Through the bathroom door, I could hear the soft tap of his thumbs on the phone.

Faint, but somehow crystal clear.

Now and then a snatch of word sent through the channels leaked through.

I didn't have to guess. The person on the other end was Sabrina.

We'd fought about this once, actually.

Back then I asked him why he never opened the words I sent through the Family's channels, but answered every single one of Sabrina's, one after another.

He thought I was making a scene over nothing.

"I'm with you every single day. What could be so urgent it has to be put down in writing?"

"If it's an emergency, just call me. If it isn't, we can talk when I'm back at the safehouse, can't we?"

"Sabrina's different. We don't see each other every day, so of course it's normal to talk."

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The logic fit together without a single gap.

Fit together so tightly it stuffed every bit of my hurt and resentment right back down my throat.

So after that, I never brought it up again.

But standing here, listening to the alerts go off over and over inside the bathroom, I suddenly found it almost funny.

So it wasn't that he had no time to reply.

It wasn't that he didn't like talking.

The person he talked with just wasn't me.

I closed my eyes for a moment, turned, and went back to the bedroom.

By the time I came out again, Lorenzo was already sitting at the dining table, eating.

A single container sat on the table.

Just one.

I stood there, blank for a couple of seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"Why did you only order one?"

His fork paused mid-air. He looked up at me.

"Huh?"

"Did you want some?"

He said it so naturally, even with a touch of confusion.

"I figured you were watching your weight these days, for the alliance ceremony."

Then he dropped his eyes back to his phone.

From start to finish, he never once really looked at me.

If he'd only lifted his head.

He would have seen my eyes, red around the rims.

But he didn't.

My fingers slowly curled in.

"Lorenzo, let's talk."

I pulled out a chair and sat down.

But the moment the chair scraped against the floor, Lorenzo was already on his feet.

"No time."

"Sabrina and I are gaming."

With that, he picked up his water glass and headed straight for the study.

Leaving the container on the table.

Leaving the chair I'd pulled out.

Leaving me sitting there.

The instant the door shut, my chest clamped up, hard.

Like someone had pressed a plastic bag over my mouth and nose.

Even breathing was a struggle.

Before long, the sound of their voice chat drifted out of the study.

The door hadn't shut all the way.

Their conversation came through clearly.

"Lorenzo, are you interested in that new movie that just came out? I've been dying to see it."

There was a smile in Sabrina's voice.

The next second, Lorenzo spoke.

"I knew you'd like it."

"I already bought the tickets. I'll take you tomorrow."

Sabrina laughed out loud right away, the sound coming a half-second too fast, too bright.

"You really are the most thoughtful."

"I only heard a man mention it today, figured I'd surprise you."

A surprise.

Sitting in the front room of the safehouse, I went a little numb.

So Lorenzo wasn't incapable of planning a surprise.

It wasn't that his memory was bad.

It was just that all that patience, that thoughtfulness, that care had never once landed on me.

For Sabrina, he always remembered what she liked.

Always had time for her.

Always willing to take a passing remark to heart.

And for me, there was only ever one line:

"She's a friend, you're my promised bride. How could it be the same?"

The thought of it made me laugh.

Laugh until I nearly cried.

Lorenzo.

If being your bride is this exhausting.

Then I really would be better off as your friend.

The next second.

I drew back my foot and kicked the study door open.

"BANG—"

The crash made Lorenzo whip around.

Almost on reflex, he clapped a hand over his headset mic, frowning at me.

His eyes full of confusion.

"What's wrong?"

I stared at him and bit out every word.

"The dress fitting's tomorrow. Did you forget?"

My voice came out colder than I'd expected.

Lorenzo blinked.

Then a hint of difficulty crossed his face. He went very still, his thumb pressing slow against the heel of his palm.

"I already made plans with Sabrina to see a movie tomorrow."

"The tickets are bought."

He paused, then quickly produced a solution.

"How about you go try on the dress first, by yourself?"

"I wouldn't be much help there anyway. Or you could ask Gianna to come with you?"

A few short seconds.

The reason, the excuse, the alternative.

He'd worked it all out.

It was just that, from beginning to end, canceling the movie had never crossed his mind.

Going with his future bride to try on the dress for the alliance ceremony didn't matter.

Going to a movie with Sabrina mattered more.

I looked at him and slowly shook my head.

"No."

His expression shifted.

Through his headset, Sabrina kept urging him on.

The game had already started its countdown.

His brows drew tighter and tighter.

"Adriana."

"Am I not allowed to have plans of my own?"

"Once the families are bound I have to revolve around you all day, every day?"

That line nearly made me laugh out of sheer anger.

Revolve around me?

When had Lorenzo ever revolved around me?

No word from him while he handled the Family's business.

Buried in his game once the day was done.

Every last detail of arranging this alliance ceremony, dozens of them, I'd handled alone.

The venue, the guest list, the planner, the dress, the photography.

He hadn't even come with me once to choose the rings.

His schedule was always packed full.

It was just that whatever spilled over had never belonged to me.

I looked at him, and a bone-deep weariness washed over me.

There was no point in arguing.

No point in explaining either.

So I only asked him, quietly:

"Lorenzo."

"Is this alliance mine alone?"

By the time the words were out, all that was left in my voice was exhaustion.

"Making a scene."

He dropped those three words, slid his headset back on, and turned back to his game without a glance. As if the argument hadn't been worth a single second of his attention.

A moment later, Sabrina's voice came through the headset.

"It's up, it's up, get in the lobby!"

Lorenzo gave a soft laugh.

"Women. Always so much trouble."

"Sabrina, whenever you get married, don't ever be like this."

The words had barely left him when a bright, bell-like laugh rang out on the other end. I stood where I was, cold all over.

Lorenzo and I had met young, back when the families still drank together at the old neighborhood haunt, before the alliance was ever spoken aloud. When we were first promised to each other, he did love me, truly. He'd walk the long corridors of the estate with me at night, remember which back-street vendor sold the espresso I liked, ride an hour out past Marchetti territory just to take me somewhere I wanted to see.

Back then he didn't say much, but he was attentive.

Later I complained that he never answered my words sent through the channels. He said:

"I don't like talking."

"Typing's a hassle, listening to messages is a hassle too."

"I'm like this with everyone."

So I believed him. I even made excuses for him. That was just how he was; it didn't mean he didn't care about me.

But later I found out. Some words can't survive being put to the test.

Because Lorenzo listened to every single message Sabrina sent. He'd reach out to her on his own at two in the morning when he couldn't sleep. He remembered what games she was into lately, what films she was watching, what she wanted to eat. Their record of words ran on and on. More, even, than everything that had ever passed between Lorenzo and me in all our promised years.

And wherever Sabrina surfaced, in whatever quiet corner of the Family's circles, you'd always find Lorenzo somewhere near. Almost every time, he was there.

And me? He had never once reached out to me first.

It felt like I'd swallowed a needle. Most of the time I couldn't feel it. But every breath carried a dull, hidden ache.

That night, Lorenzo didn't come back to the bedroom. He stayed in the study all night long, lost in the screen's glow.

The next morning, before I left, I set a note on the dining table.

【See you at the salon for the alliance ceremony.】

【There's something I want to talk to you about.】

He could skip the messages. He could ignore the words sent through the channels. A note, surely, he couldn't fail to see.

Some people aren't blind in the eyes. They're blind in the heart.

At the salon where the ceremony gowns were fitted, I sat from morning until dusk. The cup of hot water in front of me went cold and was refilled, refilled and went cold again.

One couple after another came in laughing. One man held up the hem of his bride's gown. One crouched on the polished floor straightening a train of silk. One held up his phone for photos, telling her how beautiful she looked today.

And beside me, the seat stayed empty.

By the third time a girl came to refill my water, she couldn't quite hide the awkwardness on her face.

"Miss Falcone……"

"We're about to close for the day."

She didn't finish. But I understood. That unspoken pity was harder to bear than any comfort.

I left the salon alone.

On the way back, I kept opening the trail Sabrina left behind her. The newest word had gone out half an hour earlier.

【Oh yeah, made it! Checked in!】

The photo was of the big screen inside a theater. In the bottom left corner, a familiar hand threw up two fingers. Long fingers, a ring on the ring finger. I knew it at a glance.

That was Lorenzo.

In that moment, I almost found it funny.

So while I was sitting in the salon waiting for him, he was off watching a film with someone else.

If slipping back into the safehouse the union had given us had only been one more chance I was giving Lorenzo, then this was the moment I should truly give up.

When I reached the foot of our building, I happened to glance toward the corner of the street. In the little place we used to go to so often, two familiar people were sitting.

Lorenzo had his back to the door. Sabrina sat across from him, talking about something with her whole face lit up. She was laughing, delighted. And Lorenzo was laughing too.

Just like the way he used to be when he talked with me.

Then Sabrina noticed me first. The smile froze on her face.

"Adriana?"

Lorenzo turned, following her gaze. The instant our eyes met, the air seemed to set solid. All around us the place was still loud with voices. But between the three of us hung a strange, nameless awkwardness, the kind of silence that falls in a room when someone reaches for a weapon nobody can see.

"Adriana, come sit!"

Sabrina quickly pulled out the chair beside her. I didn't refuse. I sat down slowly.

"Adriana, how did the fitting go today?"

She was trying hard to find something to say. But the moment the words came out, the air only grew stiffer. She tucked her hair behind her ear, then again, the second time too quick.

Lorenzo's hand, holding a skewer, visibly paused.

Before I could answer, he suddenly raised his voice.

"Waiter!"

"Thirty more beef skewers, ten pork, and add a mango smoothie."

I knew. He felt guilty. This was his way of making peace. A pity it was too late.

Before long the smoothie arrived. The weather was too hot; the ice had already started to melt. Lorenzo pushed it in front of me.

"Go on, eat it."

"It'll melt if you wait any longer."

I lowered my eyes, glanced at it, and didn't move.

Lorenzo frowned. "Isn't mango smoothie your favorite?"

The words landed. And Sabrina suddenly laughed out loud, a half-second too fast, too bright.

"You idiot. The one who likes mango smoothie is me."

The air went quiet at once.

Lorenzo froze. He went completely still, his thumb pressing into the heel of his palm. The awkwardness on his face came up plain to see.

"Sorry……"

He scratched the back of his head without thinking. "I got it mixed up."

I looked at him quietly, saying nothing.

The truth was he hadn't mixed it up. He had simply never remembered in the first place.

Because all these years, the one who ate with him was me. The one who did the ordering was me too. He'd never had to bother remembering what I liked.

So he didn't know. My favorite was strawberry milkshake.

He didn't know either. That I was severely allergic to mango.

I lowered my head. And under the two of them watching, I slowly scooped up a spoonful of the mango smoothie. And put it in my mouth.

That glass of mango smoothie, I drank it down swallow after swallow, every last drop of it.

Lorenzo sat across from me, on the verge of saying something, then swallowing it back.

But right up to the end, he never remembered.

Never remembered that I was allergic to mango.

And he certainly never remembered the night I'd accidentally eaten a dessert with mango folded into it and ended up half-dead before dawn, with him sitting up beside me until the worst of it passed, his men posted outside the door.

All those things that had happened between us, it turned out only I still remembered them.

Late that night, my whole body was burning.

Huge patches of red rash spread from my neck all the way down my arms, the itch boring into me.

I forced myself up off the couch and went digging for the allergy medicine.

When the safehouse light came on, I turned my head without thinking.

For one moment, I thought Lorenzo had finally remembered.

But the next second, he just walked past me with his eyes half closed and went straight into the bathroom.

"Middle of the night and you're not sleeping. What are you looking for?"

His voice was rough with sleep.

But he didn't even glance at me.

And after he asked, he didn't wait for an answer at all.

He flushed, then turned and went straight back to the bedroom.

The second the door shut, the room went quiet again.

I looked down at the allergy medicine in my hand and felt, all at once, so tired.

Too tired to even have the strength to say how much it hurt.

In the end I sank slowly down, hugged my knees, and sat on the floor while the tears slid down without a sound.

In that moment, it came to me.

My love was already dead.

That same night, I canceled everything to do with the alliance ceremony.

The arrangers, the photographer, the cars, the venue on neutral ground.

One after another, through the Family's private channels.

Like tearing down, with my own hands, the future I'd once looked forward to more than anything.

The next morning, I was woken by Lorenzo's voice.

"Adriana!"

"Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"What's wrong with your skin? Where did all this rash come from?"

I opened my eyes.

Lorenzo was crouched in front of me.

The worry and panic in his eyes almost spilling over.

We looked at each other.

And there was a strangeness to it I hadn't felt in a long time.

"Dio..."

The next second, he shot to his feet, and for just an instant his thumb pressed hard against the heel of his palm.

"I forgot, you're allergic to mango!"

His guilt came out of nowhere.

Pulling strings at the Family's clinic, signing me in, getting the medicine, standing while the doctor worked.

Rushing around the whole way.

Exactly like a man who loved his promised bride.

While the IV dripped, the nurse watched Lorenzo hurrying back and forth and couldn't help teasing with a smile,

"Your husband treats you so well."

I followed her gaze.

Lorenzo was striding back over with the slip in his hand.

A faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Once, I would surely have thought it was happiness.

But now, there wasn't the slightest ripple inside me.

Well?

If he really treated me well,

he wouldn't have left me sitting alone at the ceremony arranger's until they locked the doors.

He wouldn't have forgotten the things I liked.

And he certainly wouldn't have forgotten, clean and completely, that I was allergic to mango.

I tugged my lips up a little and said nothing.

Three full hours.

Lorenzo stayed beside me the entire time.

His phone lit up several times, the channels calling for the heir.

He didn't look at it once.

The truth is, I knew.

Lorenzo had always been serious about Family business.

While the work ran, he hardly spoke to anyone.

Even with Sabrina, he mostly reached out only after the day's matters were settled.

But there was no point reading the evidence now.

On the way back to the safehouse after the IV, the car was quieter than usual.

As we neared home, Lorenzo suddenly thought of something.

"Right."

"Yesterday you said there was something you wanted to talk over with me. What was it?"

My hand stopped on the seatbelt.

My heart gave a faint sting.

So he remembered.

So he'd known all along.

He just hadn't taken it to heart.

I lowered my eyes.

"It's nothing."

There was nothing left to talk over.

Because the outcome was already in.

The whole way, Lorenzo kept trying to find things to say.

"Should I make you red bean porridge tonight?"

"That's your favorite, isn't it?"

"Once you're better in a day or two, let's go out to eat."

He said a lot.

But not a word of it got through to me.

The elevator doors slid slowly open.