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.

Not long after, another message appeared. Not from Dante this time—it was Miranda, his mother.

I had finally convinced him to follow through with the registry wedding tomorrow. Maybe that would make you stay, she wrote. If not… let me at least help you leave. After everything my son has done, let me be the one to make it right.

I stared at her words until the letters blurred. My chest tightened—not with hope, not with love, but with the bitter ache of years spent believing in a lie. Miranda was trying to mend the ruins Dante had left behind, but it was far too late.

The cake, the wedding, his sudden desperate attempts—it was all just ashes now.

Tomorrow, I would walk away. Not just from Dante. Not just from Elise. Not just from this house that had been a palace and a prison all at once. I would leave the girl I had once been—the one who had trusted promises that had turned venomous.

Tomorrow, I would leave everything behind.

My fingers trembled as I typed back. Nothing could sway me anymore. I’m sorry, but thank you…

I sat there long after pressing send, staring at the screen, waiting for the impossible. Waiting for him to appear, for footsteps that would never come. Hours crawled by. Midnight passed. Still no sign of Dante.

At dawn, my phone lit up with a message.

Elise needs me. She fractured her legs while moving things around. Don’t worry—we’ll see each other at the registry tomorrow for the wedding. I’ll make it up to you on the honeymoon.

I didn’t even realize I was laughing until I felt tears sting my cheeks. Always her, always her needs, her pain, her place beside him—while I was left with promises as fragile as glass.

That afternoon, the butler arrived at my door, carrying a white box. He placed it carefully on the table, bowed. “From Sir Dante, Madam.”

My heart stuttered. For one foolish, fleeting moment, I thought maybe—just maybe—he had remembered. That he had listened. That he had brought my true favorite because he remembered us. Because he remembered me.

I opened the box. The scent hit me immediately. Blueberry.

I froze, my throat tightening as reality set in. He hadn’t remembered me at all. Blueberries had always made me break out in hives. But Elise? She loved them. She had told him countless times how much she adored them.

I had only mentioned it once—hoping, wishing. But there I stood, staring at it, knowing the truth. The last shreds of hope inside me snapped. Whatever lingered of us, of him, shattered completely.

My phone buzzed again. Not Dante. My uncle.

“Althea,” his steady voice said, calm but resolute. “Everything is ready. I’ll be waiting at the airport. Don’t be late.”

I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath to anchor myself. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from resolve. The chains he had bound me with, the hold he had on my life—they were gone.

“Alright,” I whispered, voice steady. I looked once at the untouched cake. “I’ll be there.”

The next morning, as I readied myself, I overheard voices in the hall. The butler, whispering urgently into his phone.

“…Yes, Sir Dante plans to propose to Miss Elise later tonight. Everything is arranged. And make sure Miss Althea never finds out. After all, their wedding at the civil registry is just a show.”

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped me, echoing against the walls.

So that was it. Every vow, every promise, every touch—all lies. The registry wedding, the future he had painted for me, nothing but a performance while his heart was entirely with someone else.

A hollow ache spread in my chest. Fool—that’s what I had been. Twenty years spent on love that never existed. I should have left long before Elise came, long before betrayal hollowed me out.

But now… I wasn’t broken. I was free. When everything turns to ash, there is nothing left to fear.

I stepped out of that house—my battlefield, my prison, my graveyard—without looking back.

At the gates, a voice called after me. One of Dante’s old family friends, the kind who always hovered at gatherings, rushed forward, bewildered.

“Where are you going, Althea? Wait—are you leaving? I thought today was supposed to be your special day with Dante. That’s why he asked me to come…” His expression was a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Actually,” I said, my voice calm, though my chest ached, “it’s his special day with Elise. I am marrying someone else.”

His eyes widened. “You’re really marrying someone else? Does Dante know? Wait—what’s happening?”

At the mention of Dante, my smile faltered. The pain threatened to crush me, but I shook my head. “No. He doesn’t know.” I glanced at the time. “It’s late. I must go now. Give him my regards.”

I slid into the car, closed the door, and as it pulled away, the manor shrank behind me.

Just as we reached the gates, another car passed. For a brief second, I caught Dante’s silhouette at the wheel. He clutched something small in his hand—a faint gleam in the morning light. A ring box. A proposal, no doubt, for Elise, while I would be left behind for the third time. But I refused to look.

I turned my head away, pressing my hand to my stomach, steadying myself.

He and Elise would never be separated again… and I finally had my freedom.