Bulletproof Heart Finally Breaks

I couldn't watch anymore.

While everyone was celebrating Lorenzo's win, I slipped out of the club.

No one noticed I was gone. Not even Lorenzo.

His eyes only saw Juliana.

Back at the apartment, I poured a glass of red wine, trying to calm the storm inside me.

But then my phone lit up. A new post from Juliana.

It was a picture of her and Lorenzo on a beach, the night wind whipping through their hair.

Lorenzo was holding her from behind, both of them watching a massive firework display light up the sky.

The caption: Finally, someone to watch the fireworks with. A perfect night.

My hand trembled.

Lorenzo had never set off fireworks for me.

In ten years, I'd asked so many times. He always said it was childish, a waste of time.

But for Juliana, he'd light up the whole damn sky.

I threw my phone aside, forcing the pain down.

It was starting to feel numb. Like my heart had been stabbed so many times it had forgotten how to bleed.

I managed to change into my nightgown and crawl into bed.

Just as I was drifting off, I heard a key in the lock.

Lorenzo was back.

I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

He walked into the bedroom, smelling of booze and salty sea air.

"Bella," he whispered.

I didn't move.

He stripped down, climbed into bed, and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

"I know you're awake," his voice was slurred. "Why'd you leave tonight without saying anything?"

I stayed silent.

His hands started to roam, fueled by alcohol and urgency.

His kiss tasted of bitter whiskey and another woman's perfume.

I didn't fight him.

I used to melt at his touch. But tonight, my head was clear.

This was it. A goodbye.

A secret funeral for ten years of my stupid love. At least he was good in bed.

My eyes were wide open. I watched the control drain from his face, the raw hunger in his eyes. I even moved with him, giving him every trick I'd learned over the last decade.

He was rougher than ever, like he wanted to crush me right into him.

Then, at the very end, he breathed her name against my ear.

"Jules..."

I went cold.

I stopped moving. Went completely still.

Thank you, Lorenzo.

Thank you for finally killing the last piece of me that still loved you. And for doing it so brutally.

I shoved him off me.

He stopped, dazed, and stared at me. "Bella..." He tried to explain.

"Get out," I said. My voice was ice. No emotion at all.

"Bella, I was drunk..."

"I said, get out." It wasn't a request. It was an order.

He stared into my eyes and found nothing there. No anger. No sadness. Just a dead, empty space.

He finally stumbled out of the room.

I curled up under the covers. Not a single tear fell. And then I slept.

After ten years, the dream was finally over.

The next morning, a text from Lorenzo lit up my phone. "I've arranged the engagement party for five days from now. It will be grand. Be there."

I stared at the message and wanted to laugh.

He was playing house with Juliana and planning an engagement party with me.

Who the hell did he think I was?

As I was thinking, my phone pinged again. A new post from Juliana's private account.

It was a photo of her and Lorenzo in a searing, passionate kiss.

The marks on her neck were dark and angry.

The caption read: He was so worried when I told him I wasn't feeling well. Sent me straight home to rest. My hero.

I stared at the timestamp. 11 PM last night.

Lorenzo didn't get to my place until 2 AM.

So after being with her, he came to me and used me like a release valve.

And in the heat of the moment, he called out her name.

I shut off my phone and walked to the bathroom.

Staring at my reflection, I thought of the Isabella from ten years ago.

Back then, I was the most dazzling mafia princess in Chicago.

Men fell at my feet. Women seethed with jealousy.

I could have anything. The best jewels, the most beautiful clothes, the fastest cars.

But I chose Lorenzo.

For him, I gave up everyone else.

For him, I became a pathetic stand-in.

For him, I lost myself.

But it was almost over. Just four more days of this hell, and I would be that princess, Isabella, once more.