He had never actually deluded himself into thinking he would live until his non-existent hair was grey anyway.
Valentina's face rose in his mind.
His Valentina.
He pressed two fingers against his eyes and breathed through it then started out of his room. He didn't plan on telling Carol, because God help him, the woman would throw him in jail just to keep him alive.
Once Marco reached the ground floor, he paused near the staircase and looked back up. He thought about leaving Carol a note.
In the end, he decided against it. He would send her a text once he had boarded the flight. At least from the safety of an aircraft, there would be no risk of Carol blocking the door, or sedating him.
Marco stepped into the kitchen for a bottle of water. The house was quiet and peaceful. He opened the fridge, took a bottle of water, and started to leave.
Then the floor lamp in the living room came on. Marco stopped and turned. Carol was lying on the sofa.
