Done Being Your Lover

That night, back at home, I quietly started packing my things. The walk-in closet had once been filled with the jewelry and bags Enzo had given me, each piece carrying a memory of our sweet moments.

Now, I pulled them out one by one and tossed them into trash bags. Even the photos, in which we smiled so happily without a care in the world, had become unnecessary clutter. I gathered them all, ready to throw them away.

I watched as the room slowly returned to the state of emptiness it was before I arrived. The warmth of those memories surged like waves and then receded, leaving only desolation.

Once, we had cuddled on that very couch, watching movies. He would hold me gently in his arms, and we would laugh like carefree kids.

On the balcony, the flowers we had planted together still bloomed. Little did they know, their owners were about to part ways. On the desk sat the pair of clay figurines we had sculpted together, symbols of our love.

Now, everything screamed irony in my face. I took a deep breath, forcing myself not to cry.

At that moment, I heard the lock turn. Enzo had returned with Isabella. He looked around the room, now stripped of much of its contents, and frowned slightly. "Bee, why are so many things missing?"

Despite my nervousness, I tried to sound casual. "I was just decluttering."

His probing gaze lingered on me for a moment. "You're—"

"Enzo," Isabella interrupted. "A woman is allowed to declutter whenever she wants, you know?"

"Anyway, Isabella will be staying with us for a while," Enzo informed me. "Her apartment has some leaks that need fixing."

I nodded calmly, saying no more. I knew my place—an amante with no right to question.

Isabella stayed behind Enzo, a victorious smile dancing on her lips. On the contrary, he looked at me with a flicker of something complex in his eyes. "Bee, you won't mind, will you?"

I shook my head, forcing a faint smile. "Of course not."

He nodded, relief flashing in his eyes. "You've put up with a lot lately. Once things settle down, I'll take you to the auction. I'll get you whatever you like."

With that, he turned and headed upstairs with Isabella.

I stayed frozen, my heart twisting as I watched their backs disappear. Enzo would never understand that it wasn't the jewelry at the auction that I cared about.

The next day, Isabella began renovating the house in the manner of a true mistress. "Enzo, I want the south-facing master bedroom. I like it when there's sunlight—it's good for my health."

Enzo naturally agreed. That had been our room, every detail carefully chosen by me.

I watched them go upstairs, silently clenching my fingers, saying nothing. Out of the blue, she turned her gaze to the flowers I had tended on the balcony. "I don't quite like these… Can we take them away?"

Enzo glanced at me, but I lowered my head, dodging his eye contact. He ultimately agreed as well. "Sure. Whatever you say."

I watched the flowers being carried away, pot by pot. It felt like a knife was slicing across my chest every minute, but I had to pretend I was okay. Strangely, beneath it all was a strange sense of relief, a finality.

I told myself quietly, "It's fine. I'm leaving soon anyway."

Then, Isabella suggested changing the living room curtains. "That color is tacky. Let's replace it."

Enzo agreed to everything, never once stopping her.

Slowly, the place I used to call home was transformed into a place I no longer recognized. This space once held all my love and hopes, but now it stood as a painful reminder of a shattered fantasy.

He looked at me in silence, a flicker of guilt in his eyes, and said softly, "Don't be upset, Bee. I'll make it up to you soon. She hasn't been feeling well lately and has been down ever since her family issues. Be patient with her, okay?"

A weak, bitter smile lifted my lips. "It's fine. I get it."