Part 3He Lost Me at Mistress

The hallway was packed. Everyone watched, tossing out cruel comments.

I lowered my head and tried to leave.

Then a black school jacket, smelling like clean laundry, landed over my shoulders.

I looked up.

Gentle eyes met mine.

He was tall enough to block me from everyone else.

"Had enough? If not, dump the water on me."

Dante didn't raise his voice, but nobody questioned him.

Wanda's expression changed. She left with the others, annoyed.

The crowd slowly broke apart.

I slipped off the jacket and held it out to him.

"Thank you."

By then, I was already numb.

I'd convinced myself someone like me didn't deserve kindness.

He didn't take the jacket.

"Keep it. You don't want to get sick."

Before I could argue, he turned and walked back into class.

After that, he started showing up more.

When I ate alone in the corner of the cafeteria, he sat across from me with his tray.

When my classmates shut me out on purpose, he always appeared right when I needed help.

Even when I walked home alone after school, he'd quietly follow me for part of the way.

I was used to everyone leaving.

Used to swallowing every hurt alone.

I'd never had anyone stay.

Years of loneliness started to crack under his quiet persistence.

One afternoon after school, he followed me again.

For the first time, I stopped and turned around, my eyes burning with tears.

He hurried over.

Looking at my tear-filled eyes, he asked softly, "Why do you always shut everyone out?"

I didn't answer.

His kindness and persistence finally broke through my defenses.

The cab moved through traffic, cold wind stinging my cheeks through the open window.

The city blurred past.

I couldn't understand it.

How had the Dante who brought warmth into my life become this person?

How could he push me into something even darker?

Before I found an answer, the cab stopped outside my house.

The second I opened the door, a heavy porcelain vase flew straight at me.

I didn't have time to move.

The vase slammed into my forehead.

It shattered across the floor. Porcelain shards flew everywhere, slicing my neck and arms.

Blood welled up, mixing with the cold sweat on my skin. It burned.

My father lowered his arm, his face twisted with rage.

"Alessa, you've got some nerve coming back here."

Before I could answer, he threw a thick stack of photos at me.

They scattered across the floor like snow.

Every photo showed me with Dante.

The worst one was from outside the hospital, me clutching the pregnancy test.

Gianetta, Wanda's mom, stood there with a mocking smile.

"Like mother, like daughter. You spent your whole life ashamed of who you are, and now you want to drag your kid into the same disgrace?"

Wanda rushed over and shoved me to the floor.

She pointed at my face.

"Alessa, you're jealous because Dante's marrying me. That's why you got pregnant on purpose—to trap him. You're just as shameless as your mother."

"I didn't."