You Were My Goodbye

I don't remember when he left.

That night, his friend Matteo—once mine, too—burst through the door.

"Valentina. What did you promise me?"

I was too stunned to answer.

"Do you know how much Nico is losing by canceling the wedding?"

"You're an adult. Stop acting like you did back then—reckless, always leaving Nico to clean up after you. Think about him for once."

"What happened?"

"What happened?" Matteo laughed bitterly. "Nico is calling off the wedding because of you. That's what happened."

My ears rang. I sat there, blank.

If he canceled the wedding now, what would that make me? A homewrecker?

Matteo dragged me out of bed. "Come on. You were good at this before. Bored, found someone new—pick any excuse. Say it."

"Matteo—"

"Valentina!" He was shaking with rage. "If you hadn't come back, none of this would be happening."

His voice echoed in the wind. I couldn't hear anything else.

The hatred in his eyes was absolute.

As if someone like me deserved to die.

"Matteo, he's the one who won't let me go."

His face hardened. "After this is done, I'll send you away."

Late that night, the family's hearing room was bright with lights.

Matteo dragged me inside.

But the internal hearing had already begun.

Nico sat at the head of the long table, composed.

"We heard the reason for canceling the wedding was a third party," a committee member challenged.

Nico was smooth. "Miss Mira and I had differences. We parted amicably."

Matteo's face was dark. He held my wrist like a vice.

"But sources say you've rekindled things with your first love."

Nico remained calm. "Rumors. If there's nothing else, this meeting is adjourned—"

He stood.

Then someone shouted, "She's here!"

"That's her!"

All eyes turned to me.

I stood exposed, disheveled, horrified.

Family members swarmed around. Within seconds, I was trapped.

Questions flew: "What is your relationship with Nico?" "Did you really break up someone's engagement?"

The noise was overwhelming.

Nico's smile vanished. He pushed through the crowd toward me.

"No." "I didn't."

I tried to defend myself, but my voice was swallowed.

"Fresh evidence!" A captain held up his phone. My voice came out: "Nico, I love you."

Nico's face went pale.

"Isn't that a mistress?" "Shameless."

The whispers hit like slaps.

All color drained from my face. "I'm sorry. No. I didn't. I don't know—"

"Matteo! Get her out!"

Nico shoved through the crowd, panicked.

Everything turned white.

The captain kept reading: "Oh, and I hear your father was shot, your mother killed herself, and you have a serious genetic mental illness—five years in a West Coast mental hospital… Oh my God."

The room erupted.

"Why is a mentally ill person out here causing trouble?" "She's sick." "Why not just die?"

Nico froze. He raised his eyes to mine.

Shock. Disbelief.

I sat helpless in the noise, the blood in my body cooling until I was completely cold.

"Valentina…" He said my name. His voice shook.

I knew what came next. I just waited for the blade to fall and destroy whatever was left of my life.

"She was also sexually assaulted."

Those were the captain's last words.

When Nico heard them, his face went white as paper.