Wedding on the Same Day, but He's Not My Groom

Lorenzo was slightly displeased at my rare rejection. After all, I had never refused him anything in all these years.

"Did you read about something online again? It's just a bouquet of flowers."

I could tell Lorenzo was sounding me out. He didn't think I would be upset over a flower. He suspected I had seen something about him and Elena online, and that was why I was acting out.

I shook my head and replied, "I've been busy with family matters lately. No time for my phone."

He heaved a sigh of relief and ruffled my hair. "I've been busy, too. Once this is all over, we'll register our marriage and go on our honeymoon. I almost forgot that I came to give you this."

Lorenzo reached for his suit, pulled two musical tickets, and waved them teasingly in front of me. Then, he leaned close and whispered in my ear, "Come with me. It's compensation for not being able to get engaged right now."

If I hadn't heard what Lorenzo told his consigliere with my own ears, I might have been swept away by his sweet gesture.

But I didn't need that anymore. Before I could speak, Lorenzo's phone rang. He moved fast, but I caught a glimpse of his caller ID. It was Elena.

Lorenzo glanced at his phone, quickly slid the tickets back into his pocket, and pressed a hurried kiss to my forehead.

"Something happened at the port. I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow night. I'll pick you up."

He lied to me again. I stared blankly at the calendar. Tomorrow night? Was that really necessary?

This was the final performance of the musical troupe I had supported for five years. After the lead retired, the troupe would disband forever. Three months ago, I had casually complained to Lorenzo about not being able to get tickets. I hadn't expected him to remember.

There was nothing wrong with attending the musical. So, the next afternoon, I put on my makeup and got ready early. Lorenzo texted me saying something came up and that I should head there first. He'd be there soon, he said.

I waited at the theater entrance, dressed in a skirt and heels, from dusk until nightfall.

Three and a half hours passed. The show ended. Yet Lorenzo never came.

A notification of Elena's latest social media post popped up. There was a blurry video of a cheering

crowd.

"I suddenly felt like going to the music festival, so I dragged my husband along! The one who loves you will never ruin the fun!"

Although the video was blurry, I still saw Lorenzo's face.

Hah! He lied to me again.

I had stubbornly waited outside in the cold, my feet blistered from heels, while he celebrated with another woman. Yesterday, I had wanted to give him one last chance. How foolish of me to do so.

I quickly turned around, intending to leave. But my legs were stiff from standing too long, and the heels I wore today didn't help.

"Ah!" I lost my balance and fell. My knees and elbows scraped against the ground, and it hurt like hell.

Tears streamed down my face, though I couldn't tell if it was from the pain or the humiliation.

And then Lorenzo's call came through. "Cinzia, why did it take you so long to pick up? I came to your place, and the housekeeper said you weren't back yet. Where are you?"

"At the theater entrance."

He was momentarily lost for words. "I'm so sorry, tesoro. Some brazen men tampered with my shipment today, and I had to deal with it. You know how I—"

"Don't bother explaining."

With that, I hung up. I hobbled home, too exhausted even to change, and collapsed onto the bed, sinking into a deep sleep.

When I woke, I was in pajamas, and my wounds had been hastily bandaged.

Lorenzo held a cup of warm water and entered the room. He bent down and pressed his lips to my forehead. "Your fever's down, but you still need medicine. The doctor said your wounds are slightly infected."

I stared at him, stunned. How could he stand me up but act as if nothing had happened and care for me with such ease and tenderness?