The Man Who Always Won Lost at Love Chapter 01
My boyfriend, Dante Vescari, never lost at anything. Even when we argued, he had to be the one who came out on top.
At three a.m. on a weekday, I had just finished more than ten straight hours of revisions on a proposal. I was exhausted, but then I came across a long apology Dante had sent to my best friend, Mireya Salvi.
“Why can you apologize to everyone else, but with me, you always have to turn everything into a contest and win?”
Dante only smiled. “You two aren’t the same. And Mireya isn’t just anyone.”
The three of us had grown up together.
If Mireya wasn’t “just anyone,” then what did that make me?
I said nothing. Then a text from my coworker Paula came in.
Paula: [I’m running on fumes here, and Dante just handed the Grand Aurelia account to Mireya. What were the last two weeks of work even for?]
So Dante didn’t have to come out on top every single time after all.
At least when it came to Mireya, he was willing to step aside and let her win.
I was still trying to process it when Dante blew a smoke ring toward me. “Well? Ready to admit you lost?”
“Yeah,” I said calmly. “I lost.”
If this relationship was a competition, then I had lost completely.
So I chose to quit.
…
“If you’d just admitted it this easily from the start, we wouldn’t be fighting all the time.”
Dante stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and headed for the bedroom.
It never occurred to him that he might be the one in the wrong.
“Dante,” I called after him.
“What now?” He didn’t even seem to notice that he was frowning at me again.
“Don’t you owe me an explanation about the Grand Aurelia contract? That account was the result of our whole team’s work. What gave you the right to hand it over?”
Dante paused for a couple of seconds, as if he couldn’t believe I was still talking about it. Then he answered evenly.
“Mireya’s situation is different from yours. She had a much harder time getting hired at Orsatti than you did. She’s come in last two quarters in a row. If she comes in last again, she’ll take it hard.”
I was so angry I almost laughed. “So that means you can hand her two weeks’ worth of work from the entire team just to keep her out of last place?”
Dante frowned. “Don’t make it sound worse than it is. The three of us grew up together. What’s the big deal about helping her out?”
To him, it was just a little favor.
I looked at him. “Would you clean up her messes for the rest of her life? Would you keep giving her other people’s work just to move her up the rankings?”
“I would.”
He answered so quickly that even he froze for a beat afterward.
The living room went silent.
He tried to play it off. “You’ve helped her before too.”
“That’s different.”
“How is it different?” He looked noticeably less sleepy now that we were talking about Mireya.
I kept my emotions in check. “I wouldn’t throw the whole team under the bus to help her.”
Dante narrowed his eyes. “Leona, spare me the self-righteous speech. I get it. You lost to me again tonight, so now you’re picking a fight on purpose.”
He raised his hands in a halfhearted gesture of surrender.
“Fine. This one’s on me. Happy now?”
Then he took his phone and walked into the bedroom without giving me a chance to say anything else.
I sat on the couch for a long time without moving.
It was the first time Dante had ever said he was wrong during an argument.
I used to dream about the day he would genuinely admit it.
And when he finally did, it was for another woman.
And that woman had once been the friend I thought would matter most to me for the rest of my life.
I sat alone in the living room until dawn.
At six that morning, Dante came out of the bedroom looking half asleep. He saw me sitting there, showed no concern at all, and checked his phone instead.
“You’re up early today.”
Then he pulled up his alarm and set it ten minutes earlier.
I stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Setting it earlier.”
“Why?”
“You got up before me today.”
“I’m not losing again tomorrow.”
I suddenly felt exhausted. “Why does even this have to be a competition?”
Still adjusting the alarm, Dante said, “Because I lost to you once ten years ago. There won’t be a second time.”
Ten years ago? I had no memory of that at all, but I was too exhausted even to ask what he meant.
I slowly stood up. “You don’t need to change it.”
Dante’s hand stopped in midair.
I continued, “I’m moving out.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, moving out? The house we’re supposed to move into isn’t even done being renovated yet. We can just stay here for a few more months.”
I looked at him. “I’m not moving into that house.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the engagement is off. I’m not marrying you.”
Dante went completely still, then answered almost on instinct. “No.”
A jumble of emotions crossed his face. After a long moment, he suddenly laughed. “Leona, if anyone was going to dump the other, it should’ve been me. You had to beat me to that too?”
For once, I didn’t argue. “Whatever. If you want to say you dumped me, fine.”
By then, I’d had the entire night to think, and my mind was made up.
Dante had turned what we called love into just another competition from the very beginning.
I was done playing.
And it wasn’t just the relationship. I didn’t want anything tying me to him at work, either.
Right then, a new email appeared on my phone.
[Ms. Marcelli, we’re pleased to have received your confirmation. Your official offer letter from Westerlin Consulting is attached.]
I stared at the email. For the first time, admitting defeat didn’t seem so scary.
After all, I hadn’t lost to Dante.
I had simply walked away from his game.
