I cleared my throat. “Zaldy,” I said quietly, “what would you think if I pursued my master’s degree in Italy?”
He waved a dismissive hand without looking up. “Do whatever you want.”
I steadied myself. “And if I’ll be gone long-term…should we dissolve this arrangement?”
For the briefest moment, I hoped he would react—question me, object, feel something.
He didn’t.
“That’s fine,” he muttered, still scrolling.
Relief and heartbreak collided in my chest. The truth was undeniable now. I had never mattered.
He hadn’t noticed when I stopped managing his schedule, preparing his suits, or handling his personal affairs. I’d quietly passed those responsibilities to the household staff, and he never questioned it.
“Very well,” I said, standing. My plate remained untouched. Hunger had abandoned me entirely.
My gaze fell on his phone just as a notification lit up the screen. The contact name glowed unmistakably.
The name burned into me. Every ounce of his loyalty, his attention, his devotion—it all belonged to her.
The phone rang. He answered instantly.
“I’ll be there shortly,” he said, his tone obedient, gentle, unwavering.
I smiled bitterly.