Chapter 3

The next morning, I was woken up by a call from customer service.

The woman on the line asked me:

"Ms. Bellini, may I ask why you're canceling the shoot?"

"We've already reserved the venue and wardrobe. Don Moretti personally confirmed every design detail."

"If you cancel now, we won't be able to refund the deposit."

My head was pounding. I felt groggy and dazed.

I answered, my voice hoarse:

"Then don't."

"Ms. Bellini? That's fifty thousand dollars. Our team is top-tier. Don Moretti waited a long time to book..."

"I said don't bother."

A pause on the other end. Then, finally:

"Understood."

"We'll notify Don Moretti that the wedding shoot has been canceled."

I hung up.

I found that Adrian had made me breakfast.

But it had gone completely cold.

I wasn't feeling well, so I heated it up and ate it. Easier than making something else.

Then Adrian texted me.

"Emma, I got the notification that you canceled the shoot."

Before I could respond, he sent another message, sounding almost relieved.

"Looks like you saw the note I left on the wall by the dining table. Thanks for understanding. I'll be back as soon as I can."

I turned and looked at the note stuck to the wall beside the table.

"Overseas business hit a snag. Today's engagement shoot needs to be canceled."

I didn't bother explaining.

Once my phone connected to the overseas network, I saw that Lily had posted something new.

Their wedding had been moved up.

That was the real reason Adrian had rushed abroad.

The post showed a beautiful seaside restaurant.

I could see Adrian's parents. I could see all the friends we used to share.

Moretti family bodyguards stood not far away, like a wall of black, shutting out the rest of the world.

Adrian and Lily sat at the table, fingers laced together.

It looked like a wonderful time.

It hit me suddenly that none of these people had really changed.

I was the only one who'd been left behind.

In the empty apartment, I chewed on the cold breakfast.

My phone chimed with a booking confirmation.

Destination: New Zealand. Far away. Quiet.

I'd never been. But it seemed like the right place for me.

I started packing.

Looking around the apartment we'd shared for three years, my vision blurred for a moment.

I remembered when the three of us first started the security company and sat around that dining table with friends, drinking and making vows.

Back then, we said we'd make it a legitimate business, break free from the family shadows, and finally stand on our own.

They'd laughed and joked that when we made it big, they'd definitely come drink at my wedding to Adrian.

Now the place was empty. No one left.

Every item I packed dredged up an old memory.

Red wine, champagne, mixtapes, videos of us dancing. They documented so many anniversaries Adrian and I had celebrated in this home.

Looking back, yes, it had been sweet. But sweet was all it ever was.

I threw it all in the trash and turned to pack my clothes.

It took a long time. Most of it I threw away. What actually made it into the suitcase was barely anything.

Adrian called me at some point.

I didn't pick up.

It rang a few more times, then he stopped calling and just sent me a message.

A photo and an update.

In the photo, he was meeting with some foreign clients.

The message read: "Just landed. Having dinner."

Thinking this might be the last message I'd ever send him, I kept things civil.

I took a photo of my packed bags and sent it to him.

His reply came fast.

"What are you packing for?"

"I'm leaving."

"..."

He went quiet for a moment, then explained:

"Emma, canceling the photo shoot doesn't mean canceling our wedding."

"Don't be upset. I really did run into some trouble, but I'll be back soon. I've got a surprise for you. The wedding's still on. Don't do this."

I didn't reply.

This wasn't some act I was putting on over a canceled photo shoot to get his attention.

I was just tired.

I knew Adrian's habits.

His surprises were never put together the same day.

He'd always hide a gift somewhere in the house weeks, sometimes a full month, in advance, and wait for me to stumble across it without saying a word.

He said it kept the anticipation alive for weeks.

I went to the spot where he usually hid things.

In an old trunk on the second level of the attic, I found a gold bracelet I'd once wanted badly.

The style and weight were both perfect.

This must have been the surprise he mentioned.

But beside it, I found a diary he'd never once told me about. It was filled with my mother's handwriting.

I opened it.

The first page had a single line.

"Emma, this is the truth your mother is leaving for you."