Catherine’s POV
I slept like the dead that night.
Two days running I’d barely closed my eyes, so when I finally crashed, I crashed hard.
When I woke the next morning, sunlight was already spilling across my pillow, and there was a message glowing on my phone.
From Lorenzo Marino.
My husband.
The man I still barely knew.
“My family wants to meet you.
Dinner tomorrow night.
You free?”
I stared at it, chewing the inside of my cheek.
Meeting his family sounded like the last thing on earth I wanted to do.
I typed back:
“Sorry, Mr.
Marino.
Something came up tonight.
Can we do it another time?”
I hit send, then tossed the phone onto the mattress and went to wash up.
Once I was dressed, I called Julia.
She picked up on the fifth ring, her voice thick with sleep and outrage.
“Catherine Vitale.
Do you have the faintest idea how rude it is to drag a woman out of her beauty sleep?”
“It’s almost time to clock in, you disaster.
You’re still in bed?
What are you, a house cat?”
There was a rustle, a long pause, then a strange, choked silence on the other end.
When she spoke again, her voice had gone rough and quiet.
“So.
Funny story.
I may have gotten a little carried away last night.”
“Let me guess.
You hit the bars again.” I rolled my eyes.
“Get up.
You’re coming shopping with me.
Lunchtime.
My treat, if you stop whining.”
“Ugh, fine.
Her Highness summons and her loyal servant obeys.” She groaned, and I heard sheets rustling before I hung up.
I spent the morning buried at my desk, the way I spent most mornings.
Spreadsheets, emails, a supervisor who treated the word “urgent” like a personality trait.
It was dull, honest work, and honestly, I liked it that way.
Nobody at the office cared whose daughter I was or wasn’t.
Nobody knew about Marco, or Isabella, or the fact that I’d apparently married a man I’d known for all of five minutes.
Quiet, competent, invisible in the good way.
By the time my phone buzzed against the desk, I’d almost forgotten I’d made plans.
“I’m downstairs.
Come save me from the sun.
It’s an assault.”
I grabbed my bag and headed out.
We met in front of my building, and the second I saw her, I knew exactly what kind of night she’d had.
Sunglasses.
Indoors.
And she was walking like her hips had filed a formal complaint.
When I told her the whole point of today was hunting down a birthday gift for Marco’s mother, she stopped dead and looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head.
“Hold up.” She yanked the sunglasses down her nose.
“The man cheated on you, humiliated you, and you’re out here shopping for his mom’s birthday?”
“It’s different,” I said.
“Mr.
and Mrs.
Conti were always good to me.
Genuinely.
Marco’s a piece of garbage, sure, but that’s Marco.
His parents never did anything wrong.
You don’t torch the whole family over one rotten apple.”
“Okay, saint.” She started walking again, wincing.
“So when exactly is Prince Charming planning to break the news to his parents that you two split?
Or are you supposed to keep smiling across their dinner table while he plays happy little couple with your sister for the rest of your life?”
I thought about it.
My chest tightened.
“Give it some time,” I said finally.
“His mom, Rosa, she just had surgery a month ago.
Doctor said no big shocks, nothing stressful.
I’d rather wait until she’s stronger.”
I didn’t want to be the reason something went wrong for her.
That woman had once held my hand in a hospital waiting-room when nobody else bothered to show.
I owed her better than a unleashing a scandal on her.
“The real problem is I have no clue what to actually get her.”
My budget was thin, and I knew whatever I picked, she’d love it just because it came from me.
But I still wanted it to be something useful.
Something that mattered.
That was when I noticed the mark on Julia’s neck.
A dark red bruise, half-tucked under her collar.
My jaw dropped.
“Oh my God.
Did you just roll out of some guy’s bed this morning?”
She slapped a hand over my mouth.
“Keep your voice down, would you?”
I pried her fingers off.
You swore up and down you only ever went to those bars to dance.
You told me you never did the whole one-night-stand thing.”
Her eyes darted sideways.
She tugged her collar higher.
“Yeah, well.
I may have had a few too many.”
The real reason, I suspected, was that the guy had been too good-looking to walk away from.
But she’d sooner die than admit it in broad daylight.
I flicked her forehead, exasperated.
“You need to knock it off with those places.
Aren’t you scared you’ll catch something?”
She snorted, biting back a grin.
“Nope.
Trust me, that boy last night was fresh out of the box.”
I squinted at her.
“Why do you look like you’re…
reminiscing?”
She cleared her throat, straightened her collar, and put on her most dignified face.
“For your information, it was pretty spectacular.
If you hadn’t called and dragged me out, I’d have kept him for round two this morning.”
Then she sighed, genuinely mournful.
“Shame I didn’t wake him up and grab a number.”
I huffed.
“So this is my fault now?
I cockblocked your morning glory?”
She waved me off.
“No, no.
Kidding.
One more round and I wouldn’t be walking at all.”
We drifted through the mall like that, laughing and bickering, and for a minute everything felt almost normal.
Until I saw them.
Isabella and Marco.
Also shopping.
Also, of all the rotten luck in the world, here to buy a birthday gift for his mother.
Small world.
Cruel one, too.
Julia crossed her arms and said, loud enough for the whole floor to catch it, “Cat.
Twelve o’clock.
Little Miss Innocent, incoming.”
Isabella latched onto Marco’s arm and stamped her foot like a toddler.
“Marco.
Make them stop.”
He pulled her against his chest, shielding her from us like we were a firing squad, and announced grandly, “If you’ve got a problem, take it up with me.
I’m the one who fell for her.
Leave Bella out of it.”