Games of the Heart

The room buzzed with murmurs as Dante stepped away from the auction stage, his confident stride drawing the attention of onlookers. He didn't glance at them, his focus fixed solely on me. Even as I tried to steady my breathing, I could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on me like a thunderstorm ready to break.

"What the hell was that about?" Lily hissed in my ear as she handed me a glass of champagne.

"He's trying to prove something," I muttered, keeping my gaze anywhere but on Dante. "As if throwing half a million dollars around will change anything."

"Well, it worked," she said, nodding toward the growing crowd whispering about the dramatic showdown between us. "Now everyone thinks there's some torrid love affair between you two."

I laughed bitterly. "Let them think what they want. I know the truth, and that's enough."

But was it? My mind betrayed me, playing back every detail of the interaction: the intensity in his gaze, the almost smile when I raised the bid, the unspoken challenge that hung between us like an electric current.

"Don't let him get in your head, Elizabeth," Lily warned as if reading my thoughts.

Before I could respond, a low, familiar voice interrupted.

"May I have a moment with my wife?"

My stomach clenched at the sound of Dante's voice, smooth and commanding as ever. I turned to face him, lifting my chin in defiance.

"Ex-wife," I corrected sharply, the words tasting like iron on my tongue.

"Not officially," he said, his lips curving into a maddeningly calm smile.

Lily opened her mouth to retort, but I placed a hand on her arm. "It's fine, Lily. I'll handle this."

Her eyes darted between us before she sighed. "Fine. But if he tries anything, I'm calling security."

"Noted," I said, watching as she walked away reluctantly.

I turned back to Dante, who was studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

"You can't keep doing this," I said, keeping my voice low.

"Doing what?" he asked, his tone infuriatingly casual.

"Showing up wherever I go, bidding on yachts just to prove a point, throwing around the word 'wife' like it still means something."

"But it does," he said, his expression softening. "At least, it does to me."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "You've got to be kidding me. It didn't mean anything to you when I was pregnant and begging for your attention. It didn't mean anything when I lost our baby and you weren't there. So why now, Dante? Why do I suddenly matter?"

The words hung between us like a loaded gun. For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw tightening as he looked away.

"Because I was a fool," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I made mistakes, Elizabeth—mistakes I'll regret for the rest of my life. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make things right now."

I stared at him, disbelief and anger warring within me. "You think you can just waltz back into my life and 'make things right'? Do you have any idea how much pain you caused me? How long it took me to put myself back together?"

"I know I hurt you," he said, stepping closer. "And I know I don't deserve a second chance. But that doesn't mean I won't fight for one."

"Fight all you want," I said, taking a step back. "You'll never win."

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the man I had once loved—fierce, determined, and unrelenting.

"We'll see about that," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

---

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I avoided Dante as best I could, throwing myself into conversations with other guests and pretending to be unaffected. But the truth was, I was shaken.

As Lily and I left the auction, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder. Dante was standing near the exit, watching me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

"Don't look back," Lily muttered, pulling me toward the car waiting at the curb.

I nodded, forcing myself to keep moving. But as we drove away, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over.

---

The next morning, I threw myself into work, determined to push Dante out of my mind. But as the day went on, it became clear that he wasn't going to make that easy.

A delivery arrived at my office just before noon—a massive bouquet of red roses, their scent filling the room like a tangible reminder of him.

There was a card attached, the handwriting unmistakably his:

Elizabeth,

You're right—I can't erase the past. But I can promise you this: I won't stop trying to make up for it.

-Dante

I crumpled the card and tossed it in the trash, ignoring the pang of emotion it stirred.

"Bold move," Lily said, leaning against the doorway with a smirk.

I sighed. "Don't start."

"I'm just saying," she said, holding up her hands. "The man's persistent."

"Persistence doesn't make up for years of neglect," I shot back.

"True," she agreed. "But it does make for good entertainment."

I couldn't help but laugh, even as the knot in my chest tightened.

---

By the time I got home that evening, I was exhausted. All I wanted was to pour a glass of wine, take a long bath, and forget about Dante for a while.

But as I stepped into my apartment, I froze.

Sitting on the coffee table was a familiar box—a small, wooden jewelry box I hadn't seen in years.

My heart pounded as I approached it, my mind racing. How had it gotten here?

Inside, I found a necklace—a delicate silver chain with a tiny charm shaped like a star. It was the same necklace Dante had given me on our first anniversary, back when we were still trying to make our marriage work.

There was a note inside the box:

Elizabeth,

I know I've lost your trust, and I know it's not something I can earn back overnight. But this necklace reminded me of a time when we were happy—a time when I didn't take you for granted. I hope it can remind you too.

-Dante

I stared at the note, my emotions a tangled mess. Part of me wanted to throw the box out the window, to reject his attempts to worm his way back into my life. But another part of me—a small, traitorous part—couldn't help but wonder if he was sincere.

I set the box aside and sank onto the couch, burying my face in my hands.

What was I going to do?

---

That night, I dreamed of the past—of the early days of my marriage to Dante, when things had been good. I saw the way he used to look at me, the way he used to hold me, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of the love I had once felt for him.

But then the dream shifted, and I was back in that hospital room, alone and broken. The memory of losing my baby hit me like a punch to the gut, and I woke up gasping for air.

I sat up in bed, my chest heaving as I tried to calm myself.

No matter what Dante said or did, I couldn't let myself forget the pain he had caused me.

I couldn't let myself fall for him again.