Chapter 95

In Miguel's memory, Enrica had always worn loungewear—plain, unkempt, always at home scrubbing the floors or cooking something. She had that constant dusty, dull aura around her. Head down, soft-spoken, and nothing that stood out. But at that moment, Enrica almost looked like she was glowing. She stood there, calm and poised, looking straight at him—not meek, not aggressive, just quietly confident. The kind of confidence that didn't need to prove anything. And suddenly, it hit him. That was what she was like when he first met her. Back then, she was already in a leadership role, managing a whole team. But later, she resigned and became a full-time housewife, and gradually, her sharp edges faded away. He didn't dwell on the memory too long, but the thought left a hollow pang in his chest. The truth was, he hadn't been completely indifferent to her. When they got married, he had planned to spend the rest of his life with her. It was too bad she couldn't hold onto him. Snapping out