Chapter 144
The drive home was punctuated by the insistent buzz of Antonio’s phone — messages from Mandy.
She was checking on him and ensuring his safe arrival. I unlocked his phone, intending a polite reply, but a chat with one of his friends stopped me cold. “I told Mandy I’m getting married, and if she doesn’t show, I’m done with her.”
The phone went dark. My breath hitched.
The proposal, three days ago, made sickening sense now.
No ring, no shared home, just a whispered,“Don’t tell our families.”
I’d assumed it was guilt over not giving me the wedding I deserved.
The eight–year dream had been a cruel ploy to lure Mandy back.
Hope died.
I closed my eyes, repeating the mantra: leave.
Three days until the wedding.
David called, “Finish your tasks before you go.”
“Got it.” I ended the call.
Antonio, irritated, demanded, “Where are you going?”
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“Work,” I said, forcing a smile.
He didn’t press, settling onto the couch with snacks.
284 Vouchers.
Then, confused, he asked, “Why did you give me honey water?”
I stammered, inventing a reason, For your stomach.”
His face hardened. “Don’t pretend you care.”
I managed a weak smile. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.”
The next day was for wedding photos.
Antonio acted as if nothing was amiss, distant and detached.
I’d seen his tenderness for Mandy, a tenderness never offered
to me.
Before leaving after breakfast, I checked my phone.
Antonio’s message was unexpected: “Let’s take the photos at the university. Our professors and friends should share our joy.”
A hollow chuckle escaped me.
He thought he had the upper hand.
He wanted to see Mandy, who’d posted that morning about being back at our alma mater.
I didn’t call him out, my departure imminent.
I chose dress comfortable for walking.
At the sports field, Antonio’s eyes darted until they found Mandy.
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He abandoned me, rushing towards her.
The confused photographer asked, “What’s wrong with your husband?”
I offered an awkward smile. “Nothing. Let’s end the shoot.”
I approached Antonio, clutching my dress, as he chatted amiably with Mandy.
His jacket was discarded, his appearance far from groom–like.
He saw me, his brow furrowing.
He seemed terrified I’d expose him.
He positioned between us. “You should go home. I need to talk to Mandy.”
“I’m leaving,” I said. “Work to finish.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes. He hadn’t expected me to leave so calmly.
“Call me later,” he nodded, his expression softening.
As I turned, I heard him tell Mandy, “Don’t worry. Grace got a modeling gig at a bridal shop. She’s been begging me to model with her.”
Exhaustion washed over me.
At the office, David confirmed the Fiassi job.
That night, Antonio had dinner ready, which was unexpected.
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He quickly hid his phone as I entered, looking uneasy.
“Your favorite steak. You lost weight today,” Antonio said, placing it before me.
I saw my hollow cheeks in the window.
I hadn’t eaten much since discovering the photos.
“I ate at the office,” I said, heading to my room.
Antonio clutched my arm, his voice frantic. “Are you upset about Mandy?”
I shook my head, too weary to fight.
He followed me to the bedroom, hugging me from behind, his tone desperate. “Grace, say something.”
It might have been the first flicker of genuine care in eight years.
But it was too late. My heart had moved on. I was better off without him.
