“She canceled everything herself,” the woman replied, her voice growing more cautious. “The cathedral, the hotel, the flowers, the cars. She confirmed every arrangement in person and settled the remaining balance. We were told the wedding would not be taking place.”The room went dead silent.Luca’s fingers tightened around the phone.After the call ended, he dialed my number.No answer.He called again.Still nothing.After dozens of unanswered calls, Luca finally convinced himself I was only making a scene.“She’ll come back,” he said at last, his voice cold and impatient. “She’s angry. Let her calm down for a day.”In his mind, I had loved him for eight years, given up too much for him, and built too much of my life around him to leave for real. Canceling the wedding was just my way of forcing him to choose, of punishing him for humiliating me, of making him come after me first.So he did not look for me immediately.He only told people to keep quiet, to hold the press back, and to
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