Married To My Ex-husband's Rival

I got out of the store a little ahead of time that night. When I snatched up my bag, Gina, my co-worker, raised her eyes from the counter. "Home already?" she inquired. "It's my anniversary," I told her, trying not to smile too broadly. Gina grinned. "Two years, huh?" "Mm-hmm. I want to surprise him. He doesn't even know." She giggled. "You are still the only woman I know who gets excited about anniversaries." "Maybe now that I have something positive to tell him," I said to him. I didn't say a word about the pregnancy. I just wanted him to know about it first. I took a bus home, getting off at the neighborhood supermarket on the other side of the street. I bought a bottle of his favorite red wine, candles and a little white icing cake that say Happy Anniversary. The elderly man cashier who knew me there two or three times smiled. "Celebration?" "Yeah. Something like that." I came in the door, dumped my bag on the couch and headed straight for the kitchen. The house was silent, save for the humming of the refrigerator. I took off my coat, tied my hair back, and began to cook. I made yoghurt pasta and grilled chicken as it was his favorite. As I was stirring, I caught myself talking to the baby in my belly. "Your dad's going to love it," I whispered. "He'll likely scoop me up from the floor when I tell him." I smiled at the image. I completed setting the table and got changed into a simple blue dress. I checked myself in the mirror twice, smoothed a loose strand of hair into place, then looked at the clock. Seven fifteen. He should be home already. I texted him, Are you on your way? No reply. I pushed it aside and lit the candles in spite of it. At seven-thirty, I heard him drive up in the car. I shut off the stove and hovered beside the door in a rush. When Leonardo came in, he looked drained but still managed to smile a little. "Smells good," he said, loosening his tie. "Happy anniversary," I said. He blinked, as if he'd lost something. "Oh. Oh, right. Happy anniversary." My smile creased a little. "You forgot, didn't you?" He massaged the nape of his neck. "It's been a crazy day at work, Bella. Sorry." "It's okay. Sit down, I made your favorite." We sat at the dinner table. He ate in silence, occasionally pulling his phone out of his pocket to check it. I tried to open the conversation. "Do you remember our honeymoon? You sunburned after bragging about how Italians never burn." He smiled weakly. "Yeah. That was dumb." It was a blast though," I said, studying his face. "It feels like yesterday." He nodded but still would not look up. His phone rang again, and this time he picked it up. "I have to answer this," he said. "It's work." "It's always work this days," I said. "I'll be fast." He kissed me on the cheek and walked out onto the balcony. I sat there watching the candles burning halfway down, flickering. I heard his voice muffled by the glass door, low and soft. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. I cleared the plates slowly, tied up the leftovers, and put out the candles. When he came back, his jacket was already on "I have to go out." "Now?" "Something that needs to be taken care of." "It's almost nine." "I'll be back real soon. Don't wait up." He leaned in to kiss me. The door closed behind him before I could say anything. I stood stiff for a very long time, looking at the remains of half-eaten cake. The minute silver tip on top was tilted one side, and for no reason whatsoever that little thing pierced my chest. I wanted to tell him about the baby tonight. I even rehearsed how to do it. But now the excitement was gone. I cleaned up and went to bed with the small ultrasound photo I had hidden in my drawer. The next day, I arrived at work earlier than usual. I couldn't sit still with my mind running wild. The store was quiet, the kind of quiet that engages your mind. Gina was already arranging fabrics when I got there. "You're early." "Couldn't sleep." She looked at me seriously. "You okay?" "Yeah. Just tired." Around noon, our manager emerged from the office. "Isabella, we have a VIP in fifteen minutes. Handle it personally." I straightened my posture. "Of course." Gina nudged me. "Maybe one of those influencers again." "Maybe," I said, trying to muster up a weak smile. I went into the fitting room to check on the mirrors, turned on the air-conditioning, and folded some gowns in a pile on the bar. The scent of perfume from the previous client still lingered in the air. I lingered by the door, adjusting my skirt. The receptionist called out from the front. "VIP's here!" "Bring them in," I instructed her. I smiled, the practiced friendly kind of smile I saved for all A-list clients, when I opened the door. But then I froze. Leonardo was standing there. For an instant, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. He was strolling hand in hand with a woman—tall, lean, beautiful, her hair shining in the sunlight. She had a designer bag slung over her arm and sunshades covering her head. He blinked when he saw that I was present. "Isabella?" My mouth dried up. "What are you doing here?" Before he could answer, the woman looked at me with a little smirk. "Oh, so this is your employee? You didn't inform me she's this beautiful." "Employee?" I repeated. Leonardo's face went blank. "Vivienne, this is—" "I'm his wife," I stated curtly. Vivienne laughed so hard that Gina gIanced over from behind the counter. "Wife? Leonardo, you didn't inform me you have a comedian on your staff." He took a quick step forward. "Isabella, not here—" Not here what?" I asked sternly. "You come into my business with another woman and inform people I'm your employee?" Vivienne placed her hand on his chest as though she owned the man. "Easy does it, sugar. You're making a fool of yourself." My eyes blazed, but I maintained my tone. "You need to leave." "We came in to buy a wedding dress," she said, glancing at the dresses behind me. "So you're going to help us, aren't you? I looked at her, then him. "A wedding dress?" Leonardo's jaw twitched. "Vivienne—" She cut him off and turned her head my direction with the same sneering smile. "Come on, love," she said, tugging on his arm. "Say what kind of dress we would like." The room stopped for a moment my hands trembled against my frame, but I didn't move. He wouldn't look at me, and that was all I needed to know.