“There will be no wedding!” My voice cracked, raw and ragged, carrying the weight of a heartbreak too heavy to bear. “I’m ending the engagement. It’s over.”

The room fell silent. Dante stared at me, stunned, as if I had spoken in a language he didn’t understand. His lips parted, then curved into a smirk that wasn’t remorse—it was disbelief.

“You’re overreacting again,” he said, and actually laughed—like my pain was some trivial joke, a passing mood. “Althea… you can’t just leave me like this. You love me too much for that.”

His arrogance struck harder than any blow.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, chest heaving. “I can. And I will. Watch me.”

I wanted him to argue, to beg, to pull me into his arms like he used to. But Dante simply shrugged, turning away as if I were nothing but a minor inconvenience.

“Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said.

Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.

Before I could yell at him, a soft, hesitant voice drifted from the hallway. “Dante… Althea… are you arguing… because of me?”

Elise. She stood at the doorway in a silk robe, hair tousled, pale as if the night had drained her color. Her hands were clasped together, fragile, delicate, like she might shatter if I touched her wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, almost breathless. “The wedding was postponed… it’s my fault. I was sick. Please don’t blame Dante. You can always do it again.”

Something inside me broke.

“Don’t apologize,” I spat, my voice trembling with fury. “Be honest. You wanted this. You wanted him. And now you have him. Congratulations.”

“Althea!” Dante’s roar shook the walls. “What are you doing? She’s unwell! Why pick a fight?”

Elise stepped forward, eyes glistening, shaking her head. “Please… don’t hate me. I never meant to come between you. I just… wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Her hand reached for mine—soft, hesitant, fake.

I slapped it away.

The sound echoed through the hall. Elise gasped, stumbling back, eyes wide. Dante froze, stunned.

Before either of them could speak, I spun, stormed into my room, and slammed the door, locking it.

“Althea!” Dante pounded on the wood, fists shaking it. “Open up! Don’t make me punish you. Hear me?”

I pressed my back against the door, tears streaming freely.

From the other side, Elise’s voice cut through, trembling but venomous. “She deserves it, Dante. Don’t let her treat me like this. Don’t let her ruin you.”

Her words pierced deeper than the slap I’d given her.

“Don’t worry,” Dante’s voice said finally, calm now. “I’ll deal with her tomorrow. For now, you should rest.”

And they were gone.

I sank to the floor, sobs wracking me. Back then, when I had been angry with Dante, he would move heaven and earth to make me forgive him. Standing outside my dorm in pouring rain with roses. Writing me letters daily, sliding them under my door until I laughed through tears. He never let me cry alone.

Now? He left me here, behind a locked door, while Elise whispered poison in his ear.

The tears didn’t stop. My chest heaved violently, my sobs shaking the room. And outside, their laughter—her laughter, his laughter—cut into me like ice.

Then the moaning began.

I pressed my hands to my ears, but it didn’t help. Their voices seeped through every crack, cruel reminders that I was no longer wanted, no longer chosen. Exhaustion dragged me down eventually, and I fell into a restless, tear-stained sleep.

Morning sunlight burned through my swollen eyes. The door burst open. Dante stood there, towering, fury in every line of his face.

“Get up.” His voice was steel. He yanked the blankets off me.

“What—” I gasped.

“Did you think about last night?” His tone was sharp, unyielding. “Apologize to her. Now.”

I pushed myself up slowly, voice raw. “No. I won’t. I did nothing wrong. She ruined this—ruined us.”

Dante’s gaze darkened. “Do you hear yourself? She saved me, Althea. Without her, I might not even be alive. Can’t you show some gratitude?”

My lips trembled. “I was grateful. Not anymore.”

I tried to walk past him, but his hand clamped onto my wrist. Then the sting came.

His slap rang out, sharp and deafening.

“That’s for slapping her,” he spat. “Now get dressed. We’re going out.”

I clutched my cheek. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

“Because Elise wants to go out to eat. And you’re coming. She wants you there. If you want to marry me, you’ll have to deal with her. That’s how it is. Fix your attitude—or there really won’t be a wedding.”

The words stole my breath. My heart twisted in my chest, but minutes later, I was dragged into the car.

Dante drove. Elise sat beside him, laughter spilling like poison into the air. And me? I sat behind them, invisible, forgotten.

By the time we reached the restaurant, dusk had turned the sky gray. Snowflakes swirled in the bitter wind. The asphalt was slick, the air sharp and cold.

We stepped into the parking lot, heels clicking on icy ground, arms wrapped around ourselves for warmth.

Then it happened.

A truck skidded down the street, horn blaring, tires screeching. Chaos erupted—screams, flashing lights, pounding footsteps.

I froze at the crosswalk, headlights blinding me. My body refused to move, my mind empty.

Dante ran—but not to me.

He lunged for Elise, pulling her into his arms as if she were the only thing that mattered.

I was left standing alone.

The impact hit like thunder. Pain shot through every nerve, ripping the breath from my lungs. The world exploded into snow, red lights, and screaming voices.

And then—darkness.

By some miracle, I was still alive.

When my eyes flickered open, the harsh white of the hospital ceiling greeted me first, and the rhythmic beeping of machines anchored me painfully to reality. Pain pulsed through my body, sharp and insistent, dulled only slightly by the medication coursing through my veins.

I shouldn’t have made it. Even the nurse didn’t hide it.

“You’re lucky to be here,” she murmured, adjusting my IV with careful hands. “The impact was severe. You’ll have scars, and the recovery will take time—but you’re stable enough to go home tomorrow.”

I gave a faint nod, unable to speak. But inside, something inside me was breaking all over again.

Memories of another fall clawed their way back—years ago, when I had slipped near the cliff on that trip. I could still feel the wind tearing past my screams, the ground rushing up at me. And Dante… Dante hadn’t hesitated. He’d climbed down himself, hands scratched and bleeding, shaking with the effort, until he had me back in his arms. He had never let go.

That was the Dante I had loved.

But now? Now, on that street, frozen and terrified, he hadn’t even glanced at me. His arms, his protection, his devotion—they had all gone to Elise.

I was invisible. Replaceable. Disposable.

That night, I lay in the sterile hospital bed, staring at the ceiling as snow drifted silently outside the window. Dante didn’t come. Not once. My phone buzzed at midnight, and I snatched it up with desperate hope—only for it to break me further.

Dante: Elise was traumatized after nearly being hit. She needs me tonight. Stay strong.

Stay strong. As if my pain meant nothing.

A second message followed—from Miranda, his mother.

Miranda: Althea, it’s my birthday tomorrow. Please come. I miss you, my daughter.

For a moment, I wanted to refuse, to curl in on myself and vanish. But Miranda… she had been my anchor when my parents died. She had handled everything I couldn’t, guided me until I could stand on my own. She was more mother to me than anyone else had ever been.

So, against my better judgment, I went.

The party was lavish, golden lights spilling across Miranda’s estate, laughter echoing in the grand hall, crystal glasses clinking. I lingered at the edge, trying not to be noticed—but the voices reached me.

“Dante, what are you thinking?” Miranda’s voice was sharp, slicing through the warmth of the room. “You let her get hurt for that woman? Althea is your fiancée! She’s the one meant to be with you!”

Dante’s voice was firm, defensive. “Mom… you know it’s different. Elise saved me. I owe her everything. I’m just returning the favor.”

My chest constricted.

“And what about Althea?” Miranda pressed, trembling with barely contained frustration. “Hasn’t she saved you countless times? I told you to take care of Elise, not replace Althea!”

“I think… maybe it’s time to replace her,” Dante said. “Elise is better.”

The words hollowed me out. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. The room spun as my legs faltered beneath me.

When I finally stepped into the hall, I felt like a ghost. Dante and Elise sat together, hands entwined, faces glowing with warmth, while I lingered like a shadow at the edge. My place in the family—and in his life—had vanished.

Later, Miranda found me, her face soft, guilt etched in every line. “Are you alright, my dear?”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine. Happy birthday, Auntie.”

Her hand rested lightly on my arm. “Come, sit with us at the table.”

I shook my head, eyes flicking to Elise nestled beside Dante. “There’s no need. She’s here. You don’t have to make room for me.”

Her gaze darkened with regret. “I’m sorry, Althea. It’s our fault for letting her in.”

“I understand,” I whispered, turning away toward the bar.

The burn of alcohol slid down my throat as I drank, glass after glass, trying to numb the ache. The guests’ chatter blurred around me, hazy and distant.

Then a hand pressed against my back—too low, too rough. I stiffened and spun around. A man leaned close, breath smelling of liquor.

“Don’t look so lonely, beautiful,” he murmured.

“Leave me alone,” I snapped, shoving him away.

But he tightened his grip, pressing against my waist. Panic surged, and I yelled, voice echoing through the hall. “Help! He’s harassing me!”

All eyes turned. Silence fell. The man smirked, loosening just enough to feign innocence.

“Harassing? No, no… she came onto me. Tried to seduce me.”

Gasps and whispers rippled through the room like knives.

And Dante? He watched. Did nothing.

Finally, he stepped forward, face cold, eyes sharp. He grabbed my arm. “Is this true? Were you… seducing him?”

“No!” My voice cracked, desperate. “I wasn’t—Dante, I swear!”

But the damage was done. All around me, people stared—whispering, pity and judgment in their eyes. My body shook as shame swallowed me whole.

I tore myself free and ran, tears blinding me.

“Althea!” The voice chasing me wasn’t Dante’s—it was Miranda’s. Her heels clicked against the marble as she caught up. “Don’t go, my dear. Stay. You belong here.”

I shook my head violently, sobs wracking me. “No. I can’t. I can’t be part of this family. I’m ending the engagement.”

Her face fell, sorrow deep in her eyes.

“Please,” I whispered, clutching her hands. “If you care for me, don’t let your son know I’m leaving. Don’t let him find me. Promise me.”

Her lips trembled, tears glistening. She nodded.

And just like that, I turned away, leaving everything behind, my heart shattering one final time.

For days, my existence had narrowed down to one thing: packing, sorting, and methodically erasing every trace of a love that had already died. I had instructed my uncle to handle the legalities of selling off my properties, and one by one, I released myself from everything Dante had ever given me—cars, jewelry, even the house that had once promised a future with him.

Every token that had once felt like devotion now felt like chains, heavy and suffocating, and I wanted nothing more than to shatter them.

Elise’s things were gathered too. I couldn’t stand the thought of her belongings strewn around my home as if she belonged here. Some were boxed and sent away; others, I simply discarded. Dust and detergent filled the air, but at least the house felt like mine again, if only for a fleeting moment.

I was scrubbing the living room table when voices drifted from the back terrace. Dante’s voice—low, careless, and thoughtless—cut through the air. I froze, the damp rag trembling in my hand.

“Mom, I told you, okay? I don’t care that she refuses to marry me. So what? She’ll come crawling soon enough, whining and dramatic as always.”

My chest constricted at his words.

“Honestly… even if she were dead, I doubt I’d care. I regret even promising her that wedding. I was a fool.”

Blades of rage and disbelief cut through me. My knees almost gave out, but I clutched the table, steadying myself. That—those words—that was my breaking point. Twenty years of loyalty, love, and sacrifice, and to him, my life, my death, my very existence amounted to nothing.

I dropped the rag and headed straight for the door. I didn’t care if he saw me or not.

Before I could reach it, a piercing voice echoed behind me. “What’s happening here?! Why are my things outside? Why are you throwing everything away?”

I turned slowly, my tone calm though my heart roared. “This is my home. I will decide what happens here.”

Her eyes widened, instantly glistening with tears—I recognized the act, bitterly practiced. She looked like a child seeking her protector when Dante appeared.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

Elise flung herself into his arms, sobbing. “She’s throwing me out!”

I faced him, my expression hardening. “Dante, this house is mine because you gave it to me. That means I decide who stays. If I say Elise must go, she goes.”

His jaw tightened, eyes flashing. “You think you can wield that against me? Don’t forget who put you here. I gave you this house, not for you to throw fits and kick out whoever I let in.”

I straightened my back, unshaken. “This isn’t a tantrum. This is me reclaiming what’s mine. If you want her around so badly, fine—you can both leave. I want neither of you under my roof.”

Dante’s face darkened further, a low growl in his voice. “Are you doing this because you think my mother will back you? You think her favor gives you power?” He shook his head, laughing bitterly. “Pathetic. Doesn’t matter. Elise’s leaving anyway. I’ve already bought her a bigger house.”

My eyes flicked to Elise. Her tears vanished instantly, replaced by a sly, triumphant smile. “You did?” she cooed, feigning innocence.

“Yes,” Dante said, final.

Elise turned to me, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’m sorry for overstaying my welcome.” She stepped closer, hugging me as if I would believe her act of gratitude.

Her whisper, though, burned against my ear: “I’m leaving with him. I’ll never let him come back to you.”

I closed my eyes briefly, then pulled away, expression unreadable. “Do as you wish,” I said, my voice sharp. Then I faced Dante. “Go ahead. Marry her. I’ve chosen another man anyway.”

His laughter filled the room. “You? Don’t joke, Althea. Who would want you after twenty years with me? Do you think anyone would accept a woman like you?”

I didn’t respond. My heart pounded with rage and grief, but he would never know the worth of a woman who had given her youth, loyalty, and everything to him.

Dante smirked, triumphant. “I’ll come back once Elise settles in. We’ll talk then… and don’t forget, our registry wedding is scheduled for tomorrow, so maybe you’ll finally shut up about us not getting married.”

Before I could speak, Elise clutched her stomach dramatically. “Dante… I think I’m going to be sick.”

His focus snapped entirely to her. Just like that, I disappeared from his world, invisible once again in her presence.

I stepped outside, the evening air sharp against my skin. My chest was heavy, but a strange clarity settled in. Enough.

There is no wedding. Tomorrow, I will leave. Tomorrow, I will end this cycle of betrayal and humiliation once and for all.

I packed through the night, each garment folded with numb, deliberate hands. Drawers emptied, photo albums tossed, wedding dresses put aside—every item a chain I was shedding.

At last, I sat in the quiet house. My phone buzzed. Dante.

What do you want?

I’m coming home tonight. I’ll make it up to you and the promised wedding. Tell me, Althea—what do you want?

I let a dry, humorless smile curve my lips. What I wanted, he could no longer give—respect, loyalty, truth. But he would understand this last request.

I typed slowly, deliberately, each word final:

Bring me a blueberry cheesecake.