Wedding on the Same Day, but He's Not My Groom

Too many thoughts swirled in my head, but I ended up asking the most trivial question first.

"What are you doing here?"

Lorenzo frowned and placed the cup of water on my bedside table. "I called you over 20 times, and you didn't answer. I went around looking for you for so long, only to realize you'd gone back home. Where are your parents? You got hurt and had a fever. Why isn't anyone taking care of you?"

I took a sip of water. My parents had stayed in Southern Darvent to finalize the wedding plans since the day I agreed to the arranged marriage.

Seeing my silence, Lorenzo softened his tone, assuming I was still upset about last night. "Eat your medicine first. You didn't fall sick because you waited outside for three hours, did you?"

I swallowed the bitter pill, wishing I could splash the water in his face.

"Who do you think I was waiting for to get myself into this state? Get out! I don't want to see you."

Lorenzo stayed silent. He wanted to pat my head but failed. "I was busy yesterday. It's just a show. We can watch it next time."

Next time? Last night was the lead's farewell performance. Lorenzo didn't care about musicals, so he had no idea what it meant to me. And just as he didn't know that last night was my final chance for him.

I closed my eyes and repeated, "Get out!"

Lorenzo suddenly gripped my chin, forcing me to lift my head and meet his eyes. "Cinzia, have I spoiled you too much? Ever since we made things official, you've been giving me attitude.

"Now that we're together, you don't even bother pretending? Didn't you always want me to keep you company? Why are you playing hard to get now?"

"Get off me!"

The phone on the bedside table lit up. It was a message from Mamma.

Lorenzo was nearer to my phone, so he picked it up from the table and unlocked it effortlessly with his birthday.

"Give it back!" I tried to snatch my phone from him, but he was faster. His expression shifted from surprise to that smug, satisfied look. He let out a low chuckle and said, "As expected."

Lorenzo turned the screen toward me. Mamma had sent me pictures of wedding dresses. "Amore, take a look and see which one you like! You can change as many times as you want on the wedding day."

My stomach sank.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked.

Lorenzo bent down and ruffled my hair. He was smiling but the warning gaze in his eyes was unmistakable. "Listen, principessa. I'll propose when I'm ready. You know who I am. Stop with the tantrums and games. Do you understand?"

For a moment, I didn't know how to argue back. "Hold on. You got it wrong. Those—"

Lorenzo raised a hand, silencing me without a word. A few quick instructions to rest, and then he was gone.

I hurled the pillow against the door. Then, I took several deep breaths before picking up my phone and finally focusing on picking a wedding dress. The photos my parents had been sending kept piling up. Their text messages also seemed warmer and more approving than the last.

"Dominic already started preparing as soon as he got the news. He's really taking it seriously!

"He says everything will be done according to your preference."

After selecting the last dress, my phone exploded with messages from friends.

"Cinzia, you and Lorenzo just got together. Have you guys already broken up?"

There was a screenshot of Lorenzo's latest post. It was a close-up of two hands intertwined, fingers locked tight. The background was a church's stained-glass windows. He wrote, "Even God can't help but bless us early."

Everyone offered their congratulations except an observant friend who commented, "No way those hands belong to Cinzia. They don't have gun calluses! Lorenzo, what are you doing?"

Moments later, the post disappeared. Lorenzo had probably forgotten to hide it from mutual friends.

Before I could respond, a message from Lorenzo appeared. "Are you asleep?"

He was always so direct, so this seemingly casual question was clearly a probe.

I didn't answer and turned off my phone.