The Rest of My Life, Without You

Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn.

I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution.

He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead."

The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat?

As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet."

Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead.

"I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you.

"I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed."

Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right.

So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker.

Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire.

When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

A familiar voice drifted into my consciousness as my eyes fluttered open.

"Scarlett, once you're elected Capo, I will honor my family's promise and marry you."

My vision cleared. Tony Gambino stood before me, dressed in a white shirt with the top buttons carelessly undone, exuding a casual sensuality. His gaze wasn't cold this time—just faintly mocking.

The sight of him made my breath catch, a familiar ache burning behind my eyes.

I had been reborn. Not to the beginning, but to this pivotal moment: the day I became a candidate for Capo.

In my past life, Tony's parents decreed that whichever of us—Elma Russo or I—became a capo first would became Tony's wife.

I won. I married the man I loved. And we spent a lifetime tearing each other apart. Because the woman he truly loved had always been Elma—his childhood sweetheart, not me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and lifted my head, my voice quiet but steady.

"Tony... the woman you actually want to marry is Elma, isn't it?"

He went still. His eyes narrowed, sharp and assessing. "How did you know that?"

He recovered quickly, a mask of cool indifference falling back into place. "It doesn't matter. With your skills, you'll win the election. You'll be Capo."

I held his gaze. "There has to be another way."

He let out a short, derisive laugh. "What's this, a new tactic to get my attention? Save it. Just focus on planning the wedding you've always wanted."

As he turned, his back straight and unyielding, a wave of bitterness washed over me.

This was the man I had loved with my whole heart for years.

He had risked his life for me, more than once. I'd deluded myself into believing he loved me too, that he was just too proud to say it. Even his closest friend, Richard Bruno, had told me, "Tony's harsh words don't mean anything. He's soft on the inside. If he didn't care for you, why would he keep saving your life?"

I had believed them. I had believed in him. I walked down the aisle filled with hope.

But when Elma died, I finally understood the truth. He had never loved me at all.

His final words—"In the next life, I never want to meet you again"—were a blade I would carry in my heart forever.

Now, with this second chance, I decided to honor that wish. He had saved me enough for one lifetime. I only hoped he would live longer this time. And perhaps... I could finally see what my life could be without him in it.

On the official candidate form for Capo, I signed my name in the box marked Voluntary Withdrawal.

This time, I would give him what he truly wanted. I would let Elma become his bride.

When I stepped outside, Tony was leaning against the doorframe.

"Let's go," he said. "To the clerk's office. Let's get the marriage license."

I didn't move. I offered him a soft, enigmatic smile.

"There's no rush. The final competition hasn't even begun. No one knows who will win in the end."

His gaze sharpened, studying me as if I were a stranger. "Scarlett, have you lost your mind?"

I met his scrutinizing look with unwavering calm. "Tony, you'll get what you want."

He gave a short, cold snort and walked away without another word.

On my way back, I overheard a young couple chatting excitedly on the street.

"They say if newlyweds kiss under the Eiffel Tower, they'll be together forever."

"When we get married, let's go!"

"Yeah—we'll be happy for the rest of our lives."

I watched them pass, a faint, wistful smile on my lips. I felt a pang of envy.

In my past life, I had clung to that same dream. I had begged Tony to take me to Paris.

But he had just looked at me with that quiet mockery. "Is there even love between us? What difference would Paris make? Our relationship is a business arrangement. What exactly are you expecting?"

So this time, I let go of all expectations.

But then Tony stopped mid-stride. He glanced at my face, perhaps catching that flicker of longing, and said, his tone awkward, almost grudging, "After the engagement ceremony, I can take you there. But a lavish wedding is out of the question. The family is too busy."