“Don’t you dare ask me for a divorce after everything I’ve been through,” I complain.
I do not know how to handle this seriousness.
I do not know what I would do afterward.
I have done everything for everyone.
I know nothing about myself.
“I wouldn’t dare. My wife knows how to use a gun.”
He smiles.
“But after everything you’ve done, the very least I owe you is an apology, not only for refusing to believe you and abandoning you to face everything alone.”
“How else did you offend me?”
“Sometimes an offense is so subtle that even the person being wronged doesn’t recognize it. And I did that to you when I demanded blind trust even though you barely knew me. When I wanted you to behave like a Vitale, even though simply being Valentina had always been enough. When I demanded your secre
