Last Regret: Goodbye to my cheating ex

Chiara’s POV I was never the girl people looked at twice. Not in school. Not growing up. I was the nerdy, awkward, slightly overweight girl who preferred books to gossip and kept her distance from people. The girls only wanted to befriend me because my parents were rich and my older brother, Antonio Romano, was a walking heartthrob. The boys were worse. Pretending to like me, pretending to care—just to cozy up to the Romano name in hopes of landing a job at our family business after school. A summer internship with Romano Enterprises was gold for their college applications. I never said yes to anyone quickly. Something always gave them away—a slip of the tongue, a hallway conversation, a make-out session I’d catch by accident. Every time it happened, it stung, even though I swore I was used to it. Deep down, I still hoped someone would actually see me. By university, I’d learned to keep my circle small. I focused on myself, hit the gym regularly, and discovered I had a real love for working out. The weight came off gradually, and I was left with curves in all the right places. I started to feel good—beautiful, even—though old insecurities still crept in now and then. That’s when Peter came into the picture. It was during my final year. He was charming, persistent, and seemed to actually see me. I didn’t fall for him right away. I had trust issues carved into my bones. But he wore me down with late-night texts, good-morning calls, and compliments that made my heart flutter. Once I said yes to a date, it was a whirlwind. Peter was attentive, thoughtful—he made me feel wanted. My friends weren’t exactly fans of his, but they smiled for my sake. He got a solid job after graduation, and I threw myself into the company my parents had started for me—Romano Atelier, a fashion-forward brand that had become my passion project. I majored in business, minored in fashion, and was determined to learn every aspect of the company from the ground up. I worked in the design department—my favorite—creating handbags, clothing, jewelry. I didn’t want to be handed a title because of my last name. I wanted to earn it. Antonio didn’t get it. He jumped into a management role right out of college. But my father respected me for wanting to build myself. Two months ago, Peter proposed. It was out of the blue. We’d been together for almost two years, but he hadn’t shown signs of taking that next step. My dad was skeptical—he hadn’t met Peter yet—but gave his blessing to avoid hurting me. We were supposed to spend Christmas together, just the two of us, since Peter was busy impressing his boss for a promotion and couldn’t make the family trip to the ski resort. I agreed. I wanted us to have a quiet, intimate holiday anyway. I took a few days off work to grab last-minute gifts. It was Christmas Eve, and I figured I’d surprise Peter at home before our little holiday began. When I got home, the front door was unlocked. Odd. I stepped inside quietly, slipping off my shoes. What I heard next stopped me cold. Peter’s voice. A woman’s moaning. My stomach twisted. I inched closer, heart racing. "Why did you have to get engaged to her?" the woman whined. I recognized her instantly—Justina. His coworker. "I told you, baby," Peter replied smoothly. "I was going to leave her—until I found out her brother was Antonio Romano. You know how far that name can take me? Marrying her is the golden ticket." My heart dropped. "You’ll always be the one I love, Justina. And with her money… just imagine the life I can give you." Justina laughed softly. "Ugh. Do you have to actually sleep with that fat b***h?" "Only when I have to keep her happy. Her ass is nice, I’ll give her that," Peter said with a disgusting chuckle. "You’re sick," she giggled. "If I think about you with that disgusting body, I’ll puke." That was it. That was my limit. I walked in, slamming the door so hard it echoed. They scrambled like a couple of roaches caught in the light. Peter stood there with nothing but a pillow over his junk. "Chiara! Baby—it’s not what it looks like." I laughed bitterly. "You’ve been screwing Justina for two years and using me for a job? What exactly am I misunderstanding?" "She nailed it, babe," Justina said with a smug smile. "Shut up, Justina!" Peter snapped. "No point lying now," she shrugged. "Oh, and he’s sterile, by the way. Lied about wanting kids because he knows how much you want them." My breath caught. "You what?" I stared at Peter. "That’s not true!" he yelled, but his face said otherwise. I steadied myself. "You know what? You can keep this apartment. Burn whatever I left behind. I’m done." Peter tried to move toward me, but I held my hand up. "Don’t. Just don’t." I turned to go, but looked over my shoulder one last time. "By the way, Peter? You couldn’t get enough of this 'fat ass' every night, so I’m really glad we used protection." I stormed out, ignoring his voice as he called after me. Tossing the ring into the snow as I drove away, I didn’t look back. I stopped at a boutique, grabbed new clothes and last-minute gifts, and booked the next flight out. First class, thankfully, had one seat left. When I landed, I rented a car and drove straight to my family’s resort in the mountains. I didn’t want to see anyone yet, didn’t want to talk about what happened. Instead, I dropped my things in a guest room, slipped on a dress, and headed to the quiet bar—one I knew none of my family ever used. I needed a drink. Or five. There was a man at the bar—handsome, brooding. If I hadn’t been emotionally wrecked, I might’ve taken the seat beside him. But I sat at the far end and kept to myself. After an hour and probably too many shots, he approached me with a drink. Misery loves company, right? I let him stay. He was funny. Charming. And after another hour, I was laughing until my ribs hurt. I didn’t even remember how we got to my room, but I remember what happened after. When I tried to cover myself, he growled low in his throat. Called me sexy. Beautiful. Touched me like I was something to worship. Peter had never made me feel like that. This man had me writhing under his hands, gasping from his mouth, and when he finally slid into me, I swear I saw stars. He was huge, relentless, and every second of it was blissfully numbing. We fell asleep tangled together, breathless. When I woke, he was gone. But I wasn’t upset. After all the heartbreak, maybe that one night of wild, anonymous pleasure was the Christmas gift I never knew I needed. I got dressed, pulled my hair into a bun, and left to surprise my family—ready to rewrite this miserable holiday into something better.