Never to Meet Again

The next morning, Corleone came home carrying Lilia's favorite rose perfume on him.

In his hand was my favorite apple pie, his deep eyes filled with affection.

"Eat it while it's still warm. I made a special trip to the Hillsbalt to buy it."

I lowered my gaze.

Just ten minutes earlier, Lilia had posted a new story of her and a man in bed on Instagram.

Though neither of their faces was visible, the blooming rose tattoo on the man's chest clearly identified him as Corleone.

I'd once asked him why he had a rose tattoo.

Back then, he had kissed my eyes and said, "Because my wife, Isabella, loves roses."

When I told him that my favorite flower was actually camellias, he froze for a moment before pretending to be annoyed with himself.

"It’s my mistake. I'll get it removed tomorrow and replace it with a camellia for you."

I couldn't bear the thought of him going through the pain of removing a tattoo, so I stopped him.

Now that I thought about it, it wasn't that he remembered wrong.

Lilia was the one who loved roses.

Corleone cut into the pie and spoke casually.

"Sweetheart, Lilia's back in the country. I'm planning to host a party at the estate tonight. How about we invite them over for a celebration and a family reunion?"

I looked into his eyes, which were filled with tenderness.

I used to think that tenderness belonged only to me. Now I knew it had always been for another woman.

"Sure," I said with a smile and nodded.

Although I hated Lilia and my stepmother, my father was still here, and so were my friends.

Since I was about to leave, I wanted to say goodbye to them properly.

That evening, Lilia arrived at the party with her arm linked through Giovanni's.

The entire family came with her.

Guests surrounded her, congratulating her on her successful career and happy family.

Like someone blessed with the perfect life, she basked in everyone's attention.

I only exchanged greetings with my friend Ivy, paying no attention to them.

When Lilia saw me, she called out sweetly, "Isabella."

She walked over, but her eyes were full of provocation and smug satisfaction.

Looking at her hypocritical smile, I was reminded of our graduation ceremony five years ago.

In front of everyone, Giovanni had proposed to Lilia.

She had looked at me with the same expression of triumph and disdain back then. And on that very day, Corleone had come to my side and told me he loved me.

Only now did I realize that both men had loved her all along.

I had merely been a tool in their game.

I ignored her, and my stepmother immediately began mocking me.

"Isabella, what kind of attitude is that? Lilia was nice enough to greet you. Why are you giving her the cold shoulder?"

Lilia quickly put on a magnanimous act and grabbed my stepmother's arm.

"Mom, don't blame Isabella. Maybe she's just in a bad mood. I don't mind."

As she spoke, she deliberately raised her hand, revealing the ring on her finger.

I knew that ring all too well.

It was a matching set I had designed myself. One ring for a man and the other for a woman, and Lilia was wearing the woman's ring.

On the fourth anniversary of my marriage to Corleone last year, I had happily shown him the design sketches.

He promised me he would use the finest gemstones in the world to bring them to life. Then we would each wear one and never take them off.

I grabbed Lilia's wrist.

"Where did you get that ring?"

The nearby guests were immediately drawn over.

Many began praising how beautiful it was.

Someone recognized the design.

"Isn't that 'Eternal Heart’, the ring that won the gold at the Lanford Design Competition? So it was designed by you, Lilia!"

The crowd immediately broke into praise.

My father and stepmother looked especially proud.

"Lilia, we're so proud of you!"

Lilia lifted her chin smugly.

"This ring is my award-winning design. It was also a gift from someone very special to me. He helped turn my design into a finished piece. Isabella, no matter how much you like it, I can't give it to you."

Then her eyes reddened, putting on the appearance of someone being bullied and letting a few tears fall.

The guests immediately began criticizing me.

"Isabella is way too jealous."

"Her sister won an award, and instead of congratulating her, she tried to steal her ring."

Just then, Corleone walked over.

I looked at him and confronted him. "Corleone, I designed that ring. You clearly promised me—"

However, he cut me off.

Holding my hand, he spoke gently, as though soothing a child.

"You must be mistaken. There are so many similar jewelry designs these days. It's just a ring. I'll buy you another one.

"Lilia is your sister. As the older sister, let her have this one. Don't argue with her, okay?"

Staring at my husband standing before me, his eyes filled with impatience and protectiveness towards Lilia, I realized there was no point arguing anymore.

After all, my five-year marriage had been a carefully planned lie from beginning to end.

My heart ached, but in the end, I simply smiled.

"You're right. Some things really aren't meant to be mine."