Chapter 2 - New York’s Golden Couple

POV: Regina

I stared at the screen for so long that my eyes began to hurt, but somehow, I couldn’t stop scrolling.

I scrolled through the photos one by one. There were so many of them and every single image felt like a knife slicing deep inside me.

Adrian and Seraphina stood beneath glittering chandeliers, looking beautiful together, while the cameras flashed around them.

In a short video, Adrian’s hand rested against Seraphina’s lower back while he guided her towards the event entrance, protectively and intimately.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the painful pressure building up in my chest.

In the three years that we’ve been engaged, Adrian has never publicly acknowledged me. 

Not once. Infact, I doubted if anyone else aside our families and close colleagues knew that we were engaged. 

But these photos have been live for less than two hours, and the whole of Manhattan was already celebrating his reunion with her.

I exited i*******m and tossed my phone on the table before pressing both hands against my face.

“Breathe, Regina,” I muttered to myself, my lips quivering quietly. “Just breathe.”

I told myself those words over and over again, but my chest hurt too badly for that. 

My pain wasn’t even about Seraphina. It was about what the photographs confirmed; I was a hidden convenience for Adrian.

No matter how many times he whispered that he loved me or the ring sitting on my finger, the world didn't know of my existence and still thought another woman belonged to him.

And the worst part?

A small part of me had always known that, but chose to ignore it. Because I loved him.

I was so naive.

My eyes slowly drifted to the small white envelope beside my untouched plate.

For several seconds, I just stared at it.  Then I reached for it carefully, pulled out the positive pregnancy test and held it beneath the light.

I stared at the two red lines while my emotions twisted violently in my chest. 

Only a few hours ago, I’d thought this baby would finally fix everything for us. I’d thought it would finally make him see that there are things more precious than his beloved empire.

I almost laughed at my stupidity, but the pain in my chest was greater.

I’d thought that maybe Adrian would finally stop hiding us. That maybe he’d finally choose me loudly, publicly. 

But now…

My vision blurred suddenly and the first tear slid down my cheek before I could stop it.

Then another tear dropped.

And another.

I covered my mouth with my hand as a broken, stifled sound escaped my throat.

God. I felt so humiliated.

I felt humiliated for being the secret while another woman looked like home to him. 

I didn’t wipe my tears. I just sat there and let them fall freely, because I think I needed to feel it fully before I could make myself move.

After what seemed like forever, I finally stood up from the chair, and walked toward the bedroom.

The penthouse—which I’d made my second home—suddenly felt unfamiliar around me. It seemed too large, cold and uncomfortable. Everything felt like a lie.

I pulled one of my suitcases out of the closet and dropped it on the bed before opening it.

Then I just stood there staring at it, a million thoughts going through my head.

My eyes drifted around the bedroom, catching Adrian’s watch resting on the dresser and his side of the bed.

My chest tightened painfully as the memories we created here flashed before my eyes.

It took everything in me to ignore the building emotions and open the closet. I began pulling down my clothes and folding whatever my hands touched first—dresses, shoes, toiletries, important documents. Anything.

I didn’t let myself think too hard, because I knew that if I stopped to think, I wouldn’t leave.

And I knew that if Adrian walked through those doors right now and touched me, or spoke to me, the way he always did…I’d stay.

That terrified me more than anything.

Another tear slipped down my face and I wiped with the back of my palm, zipping the suitcase shut roughly. 

I looked around the bedroom one last time before grabbing my coat and heading back toward the dining area.

The dining table still looked like something from a love story, not just mine anymore.

I looked at the diamond ring on my finger for a long moment, and slowly, I slid it off. 

For a moment, I simply held it in my palm.

Three years of loving Adrian Moretti and waiting for him to finally make space for me inside his world.

Three years of convincing myself that patience was proof of love.

This time, I didn’t try to stop the tears from flowing. I let them wash out my emotions.

Then I placed the ring gently on the table beside the untouched dinner, picked up the pregnancy test and my phone, and slid them into my purse.

I picked up the suitcase, turned off the kitchen light and walked towards the elevator without looking back. 

In the elevator, my red rimmed eyes stared back at me from the mirrored walls, one hand gripping the suitcase handle and the other trembling hand pressed protectively against my stomach.

And suddenly, everything inside me shifted. As the elevator descended, I realized that I wasn’t alone anymore.

“It’s just us now, baby,” I whispered softly.