Page 23 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

I return the gesture without answering, unable to force out a single word.

Lunch unfolds in a strange, strained atmosphere despite everyone’s efforts.

Seated between Vadim and Andrea, I face the couple across the table.

Bianca talks constantly, jumping from one subject to another, filling every silence with the restless energy of someone afraid of what silence might reveal.

Amelia, Vadim, and Andrea respond politely, taking turns keeping the conversation alive and preserving the illusion of normalcy.

Dante barely unclenches his jaw the entire meal.

He answers in monosyllables. His eyes stay on his plate, the window, his parents—everywhere except me.

Throughout lunch, Bianca keeps playing with her engagement ring.

Then Dante’s gaze drifts toward my hands.

His expression darkens.

I removed my wedding band and engagement ring this morning. It took me a long time, standing in front of the mirror with both rings resting in my palm. Cold metal I’d worn for seven years.

I placed them inside a jewelry box and closed the lid.

He was the first one to remove his.

You can’t force someone to love you.

His face reveals nothing. Impossible to know what he’s thinking.

Then suddenly, Bianca changes the subject.

“I stopped by Dior this week for the final alterations on my wedding dress. Good thing the wedding’s soon, because I’ve put on a little weight.” She laughs lightly. “A little more and people might start thinking I’m pregnant.”

My fork slips from my fingers.

It hits the plate with a sharp clatter that echoes through the silence like a gunshot.

Every head turns toward me.

A fleeting smile flashes across Bianca’s face before disappearing instantly.

She just wants to destabilize me.

Nothing more.

“Is your migraine bothering you again?” Amelia asks gently, offering me a graceful escape.

“Yes,” I say quietly. “A little.”

I slip away to the greenhouse during coffee. The air inside the house feels impossible to breathe.

What the hell was I thinking, coming here?

The scent hits me before I can defend myself: cedarwood and citrus.

My body recognizes it before my mind does.

He’s there, right behind me.