Worth Every Bullet

We were halfway there when Stefan's phone started ringing.

Sienna's thin, weak voice came through. "Stefan, my stomach hurts…"

She had not even finished the sentence before Stefan told the driver to pull over. He turned to me. "Sienna is sick. She needs me. I have to go. I'll be at the church tonight. On time. I promise."

I looked down and nodded.

He seemed surprised. "You used to hate it whenever I dropped everything to run to Sienna. What changed?"

I started to answer, but he continued, "I don't know what you're trying this time, but we are engaged. That means Sienna is no threat to you. Don't do anything stupid."

Then he told me to get out of the car.

I stood on the pavement and watched it disappear. A bottomless bitterness settled over me.

I had never wanted to hurt Sienna.

Stefan's impression of me came from a single moment years ago. I had turned a corner and found Sienna in the corridor with the Don of a rival family. They had been kissing as if no one else existed. I had gone straight to Stefan and told him what I had seen. I had even tried to persuade him not to be with her.

He did not believe me. He thought I was trying to smear her name.

After she died, he drowned in grief for years. If I could relive that moment, I would turn around and walk away, letting them have each other. Anything would have been better than what followed.

I flagged down a cab and went to the embassy alone to sort out a visa.

…

By the time I returned to the estate, dinner was already on the table.

I leaned in to check the dishes. Every one of them was something I liked.

Stefan's mother, Elena Rossi, spotted me from across the room. "Annie's back! Come eat, come eat."

His father, Marco Grimaldi, came downstairs, took one look at the empty space behind me, and grunted, "That useless boy. Who knows where he wandered off to. He's about to have a family and still has no sense."

Their warmth touched something tender. After my parents died in the gang war, I was completely alone. Stefan's parents stepped in and filled that absence without fanfare. For years, I followed their lead without question.

Not this time.

"Marco, I don't want to marry Stefan anymore," I said.

The table fell silent.

"I'm leaving for Rodona tomorrow. The visa is already done. I won't be here to look after you, so please take care of yourselves."

Elena stared at me. "What are you saying, child? We watched you grow up. This is your home. Where do you think you're going? Did Stefan do something to you? Tell me. I'll deal with him myself."

She reached for my hand. "Annie, trust us. We know our son. Stefan loves you. He would not have come back for you again and again if he didn't. And every birthday, without fail, he prepares something special for you. Just give it a little more time. Once you are married, things will settle."

They had said the same in my previous life. They had believed it completely.

The ending had not matched that faith.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. "Elena, it's all right. I respect Stefan, but he does not feel the same way about me. Forcing two people together when one of them does not want it only makes everyone miserable."

I paused, then added carefully, "I also went to see a tarot reader yesterday. She said that if we go through with this marriage, it will end badly for both of us. And afterward, Stefan could die before he turns 26… because of me."

Saying it aloud felt like a blade turning in my chest.

Elena went very still.

"That's nonsense," she said, though her voice wavered. "The cards don't know anything. That won't happen."

"Maybe not," I said. "But maybe they are pointing us toward something we already know. Letting each other go might be the kindest thing we can do. For both of us."

I let the silence sit for a moment.

"Stefan has always known his own mind. A decision like marriage should be his to make." I took out the visa and set it on the table. "Elena, I'm sorry. I know what you have both given me, and I know I am not repaying it as I should. But there is somewhere I need to go. I hope you can let me. I will find a way to give back everything you have given me. I promise."

Marco had remained silent throughout. He let out a long breath, then nodded.

Elena looked at him, then back at me. She left for a few minutes and returned with an envelope.

"We respect your choice," she said quietly. "But remember this. If you grow tired out there, or find yourself in trouble, this will always be your home."

I could not hold myself together after that. I pulled her into a hug and cried until no sound came out.

As long as I stayed out of Stefan's life, the tragedy I had already lived through would not happen again. He was a genuinely good person, and good people deserved long lives. This time, everyone would be all right.

Two of his three regrets were resolved. One remained. I hoped it would go as smoothly.

…

That evening, at the church, couples moved past me in pairs. They stood before the altar and made their wishes under the cross. I could not explain why it moved me, but it did.

"Annie."

I turned at the sound of Stefan's voice.

A slap landed before I saw it coming.

"Annie…" His voice shook. "I thought something had changed in you. I was wrong. You just found a new angle. Why did you go to my parents and tell them Sienna was involved with someone else? Because of you, she just slit her wrists."