Lorenzo was still staring at me. There was cold fire in his eyes.

I dropped my head and looked at my shoes.

Someone grabbed both our hands and pulled them together, laughing.

"Liana used to get picked on in school, remember? Lorenzo, you were the first one in there swinging for her."

"Everyone said you two were made for each other. How did you ever break up?"

The whole group was laughing now, egging us on, telling us to give it another shot.

The Underboss next to Lorenzo stepped in and shut it down.

He glanced at me and sneered disdainfully, "The Don was crazy about her once. Too bad she only cares about money."

The room went dead quiet.

That word, Don, had a way of doing that. Everyone shut up.

The Underboss saw the room fall in line and nodded. Then he said:

"The Don came today to invite you all to his wedding."

"The bride's name is Sofia. If I may speak out of turn..."

He stopped. Looked right at me. "She's prettier than you. Smarter than you. And she's a much better fit to be the Don's wife."

Something hollowed out in my chest. But something else loosened, too.

Seven years. He'd finally found someone else to love.

She'd fill in the hole I left in him. She'd be gentle with him. She'd take care of him.

I cried for seven years. It took me that long to figure it out.

Lorenzo was never my flower. I just happened to walk past while he was in bloom.

He was okay now. That was enough.

I forced the tightness in my throat back down and made myself look at him. "Congratulations."

When I said it, Lorenzo's jaw locked. He was grinding his teeth.

I could hear them, a faint dry sound, like rain through leaves.

He made a small gesture and the Underboss handed him a lit cigar.

He took a long drag and blew the smoke straight into my face.

"Liana. I won't be inviting you."

"Traitors don't get to come to my wedding. And Sofia doesn't want to look at you."

The smoke was bitter and burned, like the smell of our dead past.

I bit my lip and smiled and nodded. "Okay. I won't come."

Everyone was looking at each other. The room was ice.

Nobody could believe it. Two people who'd been that in love, now standing there like enemies.

But people love a winner. And Lorenzo, the Don, was about to be the center of attention no matter what.

After a moment of awkward silence, they all crowded around him, asking about the bride.

Lorenzo smiled and pulled out his phone, showing off wedding photos of him and Sofia.

Somehow, I could feel his gaze drifting towards me out of the corner of his eye.

I was imagining it. How could that be possible?

I shook my head and made myself laugh at it.

I was the last person in the world Lorenzo wanted to see.

I looked at him one last time, and I left.

This time he didn't even notice me leaving.

On the way home, a friend sent me their wedding photo.

In it he had his arm tight around Sofia's waist. He looked happy.

She gave me a call and gossiped.

"Doesn't Sofia look kind of like you? Maybe seventy percent the same."

She lowered her voice like she was sharing state secrets. "I'm telling you. He couldn't get over you. So he went and found a copy."

My heart lurched. Then sank, slowly.

"No way," I said.

"You two were so good together. There's really no chance?"

I stopped walking and looked up at the sky.

It hung dark and gloomy, like it was holding something sad in.

After a long silence, I let out a long breath.

Just like a stuck tape starting to play again, it came out with faint rustling hisses.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I said. "It's done."

Lorenzo had been written out of my life.

He just didn't know that the day they took him, I'd found out I was pregnant.

It was his.

And our son was running out of time.

My son's illness flattened me. The world had me on my knees.

But I wasn't giving up. I worked. I scraped. Every single dollar I could get my hands on.

For money, I'd go beg classmates at a reunion. For money, I'd serve drinks in a basement bar.

I didn't need my dignity. I needed enough to keep my son alive.

After that night at the reunion, I didn't see Lorenzo again.

I thought that was it. Last time.

Then a few days later, Sofia came looking for me.

She walked into the basement bar with a couple of friends and asked for me by name.

One of them looked me up and down like she was checking the meat counter.

"You're Liana? The Don's first love?"

She covered her mouth and laughed. Shook her head, disgusted.

"Why are you slumming it in a place like this? What's a bottle cost?"

I clenched my fist, pasted on the work smile, and quoted her the price and the tip.

"Jesus. That tip is highway robbery."

She walked a circle around me, looking me up and down. "You're half-dressed, you're caked in makeup, and you charge that much in tips?"

She paused. Smirked. "You sure it's just drinks you're selling?"

I let out a hard little laugh and turned to leave.

"Hey."

She yanked me back. Pulled out a stack of bills. Threw them up in the air right in my face.

Money rained down on the table.

I made myself stop.

"That's the deposit," she said. She pointed at the 750ml bottle of Hennessy XO on the table. "Finish it. I'll give you fifty thousand more."

That whole bottle would put me in the hospital getting my stomach pumped.

Sofia grabbed her friend's arm, scolding. "Stop. We said we were just coming to look."

She turned to me with that little smile. "Liana, I'm sorry. I was just curious. I really don't look like you, so all those rumors about Lorenzo using me as some kind of replacement, they're nothing."

I shrugged at her friend. "You can go ahead and get that fifty thousand ready."

Then I grabbed the bottle and started chugging.

The whole room went quiet, like they couldn't believe I was actually doing it for the money.

When I was more than halfway through, Sofia gently pulled the bottle out of my hand. She was frowning.

"Liana. Lorenzo told me you only care about money, but you're going to wreck yourself."

"This is exactly why he left you, you know. You're obsessed with it."

I was fighting the dizziness. "Shut up. You're in the way of my paycheck."

Sofia hugged the bottle to her chest, shaking her head. "I can't. If this gets out, Lorenzo's going to think I drove you to it."

"Fifty thousand isn't even one of my bags. But I can't sit here and watch you do this to yourself."

"I'm not paying. You need to stop—"

I snatched the bottle back and started drinking again.

When I finally finished, her friend laughed.

"We were just messing with you. You're seriously this desperate for the money?"

Something snapped in my head.

I smashed the bottle on the table. Glass flew. A piece sliced Sofia's arm, leaving a thin red line.

I pointed the broken bottle at them.

"You're not walking out of here without paying me my fifty thousand."

Sofia went white. She started crying.

The door blew open.

Lorenzo was standing in the doorway, backlit. I couldn't see his face.

My heart skipped.

I'd spent years making sure he never found out I was serving drinks in a place like this.

I wanted him to remember me the way I used to be. Sweet. Clean.

The world wouldn't let me have that.

My stomach turned over.

Alcohol and bile came up at the same time and I threw up all over the floor.

I was a mess.

I forced the nausea down and made myself look indifferent while Lorenzo pulled Sofia into his arms and wiped her tears for her.

He tilted his head and looked at me like I was something on the bottom of his shoe.

"Liana. You’re nothing but a greedy bitch who cares more about money than your life."

"You want the money? Fine."

He smiled, teeth showing.

"Cut yourself for it."

I looked at him. I felt nothing.

The one who used to almost cry when I got a splinter, all that softness was gone.

He'd given it all to Sofia.

Sofia, who was now smirking at me from inside his arms.

I knew what he was doing. He was making her feel better.

Fine. I just wanted the money.

I lifted my chin. Took the broken bottle. Drove it straight into my left shoulder.

Blood came out at the same time my voice did.

"Good enough? Fifty thousand."

Lorenzo froze.

Then he was on me in one stride. His hand came up to slap me.

I locked my jaw and stared straight at him. Didn't move.

His palm stopped an inch from my face.

He was grinding his teeth. His body was shaking.

"Liana. For money. You'd really do that to yourself?"

Then his hand came down softly. Cupped my face.

I shoved it off. The pain in my shoulder was screaming.

"You said it yourself. I only care about money. Fifty thousand. Not a dollar less."

"Pay up and get out. Keep your fiancée in line. Don't come back. Next time it's more than fifty."