Seven Years as a Substitute

After the IV finished, I felt even dizzier. I took a few steps down the corridor and almost stumbled, catching myself against the wall where the fluorescent light hummed above a faded print of the Madonna.

Dominic still hadn't returned. No calls, no messages.

Reluctantly, I decided to call him first to avoid any misunderstandings. When he heard I was still at the clinic, he paused for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Bianca. I planned to come back for you right after taking Serafina home, but her stomach started acting up, so…"

Before he could finish, I overheard a waitress in the background. "Sir, your dishes are all served. Please enjoy your meal!"

Though Dominic quickly covered the receiver, I'd already heard it all.

"It's fine. I'm on my own. I can manage."

I said it to reassure myself and to reassure him.

Just as I was about to hang up, he suddenly called out my name. "Bianca, just head home. I'll explain everything later."

Explain what, exactly? Just more lies to string me along.

I ended the call without a word and arranged for a driver to take me back to the apartment. The car moved through the city's streets, past blocks that belonged to the Marchetti territory, past restaurants where soldiers ate for free and shopkeepers never called the police. I watched it all slide past the window and felt nothing.

But that night, Dominic didn't come back.

Kept awake by the fireworks outside, I pulled out my tablet and resumed sketching custom jewelry designs for a client. The work steadied my hands when nothing else would. While working, I accidentally brushed the chat app in the lower right corner and a new post from an hour ago appeared.

It was from Serafina: a beautiful shot of fireworks bursting against the night sky, captioned with poetic words:

"After half a lifetime away, I return to you. And here, the fireworks bloom, a welcome in all its glory!"

I stared at the post for a long time, only realizing when I tried to log out that the chat app was still logged into Dominic's account on my tablet. I felt uninterested in prying into their flirtations. I simply logged out of the app.

The next morning, feeling somewhat refreshed, I arrived at the studio on time. The workshop sat on a quiet block three streets outside Marchetti territory, a space I'd chosen deliberately. In here, no one knew whose woman I was. No one cared.

The manager held my resignation letter and when she heard I was going back home to get married, she looked both happy and wistful.

"With you leaving, I'm losing one of my best team members."

Unsure of what to say, I gave her a hug and thanked her for all the support over the years.

After completing the formalities, my colleagues heard the news and insisted on a farewell meal to celebrate my upcoming wedding. I didn't decline and booked a table at a restaurant Dominic and I frequented. It was one of the few restaurants I knew and the food was genuinely good. A Family-connected place, white tablecloths and heavy curtains, the kind of establishment where the owner greeted certain guests by name and never presented a bill unless asked.

Halfway through the meal, I excused myself to go to the restroom, only to run into Serafina.

She greeted me warmly. "Didn't expect to see you here, too! You know, this was the restaurant Dominic first brought me to back before he took over the Family. We've come here so many times."

I gave her a polite smile and was about to leave, not considering our relationship close enough for small talk. But she didn't seem to feel the same. Just as I was about to go, she stopped me again.

"I noticed last time that Dominic always rinses the shrimp in water before peeling it for you. Do you also not eat spicy food?"

The word also made me pause for a moment.

The truth is, I do enjoy spicy food. But every time Dominic peeled shrimp for me, he'd insist on rinsing it in water. He always said it wasn't good for a girl to eat too much spice.

I had always thought he was looking out for my health.

But now, I realized it was simply a habit. My right hand drifted to the ring on my thumb. I turned it once, slowly. Then stopped.

The one who didn't eat spicy food. The one he was thinking of. It was Serafina.