The Lie He Fed Me

Vincent's mother, Maria, came over, beaming, and pulled me to her side. She had been one of the biggest cheerleaders for our marriage and had always acted pleased with me.

Forced to give up her spot, Sophia shot me a look of pure hatred before moving away. But as I sat down, I saw Vincent’s eyes follow her.

I didn't want to watch. I raised my wine glass to hide the cold smirk on my lips.

Then Maria turned to me, her smile a little too bright.

"Elena, dear, you and Vincent have been married for five years now. When are you going to give the Romano family a little baby?"

Laughter rippled around the table as other family members chimed in.

"The family is very eager for the next heir, you know."

I felt the blood drain from my face. My fingers tightened around my glass. For me, this topic was like rubbing salt in a gaping wound.

Just as I was struggling for a response, Sophia stood up gracefully, one hand resting on her swollen belly.

"Auntie, don't pressure Elena," she said, her voice angelic. "These things happen when they're meant to. You can't force fate."

She walked over to me, her face a mask of concern. "Elena, I know this must be a sensitive subject. As your friend, I want to apologize for being so thoughtless."

With that, she raised her champagne flute. "Let me toast to you. To our friendship."

Every eye in the room was on us. I knew refusing would be a scene. I picked up my glass, ready to take a token sip.

Suddenly, Vincent shot to his feet and snatched the glass from Sophia’s hand.

"Sophia, you're pregnant. You can't drink," he said, his voice full of concern. Then he turned to me, his tone hardening. "Elena, you should know better than to let a pregnant woman drink."

He pushed the champagne flute into my hand. "You drink it for her. It's not like one glass is going to make a difference after five years of nothing."

The table went silent.

I looked at Vincent, the man I once loved, as he publicly humiliated me in front of his entire family, in front of his mistress.

The relatives exchanged awkward glances.

I saw a flash of triumph in Sophia’s eyes. She’d won. She’d made Vincent choose her in front of everyone.

Slowly, I stood up. I took the glass of champagne and smiled at Sophia.

"You're right, Sophia. As a friend, I should be more understanding." I paused, my voice carrying across the silent room. "After all, even if that baby is Vincent’s, I could never blame you."

Then I downed the entire glass in one go.

The room was dead silent.

Don Romano's expression soured. I couldn't tell if it was because of Vincent's stunt, or because I had ruined the party for everyone.

Vincent’s turned ashen. Maria’s fork clattered onto her plate.

Whispers erupted around us. Sophia looked like she’d seen a ghost.

I set the empty glass down and elegantly picked up my clutch. "I do apologize for spoiling the mood. Happy birthday, Don Romano."

And with that, I turned and walked out, leaving chaos in my wake.

Vincent was shouting my name, but I didn't look back.

I slid into the first taxi I saw.

"The airport, please."

"Elena! Elena, wait!" Vincent came running out, but the taxi was already pulling away.

In the rearview mirror, I saw him standing there, a look of panic on his face I had never seen before.

On the way to the airport, I opened my phone and found the screenshots I’d saved of Sophia’s post.

I sent the pictures to the Romano family group chat, then typed one last message.

【To the elders, the child Sophia is carrying is Vincent’s. My lawyer is drawing up the divorce papers. Thank you for your hospitality these past five years. Consider our alliance over.】

I hit send.

Then I turned off my phone.

As the plane prepared for takeoff, I looked out at the lights of the city. I felt no regret, only relief.

Everything in this city—the Romano mansion, Vincent's lies, Sophia's provocations—was now in my past.

I was going to New York. I was going to the man who had waited five years for me.