Maybe Someday (English)

Chapter 02

Nikita’s POV

Falling in love is beautiful. It’s intoxicating—the kind that fills your chest until you think you might burst from it. It makes the world softer, kinder… brighter.

But love, no matter how beautiful, can also be temporary. At first, you’re everything to someone. You matter. You feel chosen.

And then, in a single moment… you’re not.

Not everyone gets a happy ending with the person they loved the most. Rome and I… we were never meant to be one of the lucky ones.

Damn that bastard.

If I could peel his skin off piece by piece, I would. If I could erase him from existence, I wouldn’t hesitate. Sometimes, I wish he had never been born—so I wouldn’t have had the misfortune of meeting him.

I was nineteen when I first met Rome.

He was four years older than me. My father is a senator who introduced him. Rome used to be one of his security personnel. For a time, he became my driver. My shadow. The man who followed me everywhere.

Until something happened between us. Something that was never supposed to happen. And when we were caught… everything changed.

By then, I was already in love with him—so deeply that I would have given him everything. In my loneliness, he became my constant. My world was small and controlled. My father was strict, and I never really had friends. People kept their distance. Not because of who I was, but because of who my family was.

That was the price of carrying our name.

So when Rome stepped into my life… I held on. Too tightly.

Getting pregnant at twenty turned my life into a scandal. Our family name was known. Every move I made became public conversation. Every mistake, magnified. My brother beat Rome senseless when he found out. And only then—only when there was no turning back, Rome finally make things official between us.

He took responsibility. He did everything expected of him. Two months later, we got married.

I stopped studying for a while, only to continue after giving birth. My father cut me off completely—my allowance, my privileges, even the cards he gave me were taken back by my brother.

It felt like I had been stripped of my place in the family. But I endured.

I had savings—money I secretly kept with my older sister. Rome had work. We managed. And despite everything… I never once regretted having my children.

Not even when my marriage fell apart. I just… don’t know when it started breaking.

One day, I woke up, and he was different. Colder. Distant.

Like something inside him had already left. I accused him of cheating. And I was right. He had a first love. Someone he had been seeing behind my back.

I didn’t even know she existed. That’s when I realized— I never truly knew him at all.

What chance did I have… against someone he had loved for over a decade? Compared to me— the woman he only married because I was carrying his child.

Damn it. I was such a fool. I loved him too much. Blindly. Completely.

In the end, my sister handled our case. Being a judge made things… efficient. Our marriage was annulled faster than most.

We’ve been separated for two years now.

And I’m still bitter.

At this point, bitterness feels like something I consume daily—like it’s become part of my system. Good thing I have my triplets. They are my light. My peace. My reason to keep going.…even if they drive me crazy sometimes.

Because no matter what, they love their father more. “Daddy this,” “Daddy that.”

They always ask why Rome doesn’t live with us anymore. Why there’s someone named Irish in his life now. Why she’s the one beside him.

I try to explain. But they don’t understand. They’re too young.

Rome still sees them. He picks them up, spends time with them. The only thing the boys complain about is Irish. They don’t like her. But I’ve met her. And truthfully… there’s nothing to hate.

Irish is kind. Beautiful. Graceful. It’s no wonder Rome fell for her.

I don’t think I failed him. I gave him everything I could. Maybe… too much.

I loved him the only way I knew how—whole, unwavering, and patient. Even when he was distant, I made excuses for him. Even when he never said “I love you,” I accepted it—because I thought I could see it in his actions.

I thought that was enough. I was wrong. The day he told me about Irish. It shattered me. When he said she was his home— I felt like the ground swallowed me whole.

Because while he was with me… he was thinking of her.

I was just responsibility. Something he had to take care of.

I mattered, but not the way she did.

Damn him. He dragged it out for six years. Six years. If he had told me from the beginning, I would have accepted it. I would have let him go.

But no— he stayed. We got married. Built a life. Raised children. And only then did he decide to tell me the truth.

So no… I don’t know if I can ever forgive him. The pain he left behind— it runs too deep.

“What are you doing here?”

The baritone voice cut through my thoughts. I looked up sharply, immediately locking my phone. And there he was.

Rome Donovan. Standing like he owned the air around him.

He wasn’t in his usual uniform. Instead, he wore black pants, a button-down polo, and sneakers—casual, effortless.

Annoyingly handsome. I rolled my eyes when I realized I had been staring too long.

Yes, he’s good-looking. But he’s still a jerk. That part will never change.

“The audacity to ask me that,” I scoffed. “I’m standing on my own property.”

My gaze hardened as I crossed my arms.

He didn’t even react.

“I want to see the boys,” he said flatly, his attention already drifting past me toward the house behind.

I let out a sarcastic gasp. “Oh, wow. You finally remembered them?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Seriously, Nikita? Every time I come here for our children—”

“Your children. My children. There is no ‘our.’ There is no ‘us,’” I cut in sharply.

He gave a small nod. “Fine.”

His eyes flicked over my outfit, and I immediately tightened my arms across my chest.

Excuse me? Is he seriously checking me out?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I snapped.

One brow lifted. “Where are you going?” he asked, voice unreadable.

I placed my hands on my hips, glaring at him. “Why? Are you suddenly concerned about me now? What did you eat today, you i***t—”

“Yuck, Nikita Amber,” he cut in dryly. “You should hear yourself.”

My eyes widened. I pointed at him furiously. “Rome Donovan! Don’t act disgusted like you didn’t worship this body before! You were practically calling on saints and angels every time we—mmph!”

I didn’t get to finish. He shoved tissue into my mouth. Fast. Annoyingly fast.

I yanked it out and threw it at him. “You jerk!”

“Your mouth is filthy,” he muttered, brushing past me like I was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Rome! Idiots aren’t allowed inside my house! Get back here!” I shouted.

He didn’t even turn around. Just raised a hand in dismissal as he walked inside.

I stared after him, fuming.

Unbelievable.

Still a jerk.

Always will be.