A Heart in Ruins Chapter 11

Vittorio’s chest heaved violently, a suffocating tightness gripping his lungs. He choked on his own breath, leaving him momentarily speechless.

I looked at him without emotion, “Vittorio, if my love for you was worth a hundred points, you have deducted every single one of them over these years.”

I began listing off all his wrongdoings in detail, “You took fancy to Silvia, yet tricked me into marrying you. You abandoned me on my birthday to go shopping with her. When I had a high fever, you were out picking a birthday gift for her. Silvia smashed my head with a wine bottle, but you just grounded her for a day. She cut my hair and slapped me, yet you shielded her…

My words carved into his heart like a sharp blade. “Tell me, Vittorio. How many points do you actually think you’l have left?”

I continued. “Now, all your points have been deducted. There is no longer any trace of you left in my world.”

Vittorio’s breathing grew ragged, his fingertips trembling unconsciously.

“I know I neglected you in the past. It was my fault.” He rasped, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I can make a difference…can make it up to you. But you shouldn’t just find someone else to make me jealous.”

He reached out, his hand shaking as he tried to pull me toward him. “Come back with me. Give me a chance please.”

Taking a step back, I dodged his grasp, “I’m not trying to make you jealous, Vittorio. I genuinely love Dante.”

“I don’t believe it!” Vittorio’s eyes turned icy.

“Sylvia!” He lunged forward, grabbing her wrist with bruising force. “Come back with me… we can start over.”

This time, I didn’t even fight back. I just looked at his furious face and let out a long, weary sigh.

“Vittorio, haven’t you realized? When I was with Dante, I was still myself-Sylvia Cross. But when I loved you…”

I paused, my eyes reflecting a deep sorrow. “I was no longer myself.”

Vittorio dug his fingertips into his palms until his nails broke the skin, blood seeping through his tightly clenched fist. “Just give me one more chance…one more chance, please.”

“Just go back.” I stood up coolly, pulling my wrist from his grasp. “This is the last time I will ever see you. From now on, I truly never want to lay eyes on you again.”

Dante chimed in softly, “Sylvia, it’s time to try on your wedding dress.”

He slipped his hand into mine, and led my away without a backward glance.

Watching my retreating figure, Vittorio suddenly thought of the Buddha statue in the ancestral hall, its surface blackened by incense smoke for ages.

It hit him that the unrequited longing was exactly the punishment the Buddha had bestowed upon him for his sins.

A week later, Vittorio stood beneath the sprawling branches of an old sycamore tree outside the church. Inside, a red carpet was strewn with crimson roses, and guests raised champagne glasses to toast the newlyweds. He remained in the shadows, watching as the bride stepped into the hall.

As the Wedding March began to play, a forgotten memory suddenly surfaced in his mind. He was suddenly

reminded of the scene that Sylvia had stolen a kiss from him. She had stood on her tiptoes, her lips brushing against his face like a butterfly, leaving behind a string of silver-bell-like laughter before running away with flushed cheeks.

Now, that laughter now goes to someone else. And as the church doors closed, Vittorio knew he had lost Sylvia forever.