Married To My Ex-husband's Rival

CHAPTER 2 – The Mistress and The Wife

I couldn't breathe for a few seconds. I heard wedding dress echoing in my head, and I felt heavy, like I was somewhere else. Leonardo didn't turn to me. He was looking at the ground like a stranger caught doing something he should be ashamed of.

"Leo," I whispered. My throat burned. "What is this?"

He didn't say anything.

Vivienne looked back and forth between us, smiling a little. "He didn't tell me you work here," she said. "How embarrassing."

"I don't work here," I told her. "I own this place."

She laughed a soft, pretentious polite laugh. "Oh, so you're the manager. Terrific." Then she turned to him. "Babe, do you want to do mermaid gowns or ball gowns first?"

"Vivienne," he growled.

"What?" she said, playing innocent. "We do have an appointment, don't we?"

My voice was barely audible, shaking. "Leonardo, speak."

He finally looked up. His eyes darted back and forth between her and me. "Can we talk outside?"

"No," I said. "You can talk right here."

There were two other customers in the store pretending to shop but obviously listening. Gina was behind the counter, pale. The whole store was too quiet except for the gentle music in the speakers.

Vivienne folded her arms. "Are you really doing this?" she asked him. "Here?"

"What?" I echoed, turning to her. "You walk in here with my husband and ask for a wedding dress. Do you know how insane that is?"

Her head jerked to the side. "Your husband?" She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Leo, what is she talking about?"

Leonardo's expression locked. His mouth opened, then closed. "Isabella, don't make a scene."

"Make a scene?" My chest tightened. "You brought your mistress into my store. What did you expect me to do—congratulate you?"

He took a step nearer, voice low. "I said, not here."

Vivienne placed her hand on his arm again, as if laying a claim to him. "It's all right, love. If she needs to get it off her chest, let her."

"Vivienne, stop," he snarled.

I glared at him, waiting for at least a flicker of guilt, but all I saw was panic. "Leonardo," I started slowly, "you're my husband."

He looked me straight in the face and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

The room spun for a moment. Gina gasped softly at the counter. Even one of the customers said something under her breath.

"You're not serious," I said.

He squared his shoulders. "You're mistaken."

Vivienne smiled, as though she'd been waiting for that. "See? I told you there was some misunderstanding. Now, if you'll excuse us, we came here to shop."

I just stood there, in shock. My palms were cold, and my voice hardly above a whisper. "You really just said that."

Leonardo looked away, his jaw clenched. "We should go."

"Wait," I said, blocking the doorway. "At least tell me. What did I do that was so wrong?"

He wouldn't look at me. "I don't have time for this."

"Don't have time?" I repeated, as if I might actually laugh. "You had time to cheat, though. You had time to humiliate me."

Vivienne rolled her eyes. "Enough drama. We'll find another store, Leo."

He took her hand and moved toward the door. I moved aside slowly. "Go," I whispered. "Both of you."

Vivienne smiled as she passed me. "Don't worry, darling. He's happier now."

I said nothing. I stood until the door closed behind them. The little bell above the door jingled, the sound sharp in the silence that descended afterward.

Gina moved forward. "Bella… I'm so sorry."

I nodded, still looking at the glass door. My whole body was shaking. "Can you keep an eye on things for a bit? I need to go."

"Okay," she said softly.

I went into the back office, grabbed my bag, and left by the side door so that I wouldn't have to go by the front again. The outside air was too hot and thick. My hands couldn't stop shaking.

By the time I got home, my head hurt. I put my keys on the table and sat on the couch, staring at nothing. After a while, I stood and got myself a glass of water, but I didn't drink it.

Half an hour later, I heard the front door open. Mrs. Russo, Leonard's mother voice came from the hallway. "Isabella? Are you home?"

I wiped my face quickly and stood up. "Yes, Mother."

She entered, smiling as though she had not seen me for years. "You're early. Did something happen?"

I looked at her for a moment. "Where's Leonardo?"

"Still out," she said, sitting down. "He said dinner with a friend."

I swallowed. "Vivienne?

Her face contorted, then smoothed out into something that looked like pity. "Oh, you already know."

"So it's true," I said. "He's dating her."

She sighed and wrapped her shawl around her. "You can't blame him entirely. Vivienne's mother and I go way back. They've always had a thing for each other."

"Thing?" I said. "He's married."

"Sometimes men do foolish things," she said. "You're still young. You'll see later."

I looked at her. "You're defending him?"

"I'm not making excuses for anyone," she said levelly. "I'm being realistic. Vivienne is what makes him happy. You… maybe this marriage was never meant to be."

Her statement was a slap. "You're unbelievable."

She stood up, her skirt smoothing down. "Don't address me in that tone, Isabella. You should be grateful you married into this family. But if you can't keep my son happy, then maybe it's time you rethink your place here."

"My place?" I repeated. "This is my home."

She smiled faintly. "Not for long, dear."

I wasn't even aware that I was crying until she walked past me toward the door. Her perfume lingered behind her after she'd left, sweet and bitter, and I stood there staring at the empty space where she'd stood.

I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, closed it, and sat down at the table. The silence now was thicker than before. I tapped my belly gently. Thinking about the baby made me feel sad.

I wanted to call Leonardo, to shout or beg or anything, but I knew that it would not change anything. I got my phone and texted him instead: We need to talk.

The message was left unread.

Hours passed. I walked around the living room picking up objects randomly—a photo frame, a mug, a magazine—and putting them down. Each area of the house reminded me of him. The sofa where he fell asleep watching football. The shelf where he kept his files. Even his coat still hung by the door.

When I eventually sat down, it dawned on me that I had no clue what to do next. I'd built my whole world around someone who simply walked into my workplace with another girl and rejected me in front of everybody.

I took a deep breath, wiped my face, and whispered to myself, "You're not going to cry again."

But of course, I did.

The doorbell rang out of the blue. My heart skipped a beat, hoping it was him, but when I opened the door, it was Gina with a small bag in her hand.

"I thought you would need this," she said. "You left your phone charger and the shop keys."

I managed a weak smile. "Thanks."

She stood there. "Do you want me to stay over for a bit?"

"No, I am fine. Really."

"Are you sure? You look pale."

"I just need to sleep," I said to her.

She nodded slowly. "Okay. But call me if you need anything, okay?"

"yeah," I whispered. "I will.

I closed the door behind her and leaned against it. The apartment was for some reason colder. I walked into the bedroom and saw one of Leonardo's shirts on the bed. I picked it up, folded it, and placed it on his side of the wardrobe. My hands would not cease shaking.

I could barely fall asleep, I was just staring at the ceiling. My hands were tingling, my chest was constricted, and my body was weakened. I did not know if it was because of the shock or the pregnancy, but everything inside me hurt.

I heard the faint sound of traffic outside the open window, and for a second, I wondered if he was out there with her, laughing.

Vivienne's voice came back to me like an echo, soft and sinister: "Don't worry, dear. Once I move in, you'll have plenty of time to pack.".