Jessica's POV
I kept thinking about reaching out to him, maybe sending a message, but every time I picked up my phone, cowardice won. What if he just ignored me completely?
Why did I feel guilty when I hadn't done anything wrong? His father was the one who kept the contract details from him, not me. So why did I have this overwhelming need to say sorry?
Every time that expression from that day flashed through my mind, the guilt came rushing back. Yes, there was fury in his eyes, but underneath it all was something that cut deeper - raw pain. I heard it when he talked to his brother about abandoning everything he'd built here. The anguish was even more pronounced when he asked, "What would I become in Italy?"
Those words hit me like a physical blow. If I had any choice in the matter, I would have suggested we remain here in America like any ordinary married couple, but that would cost me everything I was meant to inherit.
