There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Of course. Why?”
I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced, a whirlwind of confusion and betrayal. Was this why he’d been distant? Was this why he’d been so secretive? Not because he was planning something for me, but because he was with her?
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to stay calm. "I saw the news."
There was silence on the other end. Then, he cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. “You’re not working, Giovanni. You’re with Anya.”
The silence that followed was deafening. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d imagined it all. Maybe I’d misread the situation. But no. The truth was right in front of me.
“I can explain,” Giovanni finally said, but his words sounded empty, like a hollow promise.
I stood up, pacing the room as the tears finally spilled over. “Explain? What is there to explain? You lied to me! You promised she was just a friend, but now you’re out there with her, setting off fireworks while I’m here—waiting for you.”
“Samara, please. It’s not what you think—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “I thought... I thought we had something real. I believed you when you told me I was your girlfriend, that we were going to build a life together. But now I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”
“Samara, don’t do this. I love you.”
“No, Giovanni. You don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t be with her right now.” My chest ached with every word, but I couldn’t stop. “I can’t do this anymore. We’re done.”
I hung up before he could say anything else. The silence in the room was suffocating. My birthday. The day I thought he might propose. And instead, I was left standing here, broken.
I collapsed onto the couch, burying my face in my hands as the sobs finally overtook me. All I could think about was how foolish I’d been to believe him. To believe in us. How could I have been so blind? I had built my world around him. He was all I had. And now it was all falling apart.
I took a deep breath and looked at the receipt again—the ring he bought for someone. It was clear now. It was never meant for me.
Tears streamed down my face as I whispered to myself, “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”