Isabella POV:
Giovanni’s eyes were frantic, pleading with me to maintain the charade. I met his gaze and gave a slow, deliberate nod. I would play his game, for now.
He visibly relaxed, a wave of relief washing over his face.
Sofia, oblivious, turned to me. "When are you and Dom getting married, Bella? I hope it's soon! We'll be sisters-in-law!"
"Very soon," I said, a small, genuine smile touching my lips for the first time in weeks. The thought of it was my only comfort.
Giovanni’s jaw tightened. Even though he believed my marriage to his brother was a lie, he hated hearing it spoken aloud.
"Sofia, let's go," he said brusquely, taking her arm. "You need to rest." He practically dragged her from the room.
As they left, I saw him take her hand, his thumb stroking the back of it gently.
The hospital room was finally quiet. I stared out the window, at the grey city sky, and for the first time, the ache in my chest felt a little less sharp.
I didn't see Giovanni again for the rest of my hospital stay. But I saw him every day on Sofia’s social media feed. Pictures of them at the park, at fancy restaurants, at the opera. He looked happier than I had ever seen him.
`He even remembers I’m allergic to peanuts!` one of her captions read. `It’s like no time has passed at all.`
Every post was a new twist of the knife. He commented on every single one with heart emojis and loving words, a public performance of a love I now knew was all too real for him.
She would tag me in every post, and send me messages. `Isn’t he the sweetest? You have to ‘like’ this one!`
I never replied. I just hit the like button, a silent, obedient ghost in their love story.
The day I was discharged, Giovanni was waiting for me by his car. He opened the passenger door for me with a familiar, easy smile.
"Where's Sofia?" I asked, surprised to find us alone.
"I told her I had some family business to attend to," he said smoothly, getting into the driver's seat. He reached into the back and pulled out a giant stuffed teddy bear. "I thought you might like some company."
He started driving, not towards the estate, but in the opposite direction. "I'm taking you on a date," he announced, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "We're going hiking to our spot. The one with the meteor shower."
He didn't ask. He just decided.
When we arrived at the base of the trail, he knelt down and gently replaced my hospital-issued slippers with a pair of sturdy hiking boots he had brought for me.
As he tied the laces, his dark hair fell across his forehead. I watched him, my heart a silent, hollow drum.
The hike was slow. He carried all our gear, his arm steadying me over the rough patches. He pointed out a rare bird, fetched me water before I even felt thirsty. He was performing the role of the perfect, attentive boyfriend. For a moment, watching his handsome profile against the setting sun, I almost felt a flicker of the old warmth.
Then I stumbled. My ankle twisted on a loose rock, and I cried out as I lost my balance.
In an instant, he reacted. He threw himself backwards, pulling me with him, his body cushioning my fall as we tumbled into a soft patch of grass.
