He Chose His Mistress, So I Chose Me

“There will be no wedding!” My voice cracked, raw and ragged, carrying the weight of a heartbreak too heavy to bear. “I’m ending the engagement. It’s over.”

The room fell silent. Dante stared at me, stunned, as if I had spoken in a language he didn’t understand. His lips parted, then curved into a smirk that wasn’t remorse—it was disbelief.

“You’re overreacting again,” he said, and actually laughed—like my pain was some trivial joke, a passing mood. “Althea… you can’t just leave me like this. You love me too much for that.”

His arrogance struck harder than any blow.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, chest heaving. “I can. And I will. Watch me.”

I wanted him to argue, to beg, to pull me into his arms like he used to. But Dante simply shrugged, turning away as if I were nothing but a minor inconvenience.

“Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said.

Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.

Before I could yell at him, a soft, hesitant voice drifted from the hallway. “Dante… Althea… are you arguing… because of me?”

Elise. She stood at the doorway in a silk robe, hair tousled, pale as if the night had drained her color. Her hands were clasped together, fragile, delicate, like she might shatter if I touched her wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, almost breathless. “The wedding was postponed… it’s my fault. I was sick. Please don’t blame Dante. You can always do it again.”

Something inside me broke.

“Don’t apologize,” I spat, my voice trembling with fury. “Be honest. You wanted this. You wanted him. And now you have him. Congratulations.”

“Althea!” Dante’s roar shook the walls. “What are you doing? She’s unwell! Why pick a fight?”

Elise stepped forward, eyes glistening, shaking her head. “Please… don’t hate me. I never meant to come between you. I just… wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Her hand reached for mine—soft, hesitant, fake.

I slapped it away.

The sound echoed through the hall. Elise gasped, stumbling back, eyes wide. Dante froze, stunned.

Before either of them could speak, I spun, stormed into my room, and slammed the door, locking it.

“Althea!” Dante pounded on the wood, fists shaking it. “Open up! Don’t make me punish you. Hear me?”

I pressed my back against the door, tears streaming freely.

From the other side, Elise’s voice cut through, trembling but venomous. “She deserves it, Dante. Don’t let her treat me like this. Don’t let her ruin you.”

Her words pierced deeper than the slap I’d given her.

“Don’t worry,” Dante’s voice said finally, calm now. “I’ll deal with her tomorrow. For now, you should rest.”

And they were gone.

I sank to the floor, sobs wracking me. Back then, when I had been angry with Dante, he would move heaven and earth to make me forgive him. Standing outside my dorm in pouring rain with roses. Writing me letters daily, sliding them under my door until I laughed through tears. He never let me cry alone.

Now? He left me here, behind a locked door, while Elise whispered poison in his ear.

The tears didn’t stop. My chest heaved violently, my sobs shaking the room. And outside, their laughter—her laughter, his laughter—cut into me like ice.

Then the moaning began.

I pressed my hands to my ears, but it didn’t help. Their voices seeped through every crack, cruel reminders that I was no longer wanted, no longer chosen. Exhaustion dragged me down eventually, and I fell into a restless, tear-stained sleep.

Morning sunlight burned through my swollen eyes. The door burst open. Dante stood there, towering, fury in every line of his face.

“Get up.” His voice was steel. He yanked the blankets off me.

“What—” I gasped.

“Did you think about last night?” His tone was sharp, unyielding. “Apologize to her. Now.”

I pushed myself up slowly, voice raw. “No. I won’t. I did nothing wrong. She ruined this—ruined us.”

Dante’s gaze darkened. “Do you hear yourself? She saved me, Althea. Without her, I might not even be alive. Can’t you show some gratitude?”

My lips trembled. “I was grateful. Not anymore.”

I tried to walk past him, but his hand clamped onto my wrist. Then the sting came.

His slap rang out, sharp and deafening.

“That’s for slapping her,” he spat. “Now get dressed. We’re going out.”

I clutched my cheek. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

“Because Elise wants to go out to eat. And you’re coming. She wants you there. If you want to marry me, you’ll have to deal with her. That’s how it is. Fix your attitude—or there really won’t be a wedding.”

The words stole my breath. My heart twisted in my chest, but minutes later, I was dragged into the car.

Dante drove. Elise sat beside him, laughter spilling like poison into the air. And me? I sat behind them, invisible, forgotten.

By the time we reached the restaurant, dusk had turned the sky gray. Snowflakes swirled in the bitter wind. The asphalt was slick, the air sharp and cold.

We stepped into the parking lot, heels clicking on icy ground, arms wrapped around ourselves for warmth.

Then it happened.

A truck skidded down the street, horn blaring, tires screeching. Chaos erupted—screams, flashing lights, pounding footsteps.

I froze at the crosswalk, headlights blinding me. My body refused to move, my mind empty.

Dante ran—but not to me.

He lunged for Elise, pulling her into his arms as if she were the only thing that mattered.

I was left standing alone.

The impact hit like thunder. Pain shot through every nerve, ripping the breath from my lungs. The world exploded into snow, red lights, and screaming voices.

And then—darkness.