Six months later, a court summons from home arrived in Milan. The divorce lawsuit I'd filed finally had a court date. I asked Anna for time off and flew back. The moment my feet touched familiar ground again, I felt surprisingly calm.
I met Jack in the mediation room right before the hearing. We hadn't seen each other in six months, and he looked like he'd aged ten years. Gray hair had sprouted at his temples, his shoulders were hunched, and there was no trace left of the sharp, confident CEO I had once known. He sat across from the mediator, both hands flat on the table.
My gaze drifted to his hands, and I paused for a split second. All ten fingers were covered in tiny, raw cuts, some crusted over with dark scabs. It was gruesome.
Jack caught me staring and immediately pulled his hands
