Looking back now, I realized those tears must have been for Luigi Collins and the words he had left her with.
In her best years, she did not marry the man she truly loved. I had to say that this kind of regret was one of life’s greatest sorrows.
And now, as her life drew closer to its end, she refused to carry that regret to her grave. That was why she made the will, to ensure she could rest beside Luigi Collins in death.
As I stood there lost in thought, I caught sight of her struggling to drag her suitcase out of the bedroom, the streaks of white in her hair at her temples more pronounced under the light.
My chest tightened and I felt a sudden sting in my eyes.
No matter what had happened, she was the woman who had shared my bed and my life for decades. She had given so much to this family and her sacrifices were not small.
I could not help but say, "Let me take you to the airport."
"Just so I can say goodbye."
She was ready to refuse, but after a moment, she nodded silently.
On the drive to the airport, she sat in the back seat, silently gazing out the window. I stayed quiet, feeling more like a taxi driver than her husband.
Every so often, I glanced at her profile through the rearview mirror and mixed feelings surged in my heart.
Questions burned in my chest. What did our years of marriage mean to her? What about the family we built together?
And what about the love I had poured into her?
However, I swallowed the words, holding them back.
Because there was a smile on her face that I had never seen before. It was a smile that radiated pure joy like a young girl’s.
Even in the best moments when I thought she was happiest, she had never smiled like this.
When the car pulled up to the airport, Wanda stepped out quickly, dragging her suitcase behind her and not even saying goodbye.
Her steps were brisk and determined.
She was running toward her happiness, finally free of the cage she believed had restrained her for decades.
Watching her retreating figure, I felt a deep, unshakable sadness.
Decades of my devotion, my unreserved love...
All of it… meant nothing.
When she left, she did not hesitate or show even the slightest trace of nostalgia.
It was as if every moment with me had been a burden.
Returning home, I felt hollow as I sat in the wicker chair by the window, gazing out at the golden autumn leaves for the entire afternoon.
I tried reasoning with myself, telling myself to let go.
But it was harder than I imagined.
Each minute after her departure felt like an eternity of quiet suffering.
I tried not to think of her, but questions circled endlessly in my head.
Had she arrived safely in Estoria?
She always feared the cold. Had she dressed warmly enough?
The food there was so different from what she was used to. Could she adapt?
Would she miss our son, grandsons and... me?
Frustrated, I wanted to slap myself in the face for my weakness.
I called myself a fool, a pathetic dog chasing after someone who did not care.
Wake up, Ethan Mitchell!
Wanda doesn't love you anymore.
Or perhaps she never did.
I had been nothing more than a replacement for Luigi Collins.
Three days passed in a haze of emptiness. Then, finally, my phone buzzed with an update from Wanda’s social media.
For a fleeting moment, I felt relief that she had not blocked me.
But when I opened the post, it felt like the ground beneath me had vanished.
There was only one photo.
In a snowy, antique mansion, Wanda sat in a beautiful bright red dress, radiant and poised beside Luigi.
Behind them stood a crowd of people, their faces glowing with joy.
And among them were my son, my daughter-in-law and my two grandsons.
They were all there, smiling with pure happiness.
My chest tightened painfully as though a heavy stone had settled on it, making it hard to breathe.
No wonder they had not come to see me in the past few days and they had not even called me once. They had gone to Estoria to see Luigi, keeping me in the dark.
It turned out that Wanda was not the only one who stabbed me with betrayal.
I raised my head and looked at the framed photo on the wall.
