision blurring around the edges as if the world were collapsing inward.
Serafina knelt on the ground, shaking, tears streaking her face, but I could barely see her. All I could hear were those four words echoing like a death knell in my skull. I love you both. God. God. The truth of it ripped something vital out of me.
“You…” My voice cracked in half. I dragged a trembling hand across my jaw, trying to force breath back into my lungs. “You love him. You actually—” I broke off, choking on the taste of betrayal and my own guilt. “You love him.”
Serafina’s head jerked up, eyes wide and devastated. “Adrian, no—please—listen—”
But I was already unraveling. It felt like every lie I’d told her, every night I’d spent seeking someone else’s touch, every moment I’d retreated emotionally—all of it was crashing down on me, folding me into the man I least wanted to be. A hypocrite. A coward. A betrayer accusing another.
“You love him,” I repeated, voice dark and hollow. “Not just lust. Not just nostalgia. Love.”
Matteo stepped forward, rage flashing in his eyes. “You heard her—she loves you too.”
“Shut up,” I snarled, my voice sharp enough to cut air. “Just shut up, Matteo.”
He didn’t. “You think you’re the only one hurting here? You think you’re the only one who lost something tonight?”
I lunged toward him before I even processed the movement, fury blinding me. “Lost something? Lost something? I lost my wife!”
Matteo didn’t back away. “You pushed her away before I ever touched her!”
“Do not,” I growled, stepping so close our chests nearly collided, “do not pretend you did nothing.”
Serafina scrambled to her feet, reaching between us with trembling hands. “Stop it! Both of you! This isn’t helping!”
But neither of us heard her. Couldn’t hear anything but the rage pounding in our skulls.
“You think you’re innocent in this?” I spat at Matteo. “You think slipping into shadows with a married woman makes you the righteous one?”
His jaw tightened. “You weren’t there for her. Someone had to be.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
I stumbled back a step—not from fear, but from the raw, sickening truth underneath his accusation. I hadn’t been there. I had been disappearing, night after night, hiding behind excuses, drowning myself in guilt and lust and lies. But hearing him say it ignited something savage inside me.
“You don’t get to fill my failures with your fantasies,” I hissed. “You don’t get to take what’s mine because I broke it—”
“Adrian!” Serafina’s voice cracked like lightning, but anger had already swallowed me whole.
“You don’t get to claim her,” I said, turning on Matteo with a fury that felt like fire crawling under my skin. “Not after what you did to her. Not after you destroyed her once already.”
Matteo’s eyes darkened. “And you think you haven’t been destroying her now?”
The ground dropped out beneath me.
Serafina covered her mouth, sobbing again. “Please—stop. Please.”
But I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
“You want to compete with me for her?” I spat. “You want to prove something? What—who loves her more? Who she’ll choose? Newsflash, Matteo—she didn’t choose either of us. She’s broken. We broke her. Both of us.”
Matteo flinched, but he didn’t deny it. He just stared at me with a pain that mirrored my own.
And somehow that made everything worse.
I rounded on Serafina then, my voice shredding. “You love him. You love him after everything he did. After the lies. The betrayal. The cruelty.”
She shook her head violently. “I didn’t say I chose him. I said—I said—”
“That you love us both,” I finished bitterly. “And you think that makes this better?”
Her shoulders crumpled. “No. I know it doesn’t. I know everything is falling apart. I know I hurt you. I know—I know I’ve betrayed you.”
I laughed bitterly, the sound raw and broken. “Betrayed me? Serafina, I betrayed you first. The assistant. The club. The women. I lied to your face day after day.” My voice wavered. “How can I stand here and accuse you of anything when I was already sinning behind closed doors?”
She took a step toward me, eyes pleading. “Adrian, don’t do this. Don’t carry all the blame.”
“Oh, I carry plenty,” I said, voice splintering. “I carry more than you know.”
She reached for me.
I stepped back.
Her face shattered.
Matteo glared at me. “Don’t walk away from her.”
I swung toward him, shaking with fury. “Don’t you dare tell me how to be a husband.”
“I didn’t need to,” Matteo said. “You failed at that all on your own.”
Serafina gasped, “Matteo—stop!”
But the words had already landed. Hard. Too hard.
My breath left me in a single, bruising exhale. I stared at Matteo, something cold and empty flooding my veins.
“You’re right,” I whispered. “I failed.”
Serafina shook her head desperately. “Adrian, no—please—don’t say that—”
“Oh, why not?” I barked. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? I failed you. I failed us. And now you’re both standing here, looking at me like I’m the villain in a story I didn’t even realize we were rewriting.”
She moved closer again. “Adrian—please, we can talk—”
“There’s nothing left to talk about,” I said, voice breaking clean in half. “Not now. Not like this.”
“Don’t leave,” she cried. “Please don’t walk out.”
Her voice nearly stopped me. Nearly.
But Matteo stepped beside her, hands lightly on her arms, supporting her as she swayed in grief.
And seeing them—together like that—destroyed me.
“I can’t stay here,” I forced out, throat closing. “I can’t breathe in this room. I can’t look at either of you right now.”
“Adrian!” she reached for me again.
I stepped backward, away from her touch. “Our marriage…” I forced the words through shaking breath, “…I don’t know if it survives this.”
Her knees buckled.
Matteo caught her.
And that image—the man who broke her holding her while she cried over losing me—stabbed a blade directly into my ribs.
I turned away.
I walked out of the warehouse into the night air, but my chest stayed trapped inside, shattering in pieces I didn’t know how to pick up.
I didn’t look back.
Because if I did, I might never leave. And I was convinced—right then, in the hollow wreckage of my heart—that our marriage was broken beyond repair.