Chapter 8: You Should Have Chosen Me

By midnight, the Lombardi estate was still awake.

The business office had been flooded with calls from partners asking why Willa Cross had withdrawn from several contracts without warning.

Hollis sat alone in his study, staring at the termination notices spread across his desk.

He had seen Willa handle business before.

She was careful, patient, and almost painfully reasonable.

She never made impulsive decisions.

Which meant she had been planning this long before he realized she was serious.

His phone vibrated.

A message from the family attorney appeared.

[Several of Willa's independent suppliers have confirmed that she is restructuring her company. She has also requested that all Lombardi-related accounts be transferred to her personal management.]

Hollis read it twice.

She wasn't running away.

She was rebuilding.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Ten years.

Ten years together, and he had never once imagined what Willa's life would look like without him.

Because he had always assumed there would be a place for him in it.

There always had been.

Until today.

***

The next morning, I woke before sunrise.

My mother was already in the kitchen.

She looked surprised to see me.

“You're up early.”

“I have work.”

She smiled faintly.

“Of course you do.”

I made coffee and opened my laptop at the dining table.

There were over two hundred unread emails waiting for me.

Most were from clients.

A few were from employees asking whether the rumors about the canceled wedding were true.

I typed one announcement and sent it to the entire company.

The wedding is canceled. The company remains fully operational. No employee's position or contract will be affected.

That was all.

I didn't mention Hollis.

I didn't mention Gianna.

I didn't explain what had happened.

For the first time, my private humiliation didn't need to become public entertainment.

My father entered the room holding a folder.

“You have a meeting at ten.”

I looked up.

“With whom?”

“A hotel group from Manhattan.”

He placed the folder beside my laptop.

“They want an exclusive pastry contract for twenty of their properties.”

I blinked.

“Twenty?”

“They heard the Lombardi agreement was ending.”

A small smile touched my lips.

“Then let's give them something better.”

My father smiled back.

“That's my daughter.”

The words warmed me more than I expected.

My daughter.

I had spent years wondering whether I truly belonged in my own family.

Now I realized belonging wasn't something another person could grant me.

It was something I could choose for myself.

***

At ten o'clock, I walked into the conference room in a simple black suit.

By noon, the first draft of the contract was on the table.

By two, we had agreed on the major terms.

By four, I had signed.

The deal was worth more than any contract I had ever handled independently.

When I left the meeting, my phone was filled with missed calls.

Hollis.

Seven times.

I stared at his name for a long moment.

Then I turned the phone face down.

He called again.

This time, I answered.

“Willa.”

His voice sounded rough.

“Where are you?”

“Working.”

There was a pause.

“You canceled everything.”

“I canceled the contracts tied to your family.”

“You could have talked to me first.”

I almost laughed.

“I tried talking to you yesterday.”

Silence.

“You told me to apologize.”

“That was different.”

“No, Hollis. It wasn't.”

His breathing changed.

“Come back.”

I looked through the glass doors of the hotel and watched employees carrying trays of pastries into the lobby.

“Why?”

He didn't answer.

“You said the wedding was a formality.”

“I know what I said.”

“You said my position was secure.”

“It is.”

“You said Gianna only wanted to experience a wedding.”

His voice dropped.

“Willa…”

I interrupted him.

“She experienced everything.”

“The dress. The entrance. The vows. The signet ring. The cake. Your family.”

“And you expected me to sit in a side room until she was finished.”

He didn't deny it.

That silence told me everything.

“The wedding is over, Hollis.”

“No.”

His answer came instantly.

“It isn't.”

I frowned.

“The marriage papers were never signed.”

“Then we sign them now.”

I shook my head even though he couldn't see me.

“I don't want to.”

His voice became strangely quiet.

“You loved me yesterday.”

My chest tightened.

“Yesterday I still believed you loved me.”

He went silent.

I ended the call.

***

That evening, Hollis drove to my parents' house himself.

My father opened the door.

The moment Hollis saw him, he stopped.

“Mr. Cross.”

My father didn't move aside.

“Why are you here?”

“I need to speak to Willa.”

“She doesn't want to speak to you.”

Hollis's jaw tightened.

“I know what happened at the wedding was wrong.”

My father gave a humorless smile.

“You only know because she left.”

Hollis said nothing.

“If she had stayed,” my father continued, “you would still be telling her that the cake was just a cake.”

The words hit hard.

Hollis looked past him.

“Please.”

My father finally stepped aside.

I was standing at the end of the hallway.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Hollis looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.

No wedding dress.

No makeup.

No diamond ring.

No Lombardi signet.

Just me.

“Willa.”

“What do you want?”

He took a step forward.

“I want to fix this.”

I shook my head.

“You can't.”

“I can try.”

“You had ten years to try.”

His expression faltered.

“I made mistakes.”

“You made choices.”

That stopped him.

I looked directly into his eyes.

“Every time Gianna needed something, you chose her.”

“Every time I needed you, you told me it wasn't important.”

“And yesterday, when you had one chance to make me feel like your future wife, you chose to make someone else feel special instead.”

Hollis's eyes darkened.

“Gianna doesn't mean what you think she means to me.”

“Then why did she get everything that was supposed to be mine?”

He had no answer.

I gave him a tired smile.

“Go home, Hollis.”

He stood there for several seconds.

Then he whispered, “You really won't come back?”

“No.”

He lowered his head.

For the first time in ten years, Hollis Lombardi looked like a man who had finally realized that he could lose me.

But this time, I wasn't afraid of losing him.