Fed up

That explained everything then—the distance, how he dodged her eyes when they met with his, the brown orbs filled with guilt, and how he never stayed home to spend time with her and Matteo.

Alexa was back, and seeing her, she passed her a disgusted look that had Elena swallowing her hurt back and suddenly wanting to dash out of the gathering.

Nikolai finished talking, and he came down from the podium. She waited for him to sit beside her, but he never came. She turned to see him walk past Alexa outside the hall.

Elena had seen enough; she brushed a tear from her face. Her mama never taught her to cry for any man, but she couldn't stop hurting so badly, maybe because she had sacrificed so much for this man to throw her away like thrash.

And he was then choosing a woman who didn't think of him as anything.

It seemed her prayers were answered because the party had ended, and raising her long blue gown with a long sleeve up, she walked over to where Nikolai was now, hoping she'd see him outside.

And sure enough, she caught sight of him watching her too.

She was about to walk the remaining steps to him when Alexa blocked her.

"I can't believe you're still sticking around, Elena; I mean, don't you have any shame left?" Her dark hair was tied in a bun, and since she was taller, she glared down at Elena, "Nikolai is not in love with you; find a life elsewhere."

Elena was never one to have a comeback, and the only sentence that came to her head was, "Shameless is leaving your son to whore around, Alexa."

Elena knew the reason Alexa didn't strike her in the face was that they were in public, and hitting a first lady was going to be a scandal Nikolai wasn't going to like.

Another reason was that Nikolai was walking toward Alexa and finally stopping behind her; he stared down at the dark-haired woman, his adoration for her mixed with hopelessness. 

Elena didn't even ask for much, just a little taste of how much he loved this woman, but she knew she would never get it as long as Alexa lived.

Nikolai didn't touch her; he stood still while Alexa talked.

"You're a wife only in public," Alexa said as she approached her, "but inside, he knows only me; every night he leaves you, he comes to me. I was once in your shoes, baby," Alexa said as she brushed her hair away from her face. "Take this as advice; leave before you harm yourself."

"Alexa, that's enough," Nikolai said softly, and one might think that was endearment instead of reprimanding; he then walked away from them, leaving her with Alexa.

She followed him, seeing him climb into the other side of the car. She breathed out a sigh; at least he was going home with her; maybe that night mattered something to him after all.

But as she was about to reach the door, his bodyguard suddenly stepped before her. She looked up at him questioningly when he said, with a voice that held no emotion, "I'm sorry, first lady. The president won't be going home with you tonight."

She'd rather have had Nikolai stab her straight through the heart, but more hurt came, for as she watched, she saw Alexa sway through, and the bouncer opened the door for her to go in.

And the car drove off, leaving her standing and watching it smoke.

He left her all alone.

"This way, ma'am," the bouncer motioned for her to walk to another car; still hurting, she walked into it, and as the driver drove off, her tears came down in torrents.

He wasn't at fault; he told her all of this was pretend—a contract; besides, wasn't she going to get paid—but why didn't the money hold any allure anymore?

She wanted the only thing she couldn't get.

She wanted Nikolai Rossi so much that she was going through the pain of knowing he didn't want her back.

Despite the driver giving her funny glances, she couldn't stop the tears, so much so that her shoulders shook and her chest heaved.

Now back at the house, she hurriedly climbed down and was met with one of the nannies who was in charge of taking care of little Matteo. She looked worried when she saw the tears in her eyes.

"Madam, is anything the matter?"

Elena shook her head and smiled, "No, I'm okay. Where's Matteo?"

The Nanny bit her lower lips and replied, "Ma, he won't stop crying; he wants his mama. He refused to eat nor sleep."

She hurriedly rushed to him, and sure enough, she heard his cries bouncing through the walls of his room and hers; though he had his room, he preferred sharing with her.

He was the best gift she had ever had; from the first day she held him in her arms, she had loved him, and unlike his father, he had returned the love tenfold.

He was sitting on the bed, his eyes filled with tears, until he saw her; then his face brightened, and he screamed in a high-pitched voice, "Mama."

She ran to him and held him in her arms, kissing his face and saying, "Mama is here, darling. You had a bad day, honey?"

He nodded, his green eyes holding hers.

"Mama had a bad day too—a lot of bad days."

He wrapped his tiny arms around her again, "Never leave me again, Mama, so you don't cry anymore."

She swallowed the heaviness in her throat. How could she tell him that if his dad asked her to, She'd had to go, leaving him even though she didn't want to?

She pushed the fear away; after all, this was just one of the numerous times Alexa would come into his life and disappear, so maybe she wouldn't be leaving Matteo just yet.

After she had fed him then caressed his beautiful dark hair until he slept on her lap, she then carried him up to her room, placed him on the bed, and kissed his forehead.

She stood up carefully so as not to wake him up. Seeing he was sound asleep, she walked out of the room at a loss of what to do to get her mind off the fact that Nikolai was in his room with Alexa, probably fucking her brains off.

She heard the moans as she passed his door and then knew she hadn't accused him falsely.

Alexa screamed like she wanted everyone in the building to hear how hard she had the President tied around her fingers.

She wasn't supposed to care.

Elena shut her ears and walked into his office, hoping to clear up his paperwork would distract her from the hurt she felt eating up at her chest. She was grateful that the tears had stopped, but it was too late, for her make-up was already ruined.

Now in, she began to clear up the table, putting them in order in files so he found it easy to find something when he needed it; she was so good at it that he had her arrange his space every time.

Done with the shelves, she started on the table, where her eyes fell on some papers that seemed to catch her attention.

Straightening up, she picked it up, and immediately her eyes fell on its title; her heart broke, and her lips began to tremble.

Divorce papers.

She fell onto the chair, trying to catch her breath. This was it—two years of her life were over, two years of sacrifice, two years of waiting for him to love her back—and President Nikolai Rossi was ready to serve her the divorce papers.

The tears came again, wetting the white sheet; she dropped it on the table to avoid denting it anymore as she stained her face and ruined more of her neck.

But then...

But then she stood up. It was enough of this nonsense, enough of being a stupid weakling doting on a man she knew would never love her; she had a life. She was a talented fashion designer who had people gushing over her wedding dress.

She could do it without him; even if it was going to be hard, she was going to work through it because she was a strong woman, and she didn't need his money.

And then she made up her mind.

She picked up a pen and signed the papers, and just like he had casually walked into her life, she casually walked out of his.

And she hoped this would be the last time she'd meet Nikolai Rossi.

She would do it.

Without him there.