Je suis morte le jour où il a gagné le championnat

The thread just kept blowing up, everyone more fixated on Rico and Seraphina’s past than the two exes themselves.

“Seraphina’s been single for years. What about Rico? Anyone got tea on his situation?”

“Hell if I know. Who’s dumb enough to dig into the Valentinos? Dude doesn’t even pop up in finance rags or underground circles these days.Bet that workaholic doesn’t even have a girl. Zero scandals in years.”

“Their love was legendary back in the day. Dude probably never got over her. So why’d they even break up anyway?”

“Young and too proud to bend. Seraphina wanted to move abroad for art school, Rico was too stubborn to say he was sorry. They just drifted apart.”

“Now that Seraphina’s back… you think they’ll get back together?”

I stared at the screen, stuck on one question that ate at me.

Why did Rico marry me? Was I just his second choice? A consolation prize?

Then Rico’s phone lit up with a text.

“Ri, I’m back.”

In all of New York, only Seraphina Rossi ever called him that.

He was fast asleep.

I almost deleted the text. I’d always known his passcode: L-O-S-E. At first, I’d thought it was a reminder to never lose, to never fail.

Then I’d figured it out. It was an acronym. Love Only Seraphina Ever.

In the end, I set the phone back down. What was the point?

Rico would never dote on me the way he doted on Seraphina.

I’d seen it once, at a gala.

Seraphina had gotten huffy because another girl asked Rico to dance. That night, he turned down every single woman who came near him, then smiled at Seraphina and said,“I said no to everyone. I’m only here for one thing, waiting for you to ask me.”

I lay awake the rest of the night replaying it in my head. Before I knew it, 7 a.m. rolled around, and Rico woke up right on schedule, same as always.