Chapter 13 - THE FIRST DATE AFTER THE DIVORCE
Eighteen months after Isabella disappeared, I saw her across a crowded café in Greenwich Village.
She wore a cream sweater.
Her dark hair fell over one shoulder.
There were no diamonds on her fingers.
No guards following her.
No expensive designer handbag.
She looked like the woman I'd fallen in love with before either of us knew what the Moretti name would cost.
I almost turned around.
Not because I didn't want to see her.
Because I was afraid the sight of her would undo every bit of progress I'd made.
Then she looked up.
And smiled.
Not the guarded smile she'd given me during our final months of marriage.
A real smile.
"Dante."
I crossed the room.
"Isabella."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she pointed toward the empty chair.
"Would you like to sit?"
I nodded.
"Very much."
We ordered coffee.
Talked about ordinary things.
Her work.
Lucia.
Sofia.
The new apartment she'd found near the river.
For the first time in years, I listened without checking my phone.
Without interrupting.
Without turning every conversation toward my businesses.
Then Isabella asked, "How are you?"
I considered the question.
"Better."
She nodded.
"I'm glad."
I looked down.
"But I still miss you."
Her expression softened.
"I know."
For a moment, I wanted to ask whether she missed me.
Instead, I asked something different.
"Are you happy?"
She smiled gently.
"More than I was when I left."
The answer hurt.
But I was glad to hear it.
She continued.
"I'm learning who I am without being Donna Moretti."
I nodded.
"You deserve that."
She studied me.
"Do you mean it?"
"Yes."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she leaned forward.
"Dante, I want to ask you something."
My heart accelerated.
"Anything."
"Why did you cheat?"
There it was.
The question I'd avoided for nearly two years.
I took a slow breath.
"Because I was selfish."
She watched me carefully.
I continued.
"I wanted the comfort of knowing you'd always be there and the excitement of feeling wanted by someone new."
My voice tightened.
"I told myself our marriage had become routine."
I looked directly at her.
"But I was the one who stopped showing up."
Tears filled her eyes.
I continued.
"You asked me to talk. I refused. You needed me. I ignored you. And instead of admitting I was failing our marriage, I blamed you for noticing."
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she whispered, "That's the first time you've answered without making excuses."
I nodded.
"I know."
She wiped her cheek.
"I spent so long wondering what I lacked."
My heart broke.
"Nothing."
She looked at me.
"You made me feel replaceable."
I swallowed.
"You weren't."
"But I felt it."
I nodded.
"I understand."
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Isabella said something unexpected.
"I've been seeing a therapist."
I smiled faintly.
"So have I."
She looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Every Thursday."
A small laugh escaped her.
"That must've been difficult at first."
I nodded.
"I spent the first three sessions trying to negotiate with him."
She laughed.
God, I'd missed that sound.
Then she became serious.
"Dante, I don't know what happens next."
I nodded.
"Neither do I."
"But I wanted to see you."
My heart skipped.
"Why?"
She smiled sadly.
"Because I wanted to know whether I could sit across from you without losing myself."
I swallowed.
"And?"
She looked into my eyes.
"I can."
For the first time, I understood that her independence wasn't a threat to my love.
It was the condition that made honest love possible.
Then Isabella reached into her handbag.
She removed a small velvet box.
My heart stopped.
Inside was her wedding ring.
The one she'd left on our bed.
She placed it between us.
I stared.
"Isabella..."
She shook her head.
"I'm not asking you to put it back on."
I looked up.
"Then why bring it?"
Her eyes filled.
"Because I want to know whether we can build something new without pretending the old marriage survived."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I nodded.
"Only if that's what you want."
She smiled through tears.
May you like
"One date at a time."
And for the first time in eighteen months, I felt hope without needing to control where it led.
