I Said Yes to Someone Else

The offer came the same week the pregnancy was confirmed.

I was standing at the window of my Italy apartment, staring out at the quiet street below, when Zion’s message popped up:

“If you want to come home, I’m ready. Let’s get married.”

My first reaction wasn’t joy. It was relief.

Because the truth was, I wasn’t just saying yes to a man. I was choosing an escape route.

Because I was carrying twins.

Because I had to protect them—from Kenji, from the mess, from everything I could no longer control.

Later that day, I called Tristan. My brother sounded lighter the second he answered.

“I’ve made up my mind—I’m coming back home to get married,” I told him.

The pause was brief but filled with emotion. “That’s honestly such great news,” Tristan said, exhaling like he’d been holding his breath for years. “You’ve been in Italy what, three years now? Living your dream, building your brand... Mom and Dad were starting to think you’d settled down over there permanently. It’s good to know you’re finally coming back.”

His words were kind, but they landed like weights.

Three years.

Three long, complicated years.

Everyone thought I’d crossed the ocean for my career. That I’d followed my passion for fashion design, that my spot in the industry had brought me to Italy. Our parents were proud, investing in my education, excited for their daughter to take over the family’s luxury label someday.

But none of them knew the full story.

I hadn’t just moved for a career.

I’d followed a man.

Kenji.

Kenji, Tristan’s best friend. Kenji, his business partner. Kenji, the one who dazzled everyone—smart, charming, untouchable. No one, not even Tristan, suspected how deep it had gone between us. That behind closed doors, Kenji and I had become entangled in something raw, messy, secretive. That he was the reason I left everything I knew.

He’d made me promise to keep it hidden.

Said he didn’t want to complicate things with Tristan.

Said we’d go public later, when the timing was right.

I believed him.

I believed every whispered lie, every kiss that felt like a promise, every moment that seemed like the beginning of forever.

I wore that secrecy like a badge of honor. Convinced myself it meant we were building something sacred. That our silence was a form of devotion.

But Kenji’s love always came with terms and expiration dates. And when Chloe came back into the picture—his ex, his first love, his undoing—everything between us cracked.

Tristan’s voice pulled me out of the memory. “By the way,” he added, “Mom and Dad already have someone in mind for you. He’s amazing, seriously—smart, grounded, raised right. I think you’ll really like him.”

He didn’t give a name. Just quickly switched topics. “Also… you should reach out to Kenji before the wedding. He’s still in Italy, right? Wasn’t he like a brother to you? You should totally invite him.”

My stomach twisted.

Brother.

If only he knew.

“I haven’t really talked to him in a while,” I managed.

Tristan’s laugh was easy. “Yeah, same. He’s been weird lately. Off the radar. Probably busy. Anyway—just think about it.”

But I didn’t need to.

Because everything had already shifted between me and Kenji.

He changed when Chloe returned to the city.

The moment I saw him kiss her in the park like they were the only people on the planet, I knew. Something inside me broke so cleanly, so quietly, it almost felt like a relief.

The front door creaked behind me.

“What wedding?” came a voice from across the room.

My entire body froze.

Kenji.

I spun around, clutching the phone like it could protect me. He stood there in the doorway like he belonged, like everything was still as it used to be.

I ended the call with Tristan.

Kenji stepped into the room with that usual lazy confidence, pretending nothing had changed. Pretending I hadn’t seen what I saw. Acting like he hadn’t kissed someone else with the kind of tenderness he used to reserve for me.

He glanced around, then repeated casually, “So… who’s getting married?”

I gave him the softest smile I could fake. “Just a friend,” I said, each word brittle. “Nothing big.”

He wrapped an arm around me like it was still his right. Like we weren’t already over. “You should wear that blue dress,” he murmured. “You looked unreal in it last time.”

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. “Maybe.”

Kenji dropped onto the couch, scrolling through his phone like we weren’t standing on the ruins of everything we used to be. Like yesterday hadn’t turned my heart inside out.

He looked up with that old familiar smile—the one that used to pull me in like gravity. “I’m starving,” he said cheerfully.

I walked toward the kitchen on autopilot. “I’ll cook,” I replied.

He followed me, slipping into the role of the doting boyfriend like muscle memory. He leaned against the counter, stole sips from my glass, teased me between tasks, acting like we were still okay.

I made his favorite meal without thinking.

Every motion was rehearsed.

Every smell, every sound—it was all drenched in painful familiarity.

He lit up when I served him, like a child being handed their favorite dessert.

“You always spoil me,” he said between bites. “How’d I get so lucky, huh?”

I just smiled and nodded.

He didn’t know I’d already packed my heart and folded it away.

He didn’t know that while he devoured the meal, I’d already made peace with never standing in this kitchen again.

Let him eat.

Let him think this was just another night.

Because by tomorrow, I’d be gone.

Gone home.

Gone to marry someone else.

Gone from the wreckage of a love he never valued enough to protect.

I had clung to this man like he was air.

But the truth?

He was the weight I was drowning under.

Across the table, Kenji looked up, smiling like always—warm, charming, effortless.

“These quiet nights? They’re the best,” he mumbled between bites, still looking at me like I hung the stars.

I gave him a small smile.

Funny how things change.