Betrayed By My Fiancée

Chapter 5: Hold me Anyway

Dante didn’t stay downstairs long.

The living room felt wrong in a way he couldn’t explain properly. Too still. Too tense. Like every second in there was stretching out what he already knew was coming. So he left without saying anything else, taking the stairs two at a time even though his body felt heavier than usual.

He knew where Jade would be. Or he thought he did. That small uncertainty made his chest tighten more than anything else.

The master suite door opened too fast—no knock, no pause. Instinct. The room was quiet, untouched at first glance. Clean. Familiar. But something about it immediately felt off.

Then he saw the bed.

Two suitcases.

He stopped moving completely.

For a second, his brain didn’t catch up. He just stood there staring at them as if he stared long enough. They’d stop meaning what they obviously meant. But they didn’t. They just sat there, loud in the silence.

His throat went dry.

“She saw everything,” he muttered, barely even hearing his own voice.

The weight of it hit properly after that. Not dramatic. Just heavy. It dropped straight into his chest and stayed there. Jade had been here. Alone. Seeing things he never wanted her to see like that.

He looked around the room again, faster now. Searching.

Nothing.

No movement. No sign of her.

The silence made it worse. It didn’t feel empty. It felt like it was holding something back from him.

Then it clicked.

Guest room.

He moved immediately.

His steps were quicker now, less controlled. His hand hovered over the door handle for half a second before he pushed it open.

The room was dim. Curtains half-drawn. A quiet kind of darkness that made everything feel softer than it should’ve been.

And there she was.

Jade was in bed, facing away from him. Still. Curled slightly under the blanket like she was trying to disappear into it. A tissue box sat beside her, messier than it should’ve been, and the sight of it hit him harder than he expected.

His chest tightened.

“How long…” he whispered without meaning to.

He stepped inside carefully and closed the door behind him. Not loud. Not sudden. Like the room might break if he moved wrong.

For a moment, he just stood there.

Watching her breathe.

That was the only thing that grounded him. The rise and fall of her shoulders. Slow, but not calm. Her body looked tired in a way sleep wouldn’t fix properly. Like she’d been holding herself together for too long and finally ran out of strength.

He kicked off his shoes quietly and set them aside.

Then he moved to the bed.

Careful. Hesitant.

He lifted the blanket just enough to slide in beside her. The space between them felt colder than it shshould haveLike the bed had already started separating them before either of them even spoke.

So he closed it.

He moved closer and wrapped his arm around her gently, pulling her in. Not forceful. Just… there. Present.

Jade didn’t pull away.

But she didn’t relax either.

That hurt more than if she had.

The silence between them felt thick, like it had weight. Dante swallowed, his throat tight, and finally spoke.

“I lied,” he said quietly.

Jade didn’t respond. Not a sound. Not a movement.

“I lied about knowing Leondra,” he continued. “I do know her. I’ve known her for years.”

Still nothing. But he could feel it—she was listening. Even if she didn’t want to show it.

“Our families arranged everything a long time ago,” he said. His voice dropped lower without him meaning to. “They decided we were supposed to be together before we even had a say in it. It was never something I wanted.”

Her body stayed still, but he felt the tension in her change. Not gone. Just sharper now.

“I made it clear years ago,” he added quickly. “I told them I wasn’t doing it. I walked away from that before I met you.”

He tightened his hold slightly, like he was afraid she might pull away even though she hadn’t moved.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it in our life,” he said. “I didn’t want her anywhere near what we have. I thought if I kept it separate, it would stay separate.”

A pause.

His voice softened.

“I love you,” he said. “I’m still going to marry you. I don’t care what they say. They can bring whoever they want into it—it doesn’t change anything.”

Jade shifted.

Small. Barely noticeable. But it was enough.

Slowly, she turned.

Dante’s breath caught when he saw her face.

Her eyes were red. Puffy. Tired in a way that didn’t fade with sleep. Like she’d been crying long before he walked in and only just stopped.

His expression changed instantly.

All the urgency in him softened.

He pulled her in closer without thinking, one hand settling against her back carefully, like she might break if he held her wrong.

“We don’t have to fix everything right now,” he said quietly. “We can just… stay like this.”

Jade didn’t answer. Didn’t agree. Didn’t disagree.

But she didn’t move away either.

Her head slowly rested against his chest, and he felt her body loosen just a fraction. Not healed. Not okay. Just tired enough to stop resisting the moment.

Dante stayed still.

He didn’t push. Didn’t ask more. Didn’t try to force anything else out of her.

He just held her.

The room stayed quiet for a long time after that. Not peaceful. Just heavy in a different way now.

Jade’s breathing slowly changed. Slower. Deeper. Less sharp.

And Dante felt it before he saw it—that shift where exhaustion finally wins.

He closed his eyes, too.

Not because things were fine.

Because he didn’t know what else to do with everything that wasn’t.