Page 16 of Shattered Choices

I now understand the feeling I had all day. Was he stalking me? Was that why I’d felt uneasy the whole day?

I’d asked myself how I would feel if I ever saw him again. I sometimes dreamed of him coming for me and taking me back to New York, telling me everything would be all right, that we would work things out.

But that was just a dream. The reality hurts.

I’d never been hurt the way he hurt me.

I never suffered before like I suffered after I met him.

I was never happy the way I was when I was with him.

I’d never loved anyone the way I loved him.

And yet I can’t look at him. The wound is not healed enough. The pain is still there. No matter what I did, the wins I had in the last year. It never helped to glue my shattered heart back together.

They say there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I went through all the stages except one.

Anger.

I never had a chance to work through it. Never had a chance to blame someone for what had happened. He avoided me when I most needed him, and now he’s here.

Why is he here?

He tries to get closer to me, but Rafaele holds him back. “Don’t you dare move.”

I wake up from the daze of my shock and swallow the lump in my throat. I study him. There is no fear on his face. Not that I expected that, but neither did I expect him to come here with a grin on his face.

I look around the room and see that all the men are watching him, each one of them ready to act if he plans on doing something.

How did he know where to find me? How did he get in here?

I open my mouth to say something, but I can’t. I feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing my mouth. I inhale sharply and look at the men.

“Leave us.”

They don’t move.

I look at each one of them. “I said leave us.”

They stand slowly, not hurrying. I look at Rafaele. “You too, Rafaele.”

He looks from Salvatore to me. “Donna, I can’t.”

I stand and walk toward him until I’m toe to toe with him. I glare at him. “You are going to leave us.”

He takes a step back and nods. “I will be just on the other side of the door.” He looks at Salvatore. “Don’t you dare try anything.”

I wait until everyone is out of the room so I can look at him. He’s still on his knees but with a huge smirk on his face.

“Can I stand?” He tries to, and I push him back with my red heel.

“You need to earn the right to stand first,” I say, proud of myself for how steady my voice is, and how cold.

His face falls. “Fair enough.”

“Why are you here? Have you brought our divorce papers?”

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