I didn't go to my room.
I saw Matteo walking toward the hotel's east wing, and before I could think better of it, I followed.
He turned a corner. I turned after him.
"Matteo."
He stopped, then I watched him turn slowly.
We stood in an empty hallway, the sounds of the party distant behind us. The lighting was soft, and golden. He looked tired. Beautiful, yet unreachable.
I didn't know what to say.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. We just looked at each other. All the words I should say—apologies, explanations, confessions—stuck in my throat.
"I see you're working things out with Femi," he said finally, his accent thicker than usual.
I nodded. My voice had abandoned me.
"Bene.I'm glad." He smiled, but it was the saddest smile I'd ever seen, full of resignation. "I hope it brings you the clarity you need."
"Matteo—"
"I should check on the wine delivery." He took a step back, creating distance. "Make sure everything is ready for tomorrow's rehearsal."
"Wait—"
"Goodnight,Bella."
He turned and walked away down the corridor.
I stood in that empty hallway, watching him go, and I didn't understand why it felt like he'd taken something vital with him.
A piece of me.
He'd walked away with a piece of me, and I hadn't even realized it was his to take until it was already gone.
18ISABELLE
The rehearsal dinnerwas held on the hotel's west terrace, overlooking the endless ocean.
Long tables draped in white linen. Candles flickering in glass hurricanes. Flowers everywhere—plumeria and orchids, their scent heavy in the warm evening air. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of coral and gold, and the whole scene looked like something from a magazine.
I sat between Femi and Xavier, my plate untouched in front of me. The food was beautiful—seared fish with mango salsa, tropical fruits arranged like art, something with coconut that smelled incredible—but my stomach was in knots.
Tomorrow was the wedding. Tomorrow, Aria would walk down the aisle in the dress I'd made, and Sebastian would definitely cry, and my family would celebrate the beginning of something new.
And I still didn't know what I was doing with my own life.
Femi's hand found my knee under the table, his warm hand squeezed gently.
"You alright?" he murmured. "You've barely touched your food."
"Just nervous about tomorrow."
He smiled. "It's going to be fine, Issy. Better than fine. Aria's going to look stunning, and everyone will know it's because of you."
I nodded, trying to return his smile.
