Bernadette, Wife For A Year

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Julian's POV

The next day, when I woke up, it was seven in the morning. Bernadette was nowhere in the room. 

Taking a quick shower, I padded downstairs to see Bernadette and dad working in the kitchen. Mom was sitting on one of the kitchen stools. 

“Seems like dad has found his new cooking partner,” I whispered to my mom. 

“An efficient one, I must say,” she said. 

Bernadette very gracefully moved around the kitchen. She was wearing a knee-length peach-coloured dress. I knew she was aware that I was in the kitchen but still hadn't spared me a glance. And here I was shamelessly staring at her.

“I know she is beautiful but you must stop starting. You are making her conscious,” I heard my mom say. Surely when I looked carefully, my wife was blushing as she sliced the fruits. 

“Come on, mom cut me some slack. She is my wife now,” I said and continued staring. Dad had cooked Calico pepper frittata while Bernadette had prepared Tiramisu Crepes.

“They look so fucking mouth-watering,” I let out. They were simply delicious as hell. I noticed my wife made a point to always pray before meals.

“Julian and I are meeting the Moretti's over lunch today. See you in the evening honey,” my dad said, leaning down to kiss mom's cheeks.

“See you in the evening, wifey,” I leaned down to plant a kiss on my wife's forehead. In no time her face turned scarlet. Cute.

“Bye,” came her sweet voice.

The whole drive to the office passed in a blur. I was too engrossed in vivid thoughts.

Nicolina was out of my life for good. I was stupid to have been able to pick up the red flags from the very beginning. I frantically shook my head trying to get rid of anything related to Nicolina. I couldn't think about her anymore. She was my past, an ugly chapter in my life. 

Bernadette's my present now, the only one that matters now. It was only my parents, wife and work now.

“Is something bothering you, son?” Dad asked, he was very good at reading people. I shook my head, “No.”

“Let me know if something ever troubles you. No matter how old you get, you will still be my son,” he said just the way he used to while dropping me off at university after the holidays. 

He patted my back before walking into his office. My cabin was a floor above him.

“Good morning, Mr Robustelli. Boardroom 2 is ready. The Atkinson-James are on their way. They will be here in 20 minutes,” my assistant Anna said in her usual robotic 

voice. She placed a cup of coffee on my desk. Anna has been my assistant for five years now. 

“Good morning, Anna and thank you for the coffee.”

“Of course,” with that, she left my cabin. While going through the files, a notification popped up on my screen. It was a message from the private investigator my dad had hired. 

'Nicolina and Dylan just checked out of their suite at the Royals. Dylan looked frantic while Nicolina was in tears.' It read. 

A baleful smile took over my face. It wasn't far when Dylan Parker and Nicolina Miller would watch well-planned efforts go fruitless. There was nothing more comforting than to watch your rival fall face on.

The game had just begun. There was more to come their way. 

I tapped the end of the pen on the desk. The Atkinson's were here. We were discussing our upcoming project. Across from me was sitting Damien Atkinson. One of the co-CEOs of the Atkinson-James Empire. He was known in the corporate world for being the ice king. A trait we shared. He got married five months ago. No one knew who his wife was. The Atkinson-James and the James were one of our biggest clients. The man sitting in front of me was a mystery. 

I met him outside the conference room right after the meeting. “Congratulations on your wedding,” he said, extending his hand. “Thank you.” I smiled as the smiling face of Bernadette popped up.

“I wish to see you as the next CEO,” he said and that caught my heed. 

“I never liked that Dylan guy,” he added to which I smiled.

“Feelings are mutual,” I said. 

I was about to leave for lunch when the door to my cabin burst open. 

“Fucking hell,” I muttered under my breath. There stood Nicolina Miller in one of the shortest and skimpiest dresses. Those dresses once used to have an effect on me. But now, I feel nothing. 

“How could you do this to me, Julian? I loved you. How could you marry some random young bitch?” Nicolina yelled out, throwing her purse at me. I dodged it by inches. 

“Enough of this shit!” I roared. I was done with this woman. 

“Call my wife bitch again and you won't see the next Sun,” her eyes went wide at my words. 

“Take it as your first and last warning, Nicolina Miller, you are not allowed in my office anymore,” I threw her purse directly towards the door. 

“Now get out!” 

“Julian, how could you marry someone else? I thought what we had was forever,” somehow she managed to shed crocodile tears. Her tears didn't affect me anymore. 

“Are you high on something, Miss Miller? As far as I remember, it was you who sent me that sorry excuse of a breakup text just two weeks before the wedding. Thank God, I didn't marry a pathetic woman like you,” I said, and she continued shedding those insincere tears. 

“Let me explain, Julian. I was experiencing cold feet and in a haste, I sent you that text,” she skillfully lied. Only if she knew that I knew what was behind those fake tears and lies.

“You sure it was just cold feet and not you fucking my cousin behind my back? Or giving him those confidential affidavits.” Her eyes went wide with horror and shock written all over her face. 

“You knew?” She whispered. 

“Get out Nicolina. I don't want to see your face again,” I let out emotionlessly because the woman in front of me didn't deserve any emotion from me. She had deceived and cheated me in the worst way possible. She had made me feel hopeless and heartbroken. 

I had seen red flags at an early stage of our relationship but I chose to ignore them. 

Nevertheless, I was happy and content with my life now, life had blessed me with Bernadette and almost everything that I was on the verge of losing. My wife was my forever after. 

Nicolina picked up her purse and at that moment the ring on her finger caught my sight. 

“Wait,” I walked over to her. 

“With this, we have no relationship with each other. This ugly relationship ends here. You don't deserve this closure but my wife does,” I said, slipping out the ring from her finger.

Bernadette deserved to know that I had properly ended my relationship with Nicolina. 

“Who is this unknown girl you married anyway?” She asked. 

“An Independent girl with a golden heart. The most beautiful soul. She is Bernadette Arpina Robustelli.” 

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