Thirty Years, One Mistake Chapter 03
The painting behind her was a custom piece I’d commissioned from a master.
Just because Luca said he liked it, I’d made a special trip, stood outside the artist’s studio in heels all afternoon until he finally agreed.
Erin was a fairly popular travel blogger.
I scrolled down.
The first posts about Luca appeared three years ago.
Erin and a man held hands. In the background — our high school field.
[Finally dating my eighteen year old crush!]
That was the same spot where we’d first held hands at eighteen. The night breeze was cool, Luca’s palms sweating with nerves.
“When we’re old and gray, let’s come back here together.”
Two years ago, mid August, around our wedding anniversary.
Luca said he was too busy to celebrate. But his social media showed him at a street food stall with Erin.
Last New Year’s Eve, I was in the hospital with a high fever.
Luca appeared in Erin’s video, carefully disinfecting a scratch on her finger.
My hand shook as I held the phone.
Luca’s face never appeared in any of her posts.
But the familiar cuffs, the lines on his palm — I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
A new post from Erin popped up.
A lace maid outfit. So revealing that one look made me sick.
[Bought it but forgot to pick it up. Lucky someone remembered. Tonight I’ll reward him.]
So that’s what Luca had come back to the apartment for.
Her fans joked in the comments: “Brother in law’s living the good life? Sister really spoils him.”
Erin replied: “What can I say? I asked him today when he first fell for me. He said eight years ago, the day I first told him I liked him. He said my eyes were so bright they scared him. He’s never forgotten.”
“Just knowing he thought of me all those years makes me so soft.”
Eight years ago — the day I caught them.
I pressed my lips together. But the tears still fell, silent and unstoppable.
Erin posted another video.
The camera panned over a big bed covered in rose petals.
The woman giggled. “A fan asked me to ask you — now that you’re thirty, any new plans for our relationship?”
The man chuckled. “Plans? I kind of want a kid. Will you have one for me, baby?”
The camera shook. The sound of fabric rustling roughly.
My fingers were stiff. It took me three tries to dial Luca.
The phone rang three times before he answered.
“Luca,” my voice trembled. “Am I still in your future plans?”
A few seconds of silence. Then he said casually, “Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?”
“By the way, my parents said you have a surprise for me. They asked me several times. What is it?”
From the other end, Erin’s soft whisper: “Honey, if you don’t focus, I’ll have to punish you.”
If I hadn’t walked in on them, I might have been stupid enough to think she was just someone who worked for him.
My eyes swept over the shredded prenatal test results in the trash can. I whispered, “It’s gone.”
The surprise is gone. The love we shared, the future we once planned — all gone.
Luca’s voice held a trace of anger.
“Why are you throwing a tantrum?”
“I’ve missed out on several chances to expand the family business because of you — because you’re always so suspicious.”
“I’m here tonight to negotiate for our family’s future. Can you just let me breathe for one second?”
More tears fell. I smiled softly.
“Luca, you’re right.”
“I’m just being childish.”
“When you get back to New York, we’ll get a divorce.”
