Chapter 86 — The Reckoning
Auri's POV
The air felt heavy as I stepped into my apartment. The familiar scent of Marcela's herbal teas and the faint aroma of the small meal I had managed to cook earlier mingled with the tension pressing down on my chest. Today wasn't about food or comfort—it was about facing the man who had broken my trust.
I had spent months preparing myself for this moment. Months of sleepless nights, of quiet tears, of grappling with the grief of losing my daughter and the betrayal I had endured afterward. Now, Dante stood before me, the weight of guilt and desperation etched across his face.
Dante's Guilt
"I… I know you hate me," Dante began, voice low, hesitant. "And I… I deserve it. I know I've hurt you. I know I've made you suffer in ways I can't fix."
I folded my arms, keeping my voice steady, though my heart trembled. "Do you even realize what you've done, Dante? Do you understand how close you came to destroying everything we had?"
His jaw tightened. "I… I almost lost myself. Celestine… she—"
"Stop," I interrupted sharply. "Don't you dare put any of the blame on her. You are the one who chose her over us, even if it was only for a moment. That moment is enough, Dante. Enough for me to know how fragile our trust really was—and still is."
He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping. "I know. I know, Auri. And I'm sorry. I… I can't tell you how sorry I am. Nothing I do, nothing I say, will ever be enough to make up for it."
The Confrontation
I stepped closer, voice firm, eyes blazing. "Do you know how it felt? To see her name, to see that email? To realize that the man I loved—the man I trusted with my life—could let another woman into our lives in that way? Do you have any idea what it did to me?"
Dante flinched as if the words physically struck him. "I… I can't take back what you felt, Auri. I… I was weak, and I regret it every second."
"Weak?" I echoed, voice rising. "It wasn't weakness, Dante. It was a choice. And you chose her. You chose temptation. You chose… betrayal!"
His eyes glistened with tears, but I didn't let him soften me. I couldn't. "You think apologies erase pain? You think words can heal what was torn apart? You've destroyed my sense of safety, my trust, and a part of my heart that will never be the same again."
Auri's Decision
I took a deep breath, my voice dropping into a quieter, controlled edge. "I've spent months wondering if I could forgive you. If I could somehow believe in us again. But I can't. Not now. Not after everything. I need… I need to live without fear, without betrayal hanging over my head. I need to grieve properly without your guilt shadowing me."
Dante's shoulders sagged, and he whispered, "Auri… please… I love you. I… I can't lose you. I'll do anything—anything—to prove myself."
I shook my head slowly, tears streaking my cheeks. "Love isn't enough, Dante. Love doesn't undo betrayal. Love doesn't erase what nearly happened. And I… I can't take the chance again. I need to protect myself, my heart. I need to protect my life, my future… even if it means leaving you behind."
The Break
Dante's face fell, the color draining from his features. His voice cracked, almost inaudible. "Auri… please… don't leave me. I… I can't live without you. I—"
"You already almost broke me," I said softly, yet firmly. "And I can't go back. Not now. Not ever—at least until I'm certain I can trust again. And right now… I'm not."
The silence that followed was suffocating. He opened his mouth as if to argue, to beg, but I held up a hand.
"Goodbye, Dante," I whispered. "Take care of yourself. Learn from this. Because I… I can't be part of your life anymore."
With that, I turned, my steps slow but determined, and walked out of the apartment. Each step felt heavy but deliberate. I had made my choice. I had taken control of my life again.
Dante's Anguish
He sank into the chair behind him, head in his hands. Every muscle in his body ached. His guilt was a living thing, gnawing at him, reminding him of the pain he caused the woman he loved. The betrayal, the near-infidelity, the manipulation of Celestine—they were his doing, and now the one person he cherished most was gone.
He whispered her name, over and over, but the echoes returned only silence. Dante Moretti, the man used to commanding the world, realized something he had never truly understood before: some mistakes can't be undone, and some hearts, once broken, may never return.