Chapter 3

"Skip the engagement shoot tomorrow."

My eyes fell on the calendar. Tomorrow's square was marked with clear block letters: Engagement Photos.

I had no idea why he'd suddenly want to cancel. Then again, I'd been planning to bail on it anyway. If he hadn't said it, I would've.

I nodded. My voice was flat.

"Fine. I'll call the photographer and cancel."

Dante blinked. He hadn't expected me to agree that fast.

Something like unease flickered across his face. He tried to smooth it over.

"Don't cancel."

He kept going. "Isobel said she'll probably never get to have a wedding of her own. She wants to wear a gown, just once. So she doesn't die with that regret."

"Let her take the photos with me tomorrow. We can redo ours later."

He said it casually, like he was asking what we wanted for dinner. Like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. Exactly the same tone he'd used a month ago when he told me he was going to have a child with her—dressed up as a conversation, when in reality the decision had already been made and he was just informing me.

But he didn't know. There wasn't going to be a later for us.

"Fine," I said softly, and walked toward the bedroom.

The wedding was off. He could take photos with whoever he wanted. It had nothing to do with me.

Dante watched my back as I went. Something uneasy stirred in his chest.

I was too calm. Not even a question. He'd prepared a whole string of excuses and justifications, and I'd sent them back completely unused. He'd expected anger. A demand for explanation. Tears. Something.

I gave him nothing.