I Gave Him My Heart, Then Vanished on Our Wedding Day

I had already booked an assisted death service overseas.

On the day of the wedding he had been waiting for, I would disappear on the other side of the Atlantic. By the time he understood, all that would remain of me would be ash.

On the last night before our wedding, Lorenzo’s friends were gathered around him in a private lounge, laughing too loudly and drinking too much.

They were speaking in Sicilian.

“That video in the group chat was filmed in your bridal suite, wasn’t it?” one of the women asked with a grin. “Sleeping around right under Adela’s nose? That’s bold.”

Lorenzo leaned back, swirling his drink, looking pleased with himself.

“Yes.”

“I used to be too sick to do half the things I wanted,” he said, tapping his chest. “After the transplant, I realized spending the rest of my life with only one lover would be a waste.”

The room erupted.

He let them laugh, then added, “I set myself a goal. One hundred places before the wedding. Once it’s over, I’ll settle down. After that, my body and my marriage belong to Adela.”

More laughter. More glasses raised.

I stood outside the door with one hand pressed hard against my chest, where an artificial heart kept beating.

Lorenzo never knew I had learned his language. He also never knew that I had already discovered he was keeping Vera—our wedding’s mistress of ceremonies—behind my back.

And because he had hidden something from me, I had hidden something from him.

Maybe my face gave me away, because Lorenzo noticed me almost at once.

He got up immediately, crossed the room, and dropped to one knee in front of me.

“Is your heart acting up?”

His hand closed over my shoulder. “The doctors said you can’t stay up too late. We’re going home.”

He was already trying to lead me out when two of his friends blocked him with teasing smiles.

“Adela’s the one with the weak heart. Yours is fine now.”

“You can play husband and wife after the wedding. Tonight is your last free night.”

I slipped my hand out of his and forced my voice to stay calm.

“Have the driver take me back. This is your night. Stay.”

Then I turned and left before he could follow.

The car had barely pulled away when I found Lorenzo’s phone in the pocket of my coat.

I stared at it for a moment, then told the driver to turn around.

When the car stopped outside the club, I saw Vera stepping out of a taxi.

I followed her inside without thinking.

At the far end of the corridor, Lorenzo was already waiting.

The second he saw her, he pulled her into his arms. She pressed against him as if she belonged there. He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed, low and intimate.

“Guess what kind of wedding gift I brought you,” she murmured.

His face changed in an instant. Desire, careless and familiar.

“I’m listening.”

She caught his hand and guided it lower.

“You’ll like it.”

I stayed hidden in the shadows and watched them for one unbearable second too long.

By the time Lorenzo returned to the lounge, his lips were still wet.

His friends noticed at once.

“Now we can talk like adults.”

“Where was the best one? Answer, or drink.”

Lorenzo sat down as if nothing had happened.

“In the bridal suite,” Lorenzo said lightly. “With whipped cream and his hands around my throat.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the room, followed by a few low whistles and the kind of vulgar cheers only his inner circle would dare make in front of him.

I felt the blood drain from my body.

Years ago, to repay the De Luca family for raising me, I gave Lorenzo my heart.

After the transplant, he had held my hand in his hospital bed and said, This heart is the most precious thing I’ll ever have. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you for it.

He spent three years asking me to marry him.

This was how he chose to repay me.

By ruining the bed in our bridal suite with someone else.

I handed his phone back to the driver.

“Don’t tell him I came back,” I said.