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84. Susanna’s pov
Last Updated:
2025-01-25 23:55:13
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My Neighbour's Wife 85. Susanna’s pov
A year later…and some.A tear runs down my cheek and my fingers rest atop my quivering lips. “It’s…beautiful.”Fabian peers over my shoulder. “I don’t get it. What is it?”“A visual representation of my mental state. Do you like it?” I ask, tracing the chaotic brush strokes with my fingertips. Erica, Fabian’s girlfriend chuckles, chipping away at my fries. “The project was on portraits, Susan. Mrs. Rideal’s gonna to make an example of you again.”I gesture towards the drawing. “But this is a portrait of me!”Fabian makes a face, snatching the fries from Erica. All he does lately is eat my food. “You’ve got paint in your hair.” He frowns when my phone pings multiple times. I snatch it off the stool before he can and go through my notifications.The world bleeds away, taking the sounds of Erica and Fabian smooching on my couch away with it. I feed my growing obsession with picture after picture. Cold brown eyes. Crisp navy blue tuxedo. A devastatingly ruthless smile. Confident. Arrogan
Last Updated : 2025-01-25My Neighbour's Wife 86. Susanna’s pov
The club looms ahead, sleek and dark, its golden insignia glowing under the London drizzle. Oblio Nero. A long line stretches down the sidewalk, but we don’t need to wait. Our VIP tickets see to that.“You’re insane,” Erica says, gripping Fabian’s arm tightly. “This place is insane!”The latter has barely spoken a word since I informed him of where we were going. His expression is drawn and distant, eyes darting about as if in search of something.I would normally pummel him for answers, but I can’t think past my wracking nerves and anxiety.What if this doesn’t go as planned? I don’t have a plan, even. What if things have changed? What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if the moment our eyes meet, there’s no heat or tingle? What if he’s moved on? What if…I’ve lost him?We walk through the doors, let in quickly by the bouncers outside.The bass vibrates through my ribs. The club is all shadows and golden light, the people a perfect blend of affluence and excess. Waitresses glide by i
Last Updated : 2025-01-29My Neighbour's Wife 87. Susanna's pov
Pain.That’s the first thing I register. A dull, insistent pounding behind my eyes, like a hammer striking against my skull. My mouth is dry, my tongue thick and heavy, the taste of last night’s recklessness still clinging to my lips.I groan, pulling the covers over my face to hide from the sunlight and I sink further into sleep. Only to be awoken by a rather violent dream…or memory.“Why the fuck not?!” Zefiro snarls, gripping my naked shoulder. “Why do you say no, still? Look me in the fucking eye while you lie to me and tell me you do not want more than this. Tell me you do not want to be my wife.”“I can’t!”“Again, why the hell not?!”“I can’t have children!”My eyes snap open and jolting up so fast causes a fresh wave of nausea curling through my stomach. What the hell?I blink past the haziness and the pain and look around at the mess in my bedroom. My bedroom. Why…how?The sheets are tangled around my legs as I fall out of bed, confused as hell, only to trip on shaky legs. I
Last Updated : 2025-01-29My Neighbour's Wife 88. Susanna's pov
The memories return to me in bits over the next few weeks, fueling my need to see him. To explain. To apologize. To plead. But he never returned to London, and it took an embarrassing amount of time to realize why.As the owner, it was only normal that he attended the opening ceremony. The woman who had been perched on his shoulder that night is Diana Moreau, and she will be managing Oblio Nero. He has no reason to be here, when he has other engagements elsewhere.I wasn’t enough reason for him to stay. Not anymore. Because I’ve gone and ruined everything. Again.“I can’t have children!” The words rip from my throat like something jagged and raw, something torn straight from the center of my being. I hadn’t known for a long time. Not until a couple of years into my marriage with Jaxon. He’d returned home one night, drunk and angry. I was ill and didn’t feel like being subjected to his rage. I refused and the beating had been so bad, I’d broken a rib.He’d taken me to the hospital in b
Last Updated : 2025-01-29My Neighbour's Wife 89. Susanna's pov
I went through day after day like a wraith. And before I could tell, a month had passed since the encounter. By the end of October, I have succeeded in not only failing every class woefully, but getting enough concern to get enrolled for counseling.November is the longest month. I can’t bring myself to do anything but breathe, bathe, eat, sleep and cry. By the month’s end, my clothes begin hanging off my frame awkwardly and my appetite is as dead as I feel inside.I stop calling him and leaving messages. I wouldn’t forgive me either had I been in his shoes.The loud banging on my front door rouses me from tired sleep, but I have no strength in my limbs to answer it. I draw the covers over my face and nestle back into the pillows.My room door slamming open startles me and I turn slowly at Erica’s remark. “It’s a pig’s sty in here.”The covers are thrown off my body and I voice my protest as larger arms yank me off the bed. “Put me down,” I whimper as Fabian takes me to the bathroom a
Last Updated : 2025-01-29My Neighbour's Wife 90. Susanna’s pov
Zefiro doesn’t take the envelope. Doesn’t even look at it. And for a second—maybe longer—I panic.“I’m twelve weeks.” My voice is hoarse, shaky. “I—I didn’t know. Not at first. Thought it was just the stress from exams, my shitty diet, my lack of sleep. But when I couldn’t keep food down, Fabian dragged me to the doctor, thinking I had the flu, and…”My words taper off into nothing as Zefiro takes a slow step back, then another, before sinking into his chair. He drags both hands over his face, through his hair, down again. Lets out a shuddering breath.“There’s a deal with the Chicago Outfit.” His voice is quiet, almost to himself. “This changes everything.”And then, he’s peering at me with a well -guarded, well-controlled expression. His eyes flick down once to my belly, and his nostrils flare. “Do you want it?”It is phrased like a casual question, but I see it for what it is. Another choice. The last choice I’ll ever likely make when it comes to whatever is left of us. And because
Last Updated : 2025-01-30My Neighbour's Wife 91. Susanna’s pov
I’m shown to a bedroom beside Mrs. Della Rocca’s, and I barely have a moment’s peace before I’m assaulted by an army of designers.Dress fittings. Jewelry selections. Shoes. Flowers. Colors. Styles. Over and over again, until it finally dawns on me.I’m getting married. Again.The first had been nothing at all like this. There hadn’t been any arrangements made prior and I didn’t have a choice in a single thing. Now, I am consulted about every detail. The colors for the wedding and reception dresses, as well as the designs. The jewelry—Grandmother suggested I wear something of the family heirloom when I found everything I was shown to be more than exaggerated. Shoes. The type of flowers to be used for the decoration of the yard and halls, since we’d decided on a classic romantic garden theme.Not we. His grandmother did with such glee, I couldn’t say no.I often found myself wondering if Zefiro wanted a romantic wedding. If he even had a care in the world left for me at all. Then I’d b
Last Updated : 2025-01-30My Neighbour's Wife 92. Susanna’s pov
I don’t have my mother or father to walk me down the aisle, but I don’t do it alone. I clutch Rizzi’s arm like a lifeline, nails digging into the expensive black fabric of his suit as we step past the arched hallway and into the garden. My pulse is a runaway train, my stomach in knots that have knots, and my heels suddenly feel two inches taller.“Is it the nerves or the dress?”My nails dig into his black suit and I try to force down more floral coated air. The yard stretches out before us, decorated in wild flowers, vines and lush greenery, the shaded walk way covered in rose petals path draped unraveling under my feet. My train catches, sweeping across the floors and soft ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ fill the air as we close in on last row of white Chiavari seats.“Both?”“If it makes you feel any better, I was too.”An ugly snort slips past my lips before I can stop it, loud enough to make even the pianist flinch. Christ. "They must think I’m a mess."Rizzi taps the back of my hand, a smirk t
Last Updated : 2025-01-30
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My Neighbour's Wife 92. Susanna’s pov
I don’t have my mother or father to walk me down the aisle, but I don’t do it alone. I clutch Rizzi’s arm like a lifeline, nails digging into the expensive black fabric of his suit as we step past the arched hallway and into the garden. My pulse is a runaway train, my stomach in knots that have knots, and my heels suddenly feel two inches taller.“Is it the nerves or the dress?”My nails dig into his black suit and I try to force down more floral coated air. The yard stretches out before us, decorated in wild flowers, vines and lush greenery, the shaded walk way covered in rose petals path draped unraveling under my feet. My train catches, sweeping across the floors and soft ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ fill the air as we close in on last row of white Chiavari seats.“Both?”“If it makes you feel any better, I was too.”An ugly snort slips past my lips before I can stop it, loud enough to make even the pianist flinch. Christ. "They must think I’m a mess."Rizzi taps the back of my hand, a smirk t
My Neighbour's Wife 91. Susanna’s pov
I’m shown to a bedroom beside Mrs. Della Rocca’s, and I barely have a moment’s peace before I’m assaulted by an army of designers.Dress fittings. Jewelry selections. Shoes. Flowers. Colors. Styles. Over and over again, until it finally dawns on me.I’m getting married. Again.The first had been nothing at all like this. There hadn’t been any arrangements made prior and I didn’t have a choice in a single thing. Now, I am consulted about every detail. The colors for the wedding and reception dresses, as well as the designs. The jewelry—Grandmother suggested I wear something of the family heirloom when I found everything I was shown to be more than exaggerated. Shoes. The type of flowers to be used for the decoration of the yard and halls, since we’d decided on a classic romantic garden theme.Not we. His grandmother did with such glee, I couldn’t say no.I often found myself wondering if Zefiro wanted a romantic wedding. If he even had a care in the world left for me at all. Then I’d b
My Neighbour's Wife 90. Susanna’s pov
Zefiro doesn’t take the envelope. Doesn’t even look at it. And for a second—maybe longer—I panic.“I’m twelve weeks.” My voice is hoarse, shaky. “I—I didn’t know. Not at first. Thought it was just the stress from exams, my shitty diet, my lack of sleep. But when I couldn’t keep food down, Fabian dragged me to the doctor, thinking I had the flu, and…”My words taper off into nothing as Zefiro takes a slow step back, then another, before sinking into his chair. He drags both hands over his face, through his hair, down again. Lets out a shuddering breath.“There’s a deal with the Chicago Outfit.” His voice is quiet, almost to himself. “This changes everything.”And then, he’s peering at me with a well -guarded, well-controlled expression. His eyes flick down once to my belly, and his nostrils flare. “Do you want it?”It is phrased like a casual question, but I see it for what it is. Another choice. The last choice I’ll ever likely make when it comes to whatever is left of us. And because
My Neighbour's Wife 89. Susanna's pov
I went through day after day like a wraith. And before I could tell, a month had passed since the encounter. By the end of October, I have succeeded in not only failing every class woefully, but getting enough concern to get enrolled for counseling.November is the longest month. I can’t bring myself to do anything but breathe, bathe, eat, sleep and cry. By the month’s end, my clothes begin hanging off my frame awkwardly and my appetite is as dead as I feel inside.I stop calling him and leaving messages. I wouldn’t forgive me either had I been in his shoes.The loud banging on my front door rouses me from tired sleep, but I have no strength in my limbs to answer it. I draw the covers over my face and nestle back into the pillows.My room door slamming open startles me and I turn slowly at Erica’s remark. “It’s a pig’s sty in here.”The covers are thrown off my body and I voice my protest as larger arms yank me off the bed. “Put me down,” I whimper as Fabian takes me to the bathroom a
My Neighbour's Wife 88. Susanna's pov
The memories return to me in bits over the next few weeks, fueling my need to see him. To explain. To apologize. To plead. But he never returned to London, and it took an embarrassing amount of time to realize why.As the owner, it was only normal that he attended the opening ceremony. The woman who had been perched on his shoulder that night is Diana Moreau, and she will be managing Oblio Nero. He has no reason to be here, when he has other engagements elsewhere.I wasn’t enough reason for him to stay. Not anymore. Because I’ve gone and ruined everything. Again.“I can’t have children!” The words rip from my throat like something jagged and raw, something torn straight from the center of my being. I hadn’t known for a long time. Not until a couple of years into my marriage with Jaxon. He’d returned home one night, drunk and angry. I was ill and didn’t feel like being subjected to his rage. I refused and the beating had been so bad, I’d broken a rib.He’d taken me to the hospital in b
My Neighbour's Wife 87. Susanna's pov
Pain.That’s the first thing I register. A dull, insistent pounding behind my eyes, like a hammer striking against my skull. My mouth is dry, my tongue thick and heavy, the taste of last night’s recklessness still clinging to my lips.I groan, pulling the covers over my face to hide from the sunlight and I sink further into sleep. Only to be awoken by a rather violent dream…or memory.“Why the fuck not?!” Zefiro snarls, gripping my naked shoulder. “Why do you say no, still? Look me in the fucking eye while you lie to me and tell me you do not want more than this. Tell me you do not want to be my wife.”“I can’t!”“Again, why the hell not?!”“I can’t have children!”My eyes snap open and jolting up so fast causes a fresh wave of nausea curling through my stomach. What the hell?I blink past the haziness and the pain and look around at the mess in my bedroom. My bedroom. Why…how?The sheets are tangled around my legs as I fall out of bed, confused as hell, only to trip on shaky legs. I
My Neighbour's Wife 86. Susanna’s pov
The club looms ahead, sleek and dark, its golden insignia glowing under the London drizzle. Oblio Nero. A long line stretches down the sidewalk, but we don’t need to wait. Our VIP tickets see to that.“You’re insane,” Erica says, gripping Fabian’s arm tightly. “This place is insane!”The latter has barely spoken a word since I informed him of where we were going. His expression is drawn and distant, eyes darting about as if in search of something.I would normally pummel him for answers, but I can’t think past my wracking nerves and anxiety.What if this doesn’t go as planned? I don’t have a plan, even. What if things have changed? What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if the moment our eyes meet, there’s no heat or tingle? What if he’s moved on? What if…I’ve lost him?We walk through the doors, let in quickly by the bouncers outside.The bass vibrates through my ribs. The club is all shadows and golden light, the people a perfect blend of affluence and excess. Waitresses glide by i
My Neighbour's Wife 85. Susanna’s pov
A year later…and some.A tear runs down my cheek and my fingers rest atop my quivering lips. “It’s…beautiful.”Fabian peers over my shoulder. “I don’t get it. What is it?”“A visual representation of my mental state. Do you like it?” I ask, tracing the chaotic brush strokes with my fingertips. Erica, Fabian’s girlfriend chuckles, chipping away at my fries. “The project was on portraits, Susan. Mrs. Rideal’s gonna to make an example of you again.”I gesture towards the drawing. “But this is a portrait of me!”Fabian makes a face, snatching the fries from Erica. All he does lately is eat my food. “You’ve got paint in your hair.” He frowns when my phone pings multiple times. I snatch it off the stool before he can and go through my notifications.The world bleeds away, taking the sounds of Erica and Fabian smooching on my couch away with it. I feed my growing obsession with picture after picture. Cold brown eyes. Crisp navy blue tuxedo. A devastatingly ruthless smile. Confident. Arrogan
My Neighbour's Wife 84. Susanna’s pov
The club looms ahead, sleek and dark, its golden insignia glowing under the London drizzle. Oblio Nero. A long line stretches down the sidewalk, but we don’t need to wait. Our VIP tickets see to that.“You’re insane,” Erica says, gripping Fabian’s arm tightly. “This place is insane!”The latter has barely spoken a word since I informed him of where we were going. His expression is drawn and distant, eyes darting about as if in search of something.I would normally pummel him for answers, but I can’t think past my wracking nerves and anxiety.What if this doesn’t go as planned? I don’t have a plan, even. What if things have changed? What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if the moment our eyes meet, there’s no heat or tingle? What if he’s moved on? What if…I’ve lost him?We walk through the doors, let in quickly by the bouncers outside.The bass vibrates through my ribs. The club is all shadows and golden light, the people a perfect blend of affluence and excess. Waitresses glide by i
