I looked at Alessandro and couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.

Did he think this was some archaic drama where the wife and the concubine were supposed to live in harmony?

How could he even say something so ridiculous?

Alessandro's brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth as if to speak.

I snatched the glass from his hand and downed it in one go.

The alcohol trickled down my neck. I choked and coughed a few times, my eyes turning red and glistening with tears.

In that hazy moment, I thought I saw a flash of pity in Alessandro’s eyes.

He took the empty glass back from me, but I suddenly collapsed into his arms. My breathing became shallow, and my skin flushed an unnatural red.

I heard someone nearby exclaim, "Oh my God, is Mrs. Moretti allergic to alcohol?"

It was as if Alessandro had just woken up from a dream. He cursed under his breath.

I felt him sweep me up into his arms and rush toward the parking lot.

I fought to stay conscious, to keep my eyes open and watch the panic on his face as he worried about me.

Alessandro, you even forgot I was allergic to alcohol.

Maybe he was scared by what had happened, or maybe he was trying to make up for neglecting his wife for so long, but Alessandro stayed home for the next few days.

When I came out of my art studio, I was surprised to see him in the kitchen, wearing an apron, busy cooking.

"What made you decide to cook all of a sudden?"

I leaned against the wall, asking him with genuine surprise.

"Alessia, I was thinking about how we used to be."

Alessandro looked up, his eyes full of tenderness and affection.

"We've been by each other's side for almost twenty-six years. No one can ever replace that."

For a moment, I was lost in thought.

"How we used to be." What a heavy phrase.

At 16, Alessandro said, "Alessia, I won't let anyone bully you, not even me."

At 18, he said, "Alessia, I will always, always be with you. It's not a want, it's a will."

At 22, he said, "My life is short, but what is it without you?"

At 23, he said, "Having a baby is too hard on a woman. Let's not have kids. It'll just be the two of us, together until we're old."

At 24, he said, "Alessia can live without Alessandro, but Alessandro can't live without Alessia."

Back then, we only had eyes for each other, convinced that true love could conquer anything.

But we were too naive.

True love might be invincible, but it's also fickle.

As I thought about it, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. It all felt so pointless.

"Alessandro, let's get a divorce."