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The next day, I sent my luggage ahead to the medical center's dormitory. All I kept was a carry-on.

Late that night, Dante came back. Still furious.

"Isobel is still in the hospital. Even if it was an accident, could you at least be the bigger person? Do you really have to pick a fight with her?"

I laughed. Cold all the way to my bones.

I'd been too big about this.

Big enough to hand him over to her. Big enough to let her wear the engagement dress I had ordered.

Dante's eyes fell on the calendar, on the red circle.

His voice softened. "Forget it. We're getting married tomorrow. I don't want to fight. After the ceremony, you apologize, and we head out on the honeymoon."

"You picked the itinerary?"

I said nothing.

If he'd been paying even a little attention, he would've noticed there wasn't a single flower in this apartment. Nothing about this room looked like it was hosting a wedding tomorrow.

"We—"

I opened my mouth, and his phone rang. It was Isobel.

"Wait for me. I'm on my way."

He was already lacing his shoes. "Isobel isn't feeling well. I'm going to the hospital. Don't be late tomorrow. Be at the venue on time."

The door clicked shut.

And finally, I said it out loud.

"Let's break up, Dante. The wedding's canceled."

There was no one to hear it. Only the old wall clock, ticking on.