He Chose His Mistress, So I Chose Me

For days, my existence had narrowed down to one thing: packing, sorting, and methodically erasing every trace of a love that had already died. I had instructed my uncle to handle the legalities of selling off my properties, and one by one, I released myself from everything Dante had ever given me—cars, jewelry, even the house that had once promised a future with him.

Every token that had once felt like devotion now felt like chains, heavy and suffocating, and I wanted nothing more than to shatter them.

Elise’s things were gathered too. I couldn’t stand the thought of her belongings strewn around my home as if she belonged here. Some were boxed and sent away; others, I simply discarded. Dust and detergent filled the air, but at least the house felt like mine again, if only for a fleeting moment.

I was scrubbing the living room table when voices drifted from the back terrace. Dante’s voice—low, careless, and thoughtless—cut through the air. I froze, the damp rag trembling in my hand.

“Mom, I told you, okay? I don’t care that she refuses to marry me. So what? She’ll come crawling soon enough, whining and dramatic as always.”

My chest constricted at his words.

“Honestly… even if she were dead, I doubt I’d care. I regret even promising her that wedding. I was a fool.”

Blades of rage and disbelief cut through me. My knees almost gave out, but I clutched the table, steadying myself. That—those words—that was my breaking point. Twenty years of loyalty, love, and sacrifice, and to him, my life, my death, my very existence amounted to nothing.

I dropped the rag and headed straight for the door. I didn’t care if he saw me or not.

Before I could reach it, a piercing voice echoed behind me. “What’s happening here?! Why are my things outside? Why are you throwing everything away?”

I turned slowly, my tone calm though my heart roared. “This is my home. I will decide what happens here.”

Her eyes widened, instantly glistening with tears—I recognized the act, bitterly practiced. She looked like a child seeking her protector when Dante appeared.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

Elise flung herself into his arms, sobbing. “She’s throwing me out!”

I faced him, my expression hardening. “Dante, this house is mine because you gave it to me. That means I decide who stays. If I say Elise must go, she goes.”

His jaw tightened, eyes flashing. “You think you can wield that against me? Don’t forget who put you here. I gave you this house, not for you to throw fits and kick out whoever I let in.”

I straightened my back, unshaken. “This isn’t a tantrum. This is me reclaiming what’s mine. If you want her around so badly, fine—you can both leave. I want neither of you under my roof.”

Dante’s face darkened further, a low growl in his voice. “Are you doing this because you think my mother will back you? You think her favor gives you power?” He shook his head, laughing bitterly. “Pathetic. Doesn’t matter. Elise’s leaving anyway. I’ve already bought her a bigger house.”

My eyes flicked to Elise. Her tears vanished instantly, replaced by a sly, triumphant smile. “You did?” she cooed, feigning innocence.

“Yes,” Dante said, final.

Elise turned to me, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’m sorry for overstaying my welcome.” She stepped closer, hugging me as if I would believe her act of gratitude.

Her whisper, though, burned against my ear: “I’m leaving with him. I’ll never let him come back to you.”

I closed my eyes briefly, then pulled away, expression unreadable. “Do as you wish,” I said, my voice sharp. Then I faced Dante. “Go ahead. Marry her. I’ve chosen another man anyway.”

His laughter filled the room. “You? Don’t joke, Althea. Who would want you after twenty years with me? Do you think anyone would accept a woman like you?”

I didn’t respond. My heart pounded with rage and grief, but he would never know the worth of a woman who had given her youth, loyalty, and everything to him.

Dante smirked, triumphant. “I’ll come back once Elise settles in. We’ll talk then… and don’t forget, our registry wedding is scheduled for tomorrow, so maybe you’ll finally shut up about us not getting married.”

Before I could speak, Elise clutched her stomach dramatically. “Dante… I think I’m going to be sick.”

His focus snapped entirely to her. Just like that, I disappeared from his world, invisible once again in her presence.

I stepped outside, the evening air sharp against my skin. My chest was heavy, but a strange clarity settled in. Enough.

There is no wedding. Tomorrow, I will leave. Tomorrow, I will end this cycle of betrayal and humiliation once and for all.

I packed through the night, each garment folded with numb, deliberate hands. Drawers emptied, photo albums tossed, wedding dresses put aside—every item a chain I was shedding.

At last, I sat in the quiet house. My phone buzzed. Dante.

What do you want?

I’m coming home tonight. I’ll make it up to you and the promised wedding. Tell me, Althea—what do you want?

I let a dry, humorless smile curve my lips. What I wanted, he could no longer give—respect, loyalty, truth. But he would understand this last request.

I typed slowly, deliberately, each word final:

Bring me a blueberry cheesecake.