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Iquit.

After Dante dropped the bombshell of birth control on me on our walk in, I headed to my desk, sparse and not personal and sat down mind whirling.

There was nothing to look at to center myself away from the spiraling in my head.

No pictures. No knick knacks. Not even a stress ball.

Really could use a stress ball right now.

It was like I never settled myself in here enough to care about leaving. And maybe that was how I was with everything.

Dante had been the one to unpack my clothes because I had left before even bothering to do it. I hadn’t settled into the place I was supposed to be living because I was too busy running off to deal with my feelings.

But hell, I was good at running.

I had bought a few things for the penthouse in an attempt to make it more livable. But were throw pillows on a couch really a gesture I should be celebrating?

He didn’t want me.

He didn’t want a future with me.

He saw me and knew I’d be a bad mother. All the good mothering had been reserved for women like my mama.

I was selfish.

Even only knowing me for a week Dante could see my selfishness and knew better than to have a child with me. His business instincts take me in and see the superficial side of me so easily.

No seersucker overalls and sailor suits on the Cape. No matching colored prints to wear with my children. No hand made cards with little finger prints for holidays. No planning a family theme for Halloween and staying up for weeks to sew costumes so it’s just right for one night. No playing Santa on Christmas morning in the same patterned pajamas, in front of a tree we decorated with ornaments we collected on vacations or made with. too much glitter at the dining room table. No traditions being passed along or even better, creating our own.

All the magic of motherhood was lost.

Had I always wanted kids? Had I already thought about being pregnant? When did it become such a core part of my future? Something that I craved more than I could explain?

I couldn’t stay here.

My heels clicked as I walked into my bosses office, meeting her eyes as I stood in the doorway, scattered and shaking. My mind was a mess as my emotions all bled together and half formed plans drifted in and out of my thoughts.

This marriage was taking everything from me and I wasn’t sure there would be any of me left.

“I quit. I’m sorry I can’t give a two week notice. Just…here’s my badge and key and you can send my final check to direct deposit or to my home address.”

I didn’t even give my boss a chance to say anything, turning and walking out of the office as my mind went into overdrive.

A plan.

I needed a fucking plan.

What steps could I take.

Step One: Stay away from Dante.

Step Two: Don’t get emotionally attached.

Step Three: Remember this wedding isn’t a fairytale but a business arrangement.

Finally, I stopped, blinking as I thought of the last idea.

This wasn’t a love match. This was a contract I had signed. A job. And since I wasn’t technically employed anymore I could throw myself fully into planning this wedding.

Pulling out my phone as I walked back to the penthouse I needed to start making plans. So I did that to calm myself down and put myself back on track,

I made an appointment with the wedding planner Dante’s mother had been working with at 1pm, a bridal consultation for a dress at 10AM, I’d shop for a dress for the engagement party at noon, and I booked some spa services so I’d be ready for this party this afternoon.

It felt better having an idea of what to do. Already the stress seemed to roll off my back giving me a chance to breathe.

But I was still furious with Dante.

How could he just assume that I wanted birth control? And he hadn’t even texted me after to check in and make his point clear.

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

It was 9 AM as I entered the penthouse.

Changing from the cream colored shift to a soft blue silk knee length dress and flats. I was going to be walking around and wanted to be comfortable. Cobblestone in heels was a great way to roll an ankle.

I packed heels in my bag to try on with the wedding dress ,as well as looking for the box my father had given me with my mothers wedding veil. He expected me to wear it and I didn’t want to disappoint him. Plus mama had wanted me to marry like this so it would be like she was there with me.

Are sens

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