Chapter 5

By the second morning, my bedroom looked as though grief had developed an appetite.

Empty pizza boxes covered one side of my desk. A half-finished chocolate cake sat beside my bed with a fork still buried in it, and a box that had once contained six doughnuts now held only crumbs and smears of icing. Burger wrappers, packets of chips, and an empty tub of ice cream completed the disaster.

Over the past two days, I had eaten almost everything I could find.

Not because I was hungry. I hadn’t felt real hunger since learning about Nico’s wedding. I ate because chewing gave me something to do. Sweetness covered the bitterness in my mouth, and for a few minutes at a time, the heaviness in my stomach distracted me from the emptiness in my chest.

It hadn’t worked.

No amount of sugar could erase the memory of Nico kissing me inside that locked room. Nothing could make me forget the cold pressure of his wedding ring against my cheek when he covered my mouth.

I had spent two days moving between my bed and the bathroom, wearing the same oversized shirt and avoiding every mirror in the house. I slept whenever exhaustion finally defeated my thoughts, only to wake with the same unbearable truth waiting for me.

Nico had married Bianca.

And I had kissed him afterwards.

My phone vibrated beneath one of the pillows. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. Nico had called eleven times since the wedding. His messages had begun as orders and gradually turned into warnings.

Answer your phone.

We need to talk.

Leon said you’re at home.

And finally:

Do not force me to come there, Arie.

I had read every message and answered none of them.

Leon had called too, but his messages were different.

Are you okay?

Please tell me you’re eating something.

Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it alone.

That last message had made me pause. Sometimes I wondered whether Leon understood me better than Nico ever had.

I reached beneath the pillow, switched my phone off without reading the newest notification, and climbed out of bed. My head throbbed, my body felt heavy, and the sight of the food scattered around my room made nausea rise in my throat.

Enough.

I had given Nico two days of my life after he had already taken far more than he deserved.

It was time to leave.

My suitcases had been stored beneath the window for nearly a month. When I pulled the larger one into the centre of the room and opened it, the sound of the zipper seemed unnaturally loud.

This wasn’t an impulsive decision. A month ago, before I knew Nico would marry Bianca, I had told Uncle Angelo and my aunt that I wanted to move to Seattle. I had been offered a job there, my documents had been approved, and temporary accommodation had already been arranged near my new workplace.

Back then, moving had represented independence. I loved my uncle and aunt, but I couldn’t remain in their home forever. I wanted to earn my own money, make my own decisions, and discover who I was outside the Romano name.

They had been more supportive than I expected.

Uncle Angelo had offered to contact people he knew in America. My aunt had immediately begun searching for larger apartments because she didn’t approve of the small furnished place I had chosen.

“You will be alone in a new country,” she had said. “At least allow us to make it comfortable for you.”

But I had refused their money and connections. If they arranged everything for me, I would still be living inside the life they had built. I needed something that belonged only to me.

My flight wasn’t supposed to leave for another week.

That morning, I changed it.

I began packing without allowing myself time to think. Clothes went into the suitcase first, followed by shoes, toiletries, documents, and the few books I couldn’t bear to leave behind. I placed my passport and visa inside my handbag, checking three times to ensure they were there.

At the back of my wardrobe, I found a framed photograph of my father.

I was eight when it had been taken. I sat on his shoulders with both hands tangled in his hair, laughing while he pretended I was too heavy to carry. It was one of the last photographs in which neither of us knew that happiness could disappear without warning.

I wrapped the frame carefully in one of my sweaters and placed it between my clothes.

Then I opened the top drawer of my bedside table.

Nico’s necklace lay inside.

He had given it to me on my last birthday—a delicate gold chain with a small emerald pendant. He had fastened it around my neck himself, pushing my hair aside before pressing his lips against the place where my shoulder met my neck.

Now you’ll carry something of mine wherever you go.

At the time, the words had sounded romantic.

Now they sounded like a claim.

I lifted the necklace and watched the stone catch the morning light. For one weak moment, I considered packing it. It was only jewellery, I told myself. Leaving it behind wouldn’t erase him, just as carrying it wouldn’t mean I had forgiven him.

But that wasn’t true.

The necklace belonged to the version of me who had believed Nico’s secrecy meant protection. The woman leaving this room knew better.

I returned it to the drawer and closed it.

“I’m not taking you with me,” I whispered.

My aunt found me downstairs an hour later, standing beside two suitcases.

Her eyes widened. “Today?”

“I changed my flight.”

“But you were supposed to leave next week.”

“I know.” I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle. “The company asked whether I could begin earlier, and I thought it would be better.”

The lie came more easily than it should have.

She studied my face, and I wondered whether concealer could hide two days of crying from a woman who had raised me for most of my life.

“Does this have something to do with the wedding?”

My heartbeat stumbled. “Why would it?”

“You haven’t left your room since we returned. You barely spoke to Bianca before she left.”

“I’m tired. The wedding was overwhelming, and saying goodbye to everyone isn’t exactly easy.”

That much was true.

My aunt stepped closer and brushed my hair away from my forehead. “You know this will always be your home.”

The tenderness in her voice nearly broke my control.

After my father died, she and Uncle Angelo had welcomed me without hesitation. They had never made me feel like an obligation, even when grief turned me into a silent, frightened child who woke screaming in the middle of the night.

Leaving Nico was necessary.

Leaving them hurt.

I wrapped my arms around her and held on more tightly than I intended.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?”

“For never making me feel like I didn’t belong here.”

She pulled back and held my face between her hands. “You do belong here, Arielle. You always will.”

Uncle Angelo appeared in the entrance hall while the driver carried my suitcases outside. He seemed surprised by my early departure, but he didn’t try to stop me. Instead, he placed a thick envelope inside my handbag.

“I don’t need money,” I protested.

“I know.”

“Then take it back.”

“No.”

“Uncle—”

“Humour an old man whose daughter is moving across the world.”

The word daughter tightened my throat.

I didn’t have the strength to argue again, so I kissed his cheek and allowed him to pull me into a brief embrace.

“Call when you land,” he said. “And if you need anything—anything at all—you call me.”

“I will.”

I looked around the entrance hall one last time. Bianca’s wedding flowers still decorated the tables. White roses filled every corner, their sweet fragrance carrying me straight back to the altar.

Bianca hadn’t returned from wherever Nico had taken her after the wedding. I didn’t know whether they had left for a honeymoon or one of his private estates. Part of me was relieved that I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her while carrying the guilt of what I had done.

Another part knew that leaving without facing her made me a coward.

I wrote her a note and left it in her room.

I’m sorry I couldn’t wait to say goodbye. Be happy, Bianca. You deserve to be.

I didn’t know whether the final sentence was a wish or a plea for forgiveness.

The journey to the airport passed in silence. I watched familiar streets disappear through the car window while my switched-off phone remained inside my handbag.

Every black vehicle made my heart jump. At every traffic light, I expected Nico’s men to surround the car. I imagined him discovering my plan, ordering the driver to turn around, or appearing at the airport with that cold fury in his eyes.

But no one came.

At the terminal, the driver unloaded my luggage and hugged me goodbye. I checked in, passed through security, and walked toward the departure gate before I finally allowed myself to breathe.

An ocean would soon lie between Nico and me.

I knew distance wouldn’t make him harmless. Men like Nicholas Contini didn’t become powerless merely because someone crossed a border. If he truly wanted to find me, he possessed the money and influence to do it.

But thousands of miles might make me difficult enough to reach.

Perhaps, with enough time, I would learn to wake without thinking about him. Perhaps I would stop looking for his name whenever my phone vibrated. Maybe I would meet people who knew nothing about the Romano or Contini families—people who would see Arie rather than someone’s orphaned niece, someone’s cousin, or someone’s secret.

When boarding began, I stood before fear could convince me to remain.

My legs trembled as I walked down the jet bridge, but I continued. I found my window seat, fastened my belt, and stared outside as the airport lights blurred in the evening rain.

For the first time since the wedding, something other than heartbreak moved inside me.

Hope.

The aircraft began rolling toward the runway. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and watched the city that had held my entire life grow distant.

Somewhere behind me, a man in a black suit took his seat three rows away. I noticed him only briefly when he passed, but men in dark suits had surrounded my family for as long as I could remember. I thought nothing of it.

As the plane lifted into the sky, the pressure pushed me back against my seat. The streets became lines, the buildings became lights, and eventually everything disappeared beneath the clouds.

I had loved Nico enough to let him destroy me.

Now I had to love myself enough to leave.

I closed my eyes, unaware that three rows behind me, the man had already sent a message from his phone.

She’s on the plane, sir.