The Night He Left Us in the Snow

Adrian did not take the invitation. He only looked at me, as if he had finally realized I was not stepping back the way he expected.

“This is not something you can cancel with one sentence.”

“Then consider this my formal notice.”

“Notice?” He gave a cold laugh. “Elena, this is a Moretti engagement, not a dinner date you and I can casually call off.”

“Then I have even less reason to go.”

“Does your father know you’re acting like this?”

When I did not answer, he went on. “You know better than anyone how long he prepared for tonight. That bottle he brought was not just a gift. He was telling the Moretti family that he recognized me, and that he approved of this marriage.”

The old silver cufflink was in my pocket. When I left the hospital, a nurse had handed it to me and said it was one of the things found on my father. I had kept it with me ever since, without taking it out or telling Adrian.

“Your father has always been more reasonable than you,” Adrian said. “He understands what the Moretti family means, and he understands what I can give you. Once he hears the explanation, he’ll tell you to stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Don’t use my father against me.”

“Why not? He trusts me.”

“You don’t deserve his trust.”

“Elena, are you determined to take this that far today?”

“You brought him into this first.”

“Because you’re no longer being reasonable. You can be angry about Lucia. You can be upset that I went to take care of her first that night. But you cannot deny that your father has always wanted you to marry me.”

I remembered my father getting into that black SUV and quietly telling me not to argue with Adrian in front of the Moretti estate. Tonight matters, he had said. Don’t let them look down on you.

I listened to him, so I did not stop Adrian, and I watched that car disappear into the snow.

“You truly think he would still want me to marry you?”

“Of course,” Adrian answered so quickly that arguing felt pointless.

I pushed the invitation toward him. “Take it.”

“I’ll call your father myself.”

“I said don’t call him.”

“What are you afraid of?” His voice lowered. “That he’ll find out you’re throwing away seven years over one photo Lucia posted?”

The cufflink dug into my palm through my pocket, its silver edge cold and hard.

“You won’t reach him.”

“You turned off his phone too?”

Adrian dialed my father’s number in front of me. A few seconds later, the familiar ringtone came from the black belongings bag on the entryway cabinet, muffled by the fabric.

His hand stalled in midair as his eyes moved to the bag. “What is that?”

“His things.”

“Why do you have them?”

Before he could keep questioning me, Lucia’s call came in.

He glanced at me and answered anyway.

Lucia’s tearful voice came through the phone. “Adrian, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have posted that photo. Is Elena very angry? If she doesn’t want to see me, I can move out of the estate… but I don’t think I can stand up right now.”

Adrian tightened his grip on the phone. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs, in the guest room. I don’t want to bother you, but it really hurts.”

In the past, this would have been where I asked whether he was leaving again, or whether she mattered more than I did. Now the answer was already in front of me, and I no longer needed to hear it from his mouth.

Adrian ended the call and picked up his coat. “Lucia needs me. I’ll be back later, and we’ll talk then.”

At the door, he added, “Leave the invitation where it is, and don’t upset her any further. As for your father, I’ll ask him myself when I come back.”

After Adrian left, I opened the black bag on the entryway cabinet. Inside were my father’s phone, his wallet, and the other old silver cufflink.

I placed the pair of cufflinks with my father’s documents and passport in the safe. The ring box and the engagement invitation stayed on the coffee table, like an order Adrian expected to find obeyed when he returned.

Half an hour later, Lucia updated her story.

In the photo, she sat on the sofa in a guest room at the Moretti estate, Adrian’s coat draped over her shoulders, with warm water and medicine beside her. Adrian was only half in frame, leaning down to adjust the blanket around her.

Thank you for always coming when I need you.

Then Lucia sent me a private message.

Elena, I’m sorry about tonight. Adrian said you were upset. I never meant for him to leave you because of me.

Another photo followed. Adrian was placing medicine beside her hand, and the Moretti crest at his cuff had been captured clearly in the frame.

I turned off my phone. When Adrian came back, he would find the ring box and the invitation exactly where they were, but he would not find me waiting there.