Chapter 2

Dante didn't come back until early the next morning.

The moment he walked in, he noticed me curled up on the bed.

"Elena?"

I let out a weak whimper when his cool fingertips touched my burning forehead.

He looked alarmed.

"Elena, you have a fever. I'm calling the doctor right now."

I shook my head and murmured that I wanted the chicken soup from my favorite little place in Brooklyn.

It was a small restaurant Dante used to drive me to all the time when we first got together.

Without stopping to worry about anything else, Dante gave me some fever medicine, grabbed his car keys, and left at once.

When I woke again, still dazed, it was evening outside.

On my phone was a message Dante had sent ten hours earlier.

[Elena, Bianca insisted that I have lunch with her. I won't be coming back today.] [I had the driver bring the soup back. Remember to eat it.]

The chicken soup had been sitting in the sun on the porch all day. It had already spoiled. It smelled sour and rotten.

It reminded me of what Dante and I had become.

Even something beautiful couldn't withstand the slow damage of time.

The tears came without warning. By then, I'd been hurting for so long that I felt numb.

This was the second time Dante had abandoned me for Bianca. There would only be more after this.

I looked at his photo and gave a quiet laugh.

Dante, you lied. You said you could give me everything except marriage. But now even your heart doesn't belong to me anymore.

That night, the moment Dante came home, he saw the soup I'd thrown in the trash.

He frowned, a trace of impatience flashing in his eyes.

In the end, though, he said nothing.

He lay down beside me, and I caught the scent of another woman's perfume—one I didn't recognize.

My stomach churned, and nausea rose in my throat.

This man had once belonged only to me. Now he carried traces of another woman on him.

Knowing the man beside me had just been with another woman brought wave after wave of sickening emotion.

I got up to go to the guest room, but Dante caught me by the wrist.

He seemed to understand what I was thinking and gave a soft laugh.

"This is all it takes to upset you? There'll be a lot more of this from now on. You'd better get used to it."

His expression suggested he thought this was perfectly reasonable. His words were poison.

Still, I had to admit he was right.

Dante seemed pleased when I didn't argue. He reached for my cheek, but I turned my head away.

His gaze darkened, and he spoke slowly.

"Elena, there's no need to act like this. I haven't done anything wrong."

When I still didn't respond, Dante finally lost what little patience he had left.

He picked up his car keys and headed out, throwing one last remark at me as he passed.

"You know the biggest difference between you and Bianca? Bianca never tells me no. She's always finding ways to make me happy."

He hesitated for a long moment at the door before finally speaking again.

"The Valenti family is holding a private dinner tomorrow night. Come with me."

The door slammed shut, and the room fell silent again.

The cloyingly sweet perfume still hung in the air.

I sprayed air freshener like I was losing my mind.

I didn't stop until I started dry-heaving.

Time really could change everything.

Even Dante, who had once said he loved me more than life itself, had changed without my noticing.

My phone lit up with a message from the old friend I hadn't spoken to in so long.

[Of course it does.] [It'll take some time to prepare the necessary paperwork. Hold on a little longer.]