The party went smoothly.
After cutting the cake, I ditched the polite smiles and made a beeline for the dance floor. Met a cute guy—messy curls, a cocky smile, hands that lingered too long on my waist.
He gave me his number.
And now I’m staring at it. Still lying on my bed in my very little PJs—believe me when I say little.
No one’s allowed in my room after 10 PM, so I was safe. Even though Enzo said he'd come back... he left.
With her.
She was drunk. Couldn't get home.
So he took her.
Of course.
I may or may not wore this for him.
But now it was all useless.
As me.
I looked down at my phone.
If I can’t text the one I want, why not settle for some distraction?
Rolling over on my bed, my eyes caught my reflection in the mirror above. And just like that, I was yanked into a memory—one that never leaves.
FLASHBACK
“You good?” he asked, that usual furrow between his brows.
“Yes.”
A lie.
The cramps were killing me. I hadn’t even managed to shower—I felt heavy, sore, useless.
It happened sometimes, but today was worse than usual. I curled tighter into the couch, trying to hide it.
He reached for my hand. “Come here.”
“No.”
But of course, he didn’t listen. He never did when I was in pain. I always ended up in his lap. This shouldn’t have felt different. But I was on my period. It felt… humiliating.
What if I left a stain on his expensive suit pants?
Not that he was wearing a suit now—just a shirt, sleeves rolled up, forearms on display like a cruel temptation.
“What are you doing?”
He guided his hand under my red sweatshirt, his palm warm as it moved gently over my aching stomach.
“It’ll help,” he said softly.
And God—it did. I melted into his touch.
Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face close to his. He focused on my cramps.
I focused on the moles on his face.
1, 2, 3… 4… um… 5… 6… oh, and there's one more…
“Stop,” he murmured suddenly.
“Huh?”
He was staring at me now. That unreadable expression in his eyes.
“How many times are you going to count them?”
I blinked. Caught.
“Oh, that? As many times as I get to be this close to you.”
He chuckled. Deep and amused. It made my chest ache.
“So I have to put up with this forever?”
“I mean… yeah. I guess.”
We were staring at each other. His hand slowly slid a little higher.
My breath hitched. I knew what was coming—
Instead, he started tickling me.
“NOOO!! ENZOOO!! NOO!!”
“No what, princess?” he teased, voice thick with laughter.
I was laughing too hard to feel the pain anymore.
“Please—please, Enzooo!” I begged between gasps.
Finally, he stopped. Lay beside me like the tickling drained all his energy.
We stared up at the mirror above.
“I can’t breathe,” I whispered, smiling.
“Cramps gone?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Or do you want my magical fingers again?”
I blushed. Hard.
I knew he meant tickling.
But my mind had other plans.
FLASHBACK END
“What are you thinking, princess?”
I jolted.
He came.
He was standing at the door in black sweatpants and a t-shirt. Casual. Unbothered.
His hair completely disheveled yet looked effortless.
But his eyes… they didn’t leave my face.
No expression on his face.
Blank.
He didn’t look down—but I knew he saw. I was barely wearing anything. Tiny shorts that threatened to reveal everything with the wrong move. A red bralette.
His favorite color.
I wore it more after he told me.
But not once I had the courage to wear this in front of him.
And here he was.
“About you,” I said softly. Replying to his question.
He tilted his head, confused.maybe?
“Me?”
I sat up, pulling my legs closed. Suddenly shy and very much aware of his stare.
“Yes… how you… proposed,” I mumbled, heading toward the dresser, grabbing the first shirt I found and throwing it on.
In the past I always wanted him to see me in this but now, I don't want to.
He left me on my birthday night.
I thought he'll come to me first but NO!
“I didn’t,” he said, voice sharp.
He hadn’t moved from the doorway. Hands in pockets. Leaning like he owned the air between us.
“You didn’t?”
My back was to him. My heart cracked again.
I turned, walked straight to him, pulled his hand out of his pocket and said with a smile that felt like swallowing glass:
“Then congratulations anyway, Mr. Vitalio. I hope you have a happy life.”
His jaw clenched.
He gripped my hand tightly.
“Don’t play with me, bella,” he whispered.
His voice was soft but on edge.
It was a warning.
“I’m not,” I said sweetly. “But if you want to play…”
I let the silence stretch.
“Then why not?”
His eyes darkened. The room thickened with tension. I could feel the rage in him. If I pushed more, he might just strangle me.
(Not that I’d mind. Not entirely.)
So I did the unthinkable.
I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek. Slowly. Lingering.
“I hope you enjoy your married life in the future… Mr. Vitalio.”
That was it.
His hand snapped up into my hair.
Firm, not painful. But dominant and Controlling.
I gasped softly, forced to look up at him, neck stretched, heart racing.
“I. Said. I. Didn’t. Propose. To. Her.”
He growled the words like they burned his tongue.
I rolled my eyes.
He tightened his grip.
I smirked.
“I didn’t ask.”
"Is it too hard for you to understand simple phrase?" He asked.
His patience cracked.
“You’re acting like a brat.”
“I am a brat,” I hissed. “But only towards people who no longer matter to me.”
His eyes widened—just a flicker—but the fire in them roared.
“What’s disturbing you, bella?” he asked, suddenly quiet again.
How do I say it?
That loving him is slowly killing me?
That every part of me screams for him and still, he won’t choose me?
My eyes closed.
I couldn’t look at him anymore.
His grip softened, not letting go. Not entirely.
“Why?” I whispered.
“Huh?”
“I… was your family,” I choked.
The words tasted like betrayal.
His expression softened. He kissed my forehead.
“You are. Forever my family, bella.”
Then why does it hurt so much?
“Then… what changed?” I breathed.
That question made him freeze.
He didn’t have an answer.
And maybe that silence was my answer.
The silence was too painful for me to endure. So got up and left him sitting there busy in his thouhts I closed the door behind me with a soft click. The sound felt final, like the closing of a book I didn’t want to finish but had no strength to keep reading. The lights were dim, casting long shadows across the floor as I climbed into bed, wrapping myself up in the same blanket I’d held onto earlier—hoping it would offer some kind of comfort again. But it didn’t. Not tonight. I lay still. Eyes open. Staring at the ceiling like it had answers. Why did I say that? Why did I ask about the engagement when I knew the answer would destroy me? I rolled to my side, pulling the blanket tighter against my chest as the sting of tears hit my eyes. I had tried. I had tried to be strong. To be okay with the way things were. To be mature, composed, quiet about the way my heart cracked open every time he called me “Bella” with a tone that meant everything and nothing. But it wasn’t workin
After dinner, he brought me to the hospital. Bandage on my both feet. My hands remained bluish purple. But the spot on my neck was a bit lighter. I related everything that happened to Enzo. He swore continuously but didn't say anything more. I was frightened and didn't want to return home. Antonio was not typically at home and Lily always had to go with him. Lucas was occupied with business travels. Enzo also did not want me to go, so I remained. I recovered my phone. Then I realized Sara tricked me, my phone was with her the entire time. I have been here for a week now but Carol did not come. I overheard him speaking to her on the phone. She wanted to come but he did not allow her. It was best. I do not wish to lose my peace. Ethan and his brother were both in prison. In certain cases of drugs. I knew it was Enzo's work. I heard Ethan was beaten up so severely in prison that he had 5 fractures and was now in hospital. I sat in the living room drinking hot chocolate
"Darling… it will all be okay."Rosie's voice trembled, a fragile note of warmth against the frigid terror still clinging to my skin like second flesh.Her aged hands stroked my back, shaky and slow, as if she thought she could rub the memories right out of me. Like the horror could be kneaded away with love and warmth.I couldn’t move.Couldn’t breathe right.Couldn’t feel my own body except where it ached.She placed a plate of sandwiches in front of me, the crusts trimmed just the way I liked. I stared at them. My stomach turned.Food felt… absurd. Alien.How could I eat when I still felt his hands?Ethan.Just the name sent bile racing up my throat.I sat there, stiff and silent. Eyes locked on the door.Waiting.Praying.And then—“EVELYN!”His voice cracked through the silence like thunder splitting the earth. Raw. Frantic. Real.I flinched so hard I dropped the teacup in my hand.The shatter echoed through the quiet.He was here.My lungs collapsed on themselves. I stood up too
No phone.No soul in sight.No shop. No light. No fucking hope.Black dots danced in my vision like they were mocking me—taunting me for ever thinking I was anything but breakable.I didn't know how long I walked. My feet were torn, flesh raw and slick with blood. My ankle screamed with every step.But then—A flicker.A fragile flicker of yellow light through the trees.My heart seized. Was it real?I staggered toward it, broken body dragging forward, praying it wasn't a hallucination.I limped faster.Come on… just a little more.“Fuck—!” I gasped as a shard jabbed straight into the arch of my foot. I wasn’t on any road. It was wilderness now. Stone. Glass. Twisted metal and discarded syringes.My vision blurred, pain pulsing like thunder.But I saw it.A bar.Rosie & James Bar—the letters barely lit, flickering like a dying breath.I shoved the door open. The musty scent of cigarettes and whiskey swallowed me whole.Few people inside. Fewer sober.I went straight to the counter, sw
A college friend invited me to a party. I wasn’t a party person—but still, I said yes. Lily didn’t even question it when I asked. She gave me permission with a soft smile, probably thinking I was just trying to live a little. Not knowing she was handing me the rope I’d hang myself with. I wore the most sinful thing I could find. Tight. Bare. Bold. Lips blood-red. Eyes defiant. And underneath it all— Something desperate. Unraveling. Enzo, you pushed me away. Now watch me leave. I looked in the mirror one last time. Blowing a kiss at my reflection like it didn’t already look a little cracked. A little lost. “I’m done waiting for you,” I whispered. “You can rot with Carol.” I lied to myself like it was a prayer. But it still felt holy. The house loomed like a monster in makeup. Flashing lights. Bass that rattled bones. It looked like a party, sure. But something about it felt… wrong. Like stepping into a movie right before the villain makes his grand entrance. The part
The city lights painted fleeting shadows across the car’s interior, my dress catching glints of gold as we drove under each streetlight.It was quiet. Not awkward—just full.Aaron glanced at me. “Hey.”“Hmm?”“You okay?” he asked, softer now. “Like, really okay?”I looked out the window for a second, pretending I wasn’t forming words that would hurt to say.“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Some days I think I’m over him. Others, it’s like he’s still… everywhere.”Aaron nodded, eyes still on the road. “Yeah. That’s how love works. It doesn’t let you unsubscribe that easy.”I smiled, bitter and fond. “You sound like an old man who’s had his heart broken ten times.”“Please. My heart is in mint condition,” he declared. “Except that one time in seventh grade when Amelia threw my valentine card in the trash. Still not over it.”I giggled. “You’re ridiculous.”“I’m hilarious. And I’m also the only one brave enough to drive you to a party where your almost-soulmate is probably pacing around like