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Her heart raced.
Something felt off.
The house was quiet-too quiet.
The scent hit her first-perfume that wasn't hers, like the watery smell of the ocean beating on the seashore.
A blouse and bra lay discarded on the armrest, lacy with red embroidery. She couldn't believe her eyes.
In fact, she was stunned, gazing at the offending piece of clothing, wondering what on earth it was doing there. And what exactly was going on?
Why was there a blouse and bra that didn't belong to her on the sofa she bought with her own money?
Why was it in her fiancé's house in the first place?
Indignation burned through her as her mind immediately fit the pieces together. She resolved to put a face to the mystery woman.
Her breath quickened as she marched up the stairs towards her room.
The peace in the still air was shattered by the laughter echoing from her bedroom. The laughter was a mix of voices.
The warm, ebony tang of her man's voice-and another voice, foreign.
Another voice-female.
Arica imagined a shirtless woman in the same room with her fiancé.
His eyes feasting on her titties, probably salivating over them. "Your boobs are too small," he had once complained to her.
Another peal of laughter erupted between them again and Arica saw red. Heck, her man wasn't even that funny.
Were they laughing at her? At her foolishness?
Foolishness to travel to New York and do long distance with him for two years?
Did she really think he'd remain faithful to her all these years?
Was she foolish when she said yes to his marriage proposal he made over video call, over Skype?
Thoughts like these ran berserk through her mind as her heart and mind failed her.
She paused outside her bedroom door, dread inking into her very being.
That was when she heard it.
A smack of flesh on flesh.
A feminine, disgusting giggle.
A husky voice saying, "You love my ass too much, Bryan."
Shaky breath.
Trembling fingers.
A sudden migraine.
Vision hazy with tears.
After spending two years building her mother's company in New York and being newly engaged, she had expected to come back to Italy running into the loving arms of her fiancé-not this. Never this.
With trembling fingers, she touched her room door, and it gave way a little. She managed to choke back a bitter chuckle. They didn't even bother locking the door. Her own bedroom!
He didn't know she was coming back today. She wanted it to be a surprise for him, but the tables turned and she ended up being the one rendered speechless.
Three days ago, he'd begged for her to come back. She could still recall his voice as clear as day.
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