Chapter 2

Charlotte POV:

Daniella, radiating an innocent kind of ambition, stepped forward, her hand extended towards me.

"Charlotte! I've heard so much about you," she chirped, her smile genuine, almost too bright. "Alberto says you're an amazing architect. I'm really looking forward to working with you."

She clung to Alberto's arm, her fingers tracing the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.

A gesture of ownership.

"He's been so busy lately, always burning the midnight oil," she confided to my parents, her gaze adoring as she looked up at Alberto. "But he always says it's for 'our future.' I just wish he'd take more breaks."

My eyes flicked to her left hand.

A diamond, blinding in its brilliance, sat nestled on her ring finger.

It wasn't just a ring.

It was the ring.

The one from the jewelry store window we'd passed countless times, the one he' d joked about, saying, "One day, when we're ready for the world to know, that'll be yours."

My stomach clenched, a cold, hard knot forming deep inside.

Every single word, every secret moment, every stolen glance we ever shared, felt like a lie now.

Alberto, the man who' d told me he was "too busy" for a weekend getaway last month, had been planning a proposal.

For her.

Not for me.

His ears, I noticed, were a faint shade of red.

A tell-tale sign of his discomfort, a tiny crack in his perfect veneer.

He squeezed Daniella's hand.

"Darling, don't worry. I'll make more time now. We have a lifetime of weekends ahead of us," he murmured, his voice laced with a tenderness I' d once thought was reserved for me.

His words cut deeper than any knife.

He had promised me a lifetime.

A year ago, he' d told me that being "busy" was a necessary evil, a sacrifice for our shared future, our secret future.

It was all for her future now.

My mom, ever the matchmaker, turned to me again, her eyes sparkling.

"Charlotte, dear, it's high time you found someone special too! Remember that lovely young man, Cameron Byers, your father's former student? He's so dashing and successful now."

A pit formed in my stomach.

My parents, unknowingly, were twisting the knife.

"He always asks about you," she continued, completely oblivious. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if you two...?"

Alberto cleared his throat, a sharp, almost imperceptible sound.

"Mrs. Bright, Charlotte and I are just colleagues. Like I said, she's like a sister to me," he interjected, his voice firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

He shot me a look, a warning etched in his eyes.

Don't you dare.

The humiliation, hot and stinging, washed over me.

Publicly dismissed. Publicly demoted.

A sister. A colleague. Never a lover. Never a partner.

It was like he was systematically scrubbing me from his past, present, and future.

My heart felt like a hollow drum, beating a slow, painful rhythm of despair.

I wanted to scream, to lash out, to expose his carefully constructed deceit.

But I couldn't.

Not yet.

I took a deep breath, forcing a semblance of composure onto my face.

"You're right, Alberto," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "Just colleagues. But I'm sure I'll find someone. And when I do, I promise, you'll be the first to know. And it won't be a secret."

My mom clapped her hands, delighted.

"That's my girl! That's the spirit!" she cheered, completely missing the barbed undertone.

I met Alberto's gaze one last time.

His eyes held a flicker of surprise, a hint of something unreadable, before he quickly masked it.

The party continued around us, a cacophony of laughter and cheer, but all I could hear was the deafening silence of my shattered heart.