What She Never Chose

 8PM

Alessandro sat rigidly in the director’s chair, cold eyes locked on the medical files laid before him. A line of doctors stood in front of the desk, nerves visibly cracking under the tension. His face betrayed no emotion, but the air was thick with dread as his gaze lingered on his mother’s hospital report.

Without warning, he looked up. The moment his icy stare met theirs, every doctor lowered their head, trembling. Rising to his feet, hands casually tucked into his pockets, Alessandro walked toward them slowly—intimidating without saying a word.

“Who is responsible for coordinating her medical care?” he asked, voice low but heavy with threat.

“It—it's Dr. Kate—I mean, Dr. Ben. I was—” the director stammered, stumbling over words like a man about to drown.

“I asked a fucking question!” Alessandro snapped.

A doctor finally stepped forward, bowing his head. “I was in charge, sir… but last month she insisted I stop. She said she was fine. That she didn’t need monitoring.”

“Is she a doctor?” Alessandro growled. “Is she supposed to tell you how to do your job? You’re fired!”

The man stepped back in shock, face paling.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. It’s my fault—I should’ve insisted. Please… he’s our best doctor,” the director pleaded.

Alessandro turned his cold gaze on him. “Do you want to join him?”

Silence fell. Not a single soul dared answer.

“And why the hell is she still in this hospital if her condition is this bad?” he demanded.

“She’s refusing treatment, sir. We even arranged for her to be flown to Japan, but she wouldn’t go,” the director explained, voice barely audible.

“Should I just fire all of you?” Alessandro barked.

Just then, the door opened and in walked Veronica Esposito, Roman Esposito’s second wife and Alessandro’s mother. The room fell into reverent silence as the doctors bowed.

“No one is getting fired,” she said calmly.

“Mum,” Alessandro said tightly.

“You can all leave.” Her tone was dismissive, and the doctors exited like released prisoners.

As the door clicked shut, Alessandro turned to her, frustration boiling. “What the hell were you thinking, Mrs. Esposito? Do you see what you’ve done?”

She sat slowly on the couch, regal even in her fragility. “You already know why, Sandro. I have nothing more to say.”

Alessandro groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Do you really have to put me in this position, Mum? Why marriage?”

“It’s better to die than watch my son disobey me at every turn,” she replied coolly. “Just look at —Salvador married and blessed with a child. And you… wasting your years.”

“So you want me to get married out of jealousy for Salvador?” he scoffed. “Why not marry off Cassie instead?”

“You’re such a fool, Sandro,” she sighed. “Come sit beside me.”

He did, reluctantly.

“I want a grandchild,” she said simply. “Is that too much for a mother to ask?”

“You should’ve just said that. How many do you want? Two? Four?” he muttered.

“I mean it. I want a real grandchild. From you.”

“Fine, I’ll adopt one for you.”

“Sandro!” she snapped, breaking into a harsh cough.

“Mum? Are you okay?” He leaned toward her.

She waved him off, the coughing subsiding. “You can’t force me into this, Mum. I won’t.”

“Then live with the guilt that your stubbornness killed your mother,” she said quietly.

Alessandro rose again, pacing. “You really are something. Fine. It’s just marriage, right? I’ll do it.”

A smile graced her face. “Good. In a week.”

“What?!” he yelled.

“I can’t risk you changing your mind again.”

She pulled a file from her bag and handed it to him. Alessandro scanned it, scowling.

“A marriage certificate? You’ve planned this all along.”

“Sign it.”

He sighed, grabbing a pen. “Fine. But you’re going to Japan for treatment.”

She laughed. “Do you really think I’m that sick? Please, I’m Mrs. Esposito.”

She stood, still smiling, and walked out. Alessandro stared at the door in disbelief.

“Wait… did I just get played? Oh God—I’m burning this fucking hospital down.”

---

 9PM

Marianna lay sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone and munching caramel popcorn. Dressed in a pink crop top and blue shorts, she looked up as the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” she called, padding to the door. Peeking through the peephole, she smiled. Leonardo.

She opened the door and was immediately pulled into a tight hug.

“Babe, I missed you. I’ve been calling—you weren’t answering,” he said, holding her like she might vanish.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realize my phone was on silent,” she murmured as they walked inside.

“Where were you? Even Angela didn’t know.”

She bit her finger unconsciously.

“You always do that when you’re nervous. Talk to me.”

She sighed and explained everything.

“I thought she changed, Leo. I miss her,” she whispered, eyes brimming.

He pulled her to sit beside him and wrapped his arms around her.

“Not all mothers deserve the title. But maybe, one day, she’ll come around.”

Marianna broke the hug, tears slipping down.

“When Dad was framed for murder, she never defended him. He went to prison for something he didn’t do… and she just married someone else. Left me with Aunt Meekha, who isn’t even my real mother, but raised me like her own.”

She sobbed. “When it all happened, Aunt almost lost her mind, but Mum didn’t care. If you hadn’t shown up that day, Leo, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

His heart clenched at the memory, but he masked it with a soft smile and kissed her forehead.

“Stop bringing it up. It’s in the past now. I’ve got you.”

“I love you so damn much,” she whispered as their lips met in a hot, desperate kiss.

He broke it with a grin. “You sure it’s okay doing this here? I wouldn’t want Aunt Meekha to walk in on us.”

“She’s on night shift. We’re alone tonight,” she teased, straddling his lap as they kissed again.

But the moment shattered when her phone beeped.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, checking the screen. Her smile faded.

LET'S MEET TOMORROW. I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO DISCUSS WITH YOU. DON'T BE LATE. SAME RESTAURANT.

Leo noticed. “What’s wrong?”

She forced a smile. “Nothing serious.”

---

Marianna entered the restaurant and was led to a reserved table. Her mother sat there, sipping her drink, a smile playing on her lips.

Marianna didn’t return it. She sat across from her with cold eyes.

“Don’t get it twisted. I’m only here because I have something to say. First, never call me again. And don’t you dare ask about my father—you lost that right long ago.”

Beatrice smiled, unfazed. “Are you done?” She slid a file across the table.

Marianna glanced at it with disgust. “What the hell is this?”

She opened it.

“A marriage certificate?” she spat. “What the hell does this have to do with me?”

Beatrice took her hands. “Congratulations, darling. You’re getting married.”

Marianna burst into laughter. “You’ve lost your mind. You must be confusing me with Luna. Why the hell is my name on this?”

“Stop yelling. I hate public scenes,” Beatrice hissed.

“You’re not worthy of being a mother,” Mariana whispered.

“I’m doing this for you. You deserve the best man on earth. It’s my duty as your mother—”

“Why don’t you focus on Luna then?” she snapped, standing to leave. “I’m done with your bullshit.”

Beatrice’s voice stopped her cold.

“I’m not asking. It’s not a request—it’s an offer. You’ll accept, eventually. Think of your father—his health is deteriorating. What if he dies in prison? What if Aunt Meekha suffers too?”

Mariana froze.

“I’m not threatening you, darling. Just reminding you of your reality. I can get your father out. One petition, and he might qualify for compassionate release.”

Beatrice stood. “Five days till the wedding. Time’s ticking.”

She patted Marianna’s shoulder and walked out.

Marianna stood motionless, tears spilling freely. Her father. Her aunt. The man she loved.

Leo…

Her phone beeped again.

MISS LORENZO, WE HAVE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU SINCE YESTERDAY. YOUR DAD’S HEALTH IS NO LONGER A JOKE.

She read it and burst into sobs, running out of the restaurant into the unknown.