Shattered vows

Episode4

I couldn't take my eyes off her.

From the moment Bella walked into the gala, the entire room seemed to dim around her. That green dress. The way she moved confident, head high, laughing with people like she didn't have a care in the world. Like the last six months hadn't ripped her apart.

Because they'd ripped me apart.

I stood there with a scotch I hadn't touched, watching her from across the ballroom. Investors were talking at me something about stock projections but I didn't hear a word. All I saw was my wife. Ex-wife, technically. The papers were almost final.

She looked... incredible. Stronger. Glowed in a way she hadn't in years. And it killed me that I hadn't been the one to put that light back in her eyes.

When she stepped out onto the balcony, I followed without thinking. Like some invisible string still tied me to her.

The second she turned and saw me, that wall slammed up. Cold. Hard. Deserved.

But hearing her voice sharp, steady, done with me gutted me all over again.

I'd rehearsed a thousand apologies in my head. In therapy. In the mirror at 3 a.m. when I couldn't sleep. But standing there, all I could get out was the truth.

I was sorry.

Not just for the affair. For everything.

For working too much the last year of our marriage. For letting stress turn me into someone who made the worst mistake of his life. For believing Sophia when she said it "didn't mean anything." For not fighting harder the night Bella caught us.

For letting her walk away thinking she wasn't enough.

Because she was everything.

After she left me on the balcony walked away without looking back I stayed out there a long time. Staring at the city we used to love together.

I hadn't been with anyone since her. Couldn't even think about it. Every date my assistant tried to set up, every "concerned" friend pushing me to "move on"I shut it down. How do you move on from the love of your life when you're the one who destroyed it?

Therapy helped. Barely.

Dr. Ellis made me dig into why I'd done it. Childhood stuff dad leaving when I was ten, mom working three jobs, always feeling like I had to earn love by being successful. By the time Knight Tech took off, I was married to the job more than to Bella. Sophia fed into that late nights "working," compliments when I felt like I was failing at home.

It wasn't an excuse. It was an explanation. And it didn't make it any less disgusting.

I fired Sophia the morning after Bella left. Paid out her severance just to get her gone. She tried calling, texting, showing up at the office crying. I had security escort her out. Last I heard, she'd moved to New York. Good riddance.

The penthouse was a ghost town. I'd sold half our furniture because I couldn't stand looking at it. Slept in the guest room because our bed smelled like her for weeks after she left. Still did, in my head.

I kept tabs on Bella not in a creepy way. Mutual friends. Industry events. Seeing her business take off... it hurt and healed at the same time. She was doing amazing without me.

But I couldn't let go.

Not yet.

A week after the gala, I was in my office late again when my assistant buzzed.

"Mr. Knight? There's a package for you. No return address."

I frowned. Opened it at my desk.

Inside was a small envelope and something wrapped in tissue.

My heart stopped.

It was Bella's wedding ring. The ones she'd left on the dresser that night.

The envelope held a single sheet of official divorce settlement papers. Final signatures needed.

And a Post-it in her handwriting:

Please sign and send back through your lawyer. Let's end this cleanly.

My chest caved in.

I stared at those rings for a long time. The simple platinum band I'd slipped on her finger three years ago. The diamond I'd spent months picking out because it had to be perfect for her.

I'd lost the right to call her mine.

But God, I wanted it back.

I picked up my phone and texted the one person who might still talk to me about her—Mia. Bella's sister had hated me since the day it happened, but she'd answered once or twice when I asked if Bella was okay.

Me: Did she seem happy at the gala?

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Mia: She's doing great. Better than you deserve to know.

Me: I know. I just... I need to make this right.

Mia: You can't. Some things you don't get to fix, Alex.

I set the phone down. Stared at the rings.

Mia was right.

But I wasn't ready to sign those papers.

Not without fighting one more time.

Because losing Bella forever?

That wasn't an option.

Even if she hated me for it

Eight months post-divorce, and life was... good.

Really good.

My design firm, Rossi Interiors, had exploded. What started as a side hustle was now a full team: me, two junior designers, and an assistant who kept the chaos organized. We'd just landed a contract to redesign the lobby and executive suites for a major hotel chain downtown. My name was getting mentioned in industry magazines. Invites to panels, guest spots on design podcasts. People wanted me.

And for the first time, I wanted me too.

I'd moved out of Mia's place into my own apartment sunny, open-concept, every corner styled exactly how I liked it. Plants everywhere. Art on the walls that made me happy. A king bed I didn't have to share with ghosts.

Dating? Casual. A few dinners, one guy who lasted a month. Nothing serious. I wasn't ready for that yet. Maybe I never would be.

But I was happy. Or at least, content.

Until the email showed up.

It was a Thursday morning, coffee in hand, scrolling through my inbox at the office.

Subject: Collaboration Opportunity Knight Tech HQ Redesign

Sender: Alexander Knight

My stomach dropped.

I opened it anyway.

Dear Ms. Rossi,

I hope this email finds you well. Knight Tech is planning a full headquarters renovation next quarter and your name came up repeatedly as the top choice for the project. Your recent work speaks for itself. I'd like to discuss the possibility of bringing you on board.

If you're open to it, I can have my team set up a formal pitch meeting. No pressure—just business.

Best regards,

Alexander Knight

CEO, Knight Tech

Just business.

I stared at the screen for a full minute.

Part of me wanted to delete it. Block his email. Tell him to find someone else.

But the bigger part the professional, ambitious part saw the opportunity. Knight Tech's headquarters was iconic. Redesigning it would be career-defining. Magazine covers. Awards. The kind of project that puts you on a whole new level.

And I wasn't about to let Alex take that from me too.

I typed back before I could overthink it.

Mr. Knight,

Thank you for the inquiry. I'm interested in discussing the project. Please have your team reach out to my assistant to schedule a pitch meeting.

Regards,

Isabella Rossi

Professional. Cold. Done.

His reply came within minutes.

Will do. Looking forward to it.

I closed my laptop and exhaled.

The pitch meeting was set for the following week neutral ground, a conference room at the hotel chain's offices, not his building. My team prepped like crazy. Mood boards, 3D renderings, sustainability plans. We were ready.

The day of the meeting, I wore my power suit tailored black blazer, silk blouse, heels that clicked with authority. Hair sleek, makeup sharp. Armor on.

Alex was already there when we arrived, sitting at the head of the table with two executives. He stood when I walked in.

"Bella," he said quietly. Then caught himself. "Ms. Rossi. Thank you for coming."

The executives greeted me warmly clearly fans of my work. Alex stayed professional the whole time. Asked smart questions. Nodded at the right moments. Didn't push.

My presentation killed him. The executives were sold halfway through. By the end, they were shaking my hand, talking timelines.

As everyone filed out, Alex lingered.

"That was impressive," he said once we were alone. "Really" You're incredible at this."

"Thanks." I packed up my tablet. "It's a great project. My team's excited."

He nodded, hands in his pockets. "I meant what I said in the email. Just business. I won't... complicate things."

I met his eyes. "Good. Because I'm not here for anything else."

He flinched slightly but didn't argue.

"I heard about the hotel chain contract," he said. "Congratulations."

"You keeping tabs on me?"

"Hard not to. You're everywhere." A small, sad smile. "And you deserve it."

I didn't respond. Just slung my bag over my shoulder.

"Bella" He stepped closer. "I'm proud of you. Even if I don't have the right to say it."

I paused at the door. "You don't."

Then I walked out.

But as I rode the elevator down, something shifted.

Not forgiveness. Not even close.

But maybe... closure starting to creep in.

Or maybe it was just the thrill of knowing I'd beaten him at his own game—on my terms, in his world.

Either way, for the first time in months, seeing him didn't destroy me.

It made me feel stronger.

And that scared me a little.

Because strength like this? It had a way of cracking open doors you thought you'd bolted shut