No one followed me when I left the Caruso estate.

My mother stayed behind with the medical report, while my father returned downstairs to finish reviewing the wedding guest list. Through the closed door, I could still hear the doctor examining Bianca and Matteo answering in a low, urgent voice.

The snow had already settled thickly.

I did not return to my apartment. I went back to the old clock tower at Northwestern and sat on the same bench where I had waited for Matteo only hours earlier.

The ache in my abdomen had not stopped.

【Time remaining: 02:17:46.】

During Bianca’s coma, my mother barely left the hospital, my father canceled every family meeting, and Matteo spent night after night outside the ICU.

I handled the Caruso family’s legitimate business during the day, brought them food and clothes at night, then returned alone to an empty apartment.

No one ever asked whether I was tired. They only said that if Bianca never woke, the family would fall apart.

I had wanted her to wake too. I had even defended her to Matteo, telling him she was not trying to ruin our wedding; she was afraid of dying.

Now that she had survived, they expected me to pay for it with my marriage and my child.

My phone vibrated.

Matteo had sent a message.

Bianca is stable now. I really can’t leave tonight.

Another followed minutes later.

After the wedding, we’ll talk properly. I’ll confess my love as many times as you want.

Then I understood why he had never believed me.

Bianca’s heart had already stopped once in front of him, so her fear was real. I had always remained beside him—quiet, healthy, and willing to wait.

He thought I had endless time. Once Bianca was safe, he could make it up to me with another wedding, another ring, another belated promise.

But I had no later.

【Time remaining: 01:03:21.】

I did not reply.

Snow gathered in my hair and across my shoulders. My body grew colder, while the pain in my abdomen slowly faded.

I rested a hand over the life inside me and remembered Matteo once saying he hoped our first child would look like me. He had promised to teach them to ride and never let the family decide their future.

Now he would not give them even one unconditional declaration of love.

Shortly before three in the morning, Bianca posted on Instagram.

She sat beside the fire at the De Luca estate, wrapped in a blanket bearing the family crest. Matteo sat beside her, warming her hands between his. The revised wedding guest list lay on the table.

Her caption read:

Home is where no one lets you face the cold alone.

My mother liked the post.

My father commented:

You are safe now.

Another hour passed while the snow continued to cover me.

I looked at those words and smiled.

They had finally protected the person they had chosen.

The final countdown began.

【00:00:05.】

I closed my eyes and pressed my hand over my abdomen.

I’m sorry.

I did not know whether the apology was for my child or for the woman who had trusted them.

【Three.】

【Two.】

【One.】

When the countdown reached zero, the pain disappeared.

The snow was still falling, but I was standing beside the bench now. My body sat beneath a layer of white, head lowered, both hands still protecting my stomach, as though waiting for someone who would never come.

The phone slipped from my frozen fingers and lit one last time.

Matteo had sent another message.

[Isa, stop this. Go home and wait for me.]

The screen went dark.