He Protected My Baby’s Killer So I Left Him Chapter 03
In the end, it was the moving company that got the door open for me.
I showed building management the purchase agreements and payment records, explaining I was only there to retrieve my personal property.
Leo’s expression was cold the entire time.
“Must you make this so difficult?”
I ignored him.
More than a dozen boxes were stacked in the living room.
Each one was neatly labeled.
Marco, always the most efficient of the four, emerged from the nursery with a roll of packing tape.
When I traveled for work, he would look after Toast and arrange the groceries I bought in the fridge by expiration date.
And now, he had just as efficiently erased me from this home.
“Your things are all packed.”
I pushed open the door to the nursery.
It was completely transformed.
The crib was gone.
The cloud-shaped wall light had been taken down.
The closet full of baby clothes, none of them ever worn, was empty.
Isabella’s easel stood by the window.
Her suitcase lay open, her dresses hanging in the closet that had once been for the baby.
On the desk sat a framed photo of her with the four men.
They were celebrating her birthday.
Matteo stood behind her, his head lowered as he fastened a necklace around her neck.
I stared at the picture.
“Where are the baby’s things?”
No one answered.
I turned to face them.
Marco looked away.
“Leaving them here would just be a painful reminder for you,” he said. “So I took care of it.”
A low buzz filled my ears.
“How did you take care of it?”
“I threw them out.”
I turned and ran for the stairs.
The large bins in the building’s trash room were empty.
The collection truck had just pulled away, leaving nothing but a dark, wet smear on the concrete.
I chased it down the street.
A sharp pain pulled at my incision.
Leo was shouting my name behind me, but I didn’t stop.
Not until I saw a pale yellow baby sock on the side of the road.
It was gray with grime and flattened by a tire, the shape barely recognizable.
I crouched down and picked it up.
A few crooked words were embroidered on the cuff.
Our Little Star.
It was the first gift the four of them had bought together after I got pregnant.
That day, they’d crowded around me, fighting over who would be the godfather.
And now they were the ones who had thrown it all in the trash.
Isabella had followed us downstairs, her eyes red-rimmed.
“I didn’t know that was the baby’s room.”
“If it bothers you, I can move out.”
The moment she finished, Marco stepped in front of her.
“This has nothing to do with you.”
He turned to me.
“The room was already empty. Were we supposed to leave everything there forever and make everyone miserable?”
I clenched the sock in my hand.
“Who threw it out?”
Marco didn’t answer.
I asked again.
“Who threw it out?”
“We all decided together.”
“If you want to blame someone, blame me. Don’t take it out on Bella.”
I nodded slowly.
“Fine.”
“I’ll remember that.”
The movers carried the boxes downstairs one by one.
I took only my documents, my medication, and Toast.
Just as the last box was loaded, Matteo rushed back.
When he saw the half-empty walk-in closet, his face changed.
“Where are you going?”
“A hotel.”
He pulled a new key from his pocket.
“The fingerprint lock was changed for Isabella’s safety. It’s temporary.”
“Here’s the spare.”
“Once this is all dealt with, this will still be your home.”
I held out my hand.
Matteo must have thought I was going to take it, because his expression softened.
The key dropped into my palm.
The next second, I tossed it into the trash can by the door.
“If my cat can’t get in, it’s not my home.”
“And if my baby’s things couldn’t stay, it’s not my home, either.”
Matteo reached for me.
I stepped back, clutching Toast.
His hand closed on empty air.
In ten years, it was the first time I had ever pulled away from him, and the first time I didn’t wait for him to follow.