The unstoppable Dante

Fired. It felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. $500. Gone. His thoughts spiraled. He'd promised her—he'd promised.

The wig, he thought, the birthday gift I promised her. She's been so patient with me, always supporting me when no one else would. How can I face her now? How can I keep disappointing her?

He thought about his girlfriend, Mia. Few years together, and not once had she ever made him feel like he wasn't enough. Despite all the snide remarks, the people who looked down on him, and the humiliating jobs he'd taken just to get by, she never once turned her back on him. She really loves me. I know it. Even when he had nothing—when he was scraping the bottom, she was there, cheering him on, reminding him that one day things would get better..

What am I going to say to her?

He pictured her face—the way she always smiled at him, even when he had nothing to offer. "I'll make it right," he'd promised. But how could he?

He stopped in front of her door. He stood there for a moment, practicing his words.

"Mia, I'm sorry. I got fired. I couldn't get the gift. But I swear, I'll make it up to you."

No, that sounds weak. She'll never buy that.

He cleared his throat, trying again.

"Mia, I've failed. But I'm not giving up. I'll get it back. I'll get us back to where we were. I won't let you down again."

His breath caught in his throat. He stood there for what felt like an eternity. Then, just as he was about to raise his hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing Mia.

She stood there in nothing but a bedroom robe, her hair still damp from the shower. But it wasn't the robe that caught Dante off guard—it was the look in her eyes.

Her gaze flickered across him, and her lips pressed into a thin line, almost as if she was... waiting. Expecting someone.

"Dante." Her voice was cold, sharp. Not the warm, gentle tone he was used to.

He felt a lump rise in his throat. "Mia… I—"

Dante's chest tightened as Mia crossed her arms, the coldness in her voice slicing through him. "You don't even know what time it is, Dante. What are you doing here?" Her gaze flicked nervously to the door again, like she was waiting for someone else to show up.

What's going on? Dante's mind raced. The Mia he knew would never be like this. Never so distant, so cold.

"I… I need to tell you something," Dante said, his voice shaking with uncertainty.

Mia exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing as she stood in the doorway. "You want to tell me something? Fine. But I have something to tell you too. You go first."

He swallowed hard, his hands trembling. This is it. I'll explain it all. She'll understand.

"I'm sorry, Mia," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't get you the gift. The wig. I promised you I would, but—"

Mia's lips twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Oh, you couldn't get it?" she interrupted, her tone dripping with disbelief. "Are you serious, Dante? How could I expect anything different from you? Always promising, but never delivering. You're pathetic."

Dante's heart cracked at her words. Pathetic?

"No, Mia, please, it's not like that." His breath hitched as he tried to explain. "I got fired today. The money I was saving for the gift—it's gone. But I'm going to make things right, I swear."

Her eyes flickered with something that felt like indifference. "Fired, huh?" she said, her voice flat. "What a surprise. Always running around, failing at everything."

"I'm trying! I'm doing everything I can to—"

But Mia raised her hand, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't have to sit here listening to you make excuses for every damn thing you can't do. I've heard it all before."

Dante froze. The words hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like the floor was dropping out beneath him.

"Mia, what… what are you saying?" He stepped forward, his hands reaching out instinctively, wanting to touch her, wanting her to see he was still the same person, still the person who loved her.

But Mia turned her back on him, her voice sharp as she spoke again, "I'm not interested in this anymore, Dante."

His mind stopped. "What? What do you mean?"

Her voice grew colder, if that was even possible. "I'm done. It's over."

Dante couldn't process what she was saying. It's over? His mind whirled. How could it be?

"Why?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Why, Mia? After everything, after two years?"

She didn't look at him, her face turned away, as if she couldn't stand the sight of him anymore. "Because I don't need this. I need more. I need someone who's actually going to make it, Dante. Someone who doesn't just talk about change, but actually does it."

His heart was shattering, the weight of her words crushing him. More? What does that even mean?

Before he could speak again, the door behind her creaked open. Dante's breath caught in his throat as a man stepped into the room, his presence so confident it felt almost suffocating.

The man's hand rested casually on Mia's shoulder, then slid down to her waist. Dante blinked, disbelief flashing across his face.

"Hey, babe," the man said, his voice low and smooth, as he wrapped his arms around Mia from behind, pulling her close. Dante's eyes widened as the man's hands slid down her body, his fingers brushing over her chest, cupping her breasts.

Dante's breath hitched, his stomach twisting in knots. What the hell is happening?

Mia didn't even flinch. She didn't push him away. In fact, she leaned back against him, her eyes never leaving Dante's as she spoke in a cool, detached tone.

"You see, Dante? This is what I've been waiting for. Someone who actually knows how to treat me."

Dante's mind went blank. The man's hands were still on her, his fingers caressing her in ways Dante had never even dared to. He couldn't breathe.

He'd never touched her like that. Not once. And now… now here she was, with someone else, someone from his past.

Lucas?

His mind screamed the word, but his body refused to move. The man standing behind Mia, holding her so casually, was none other than his cousin.

"Lucas…?" The name barely left Dante's lips, a strangled whisper that seemed to hang in the air, mocking him.

Mia didn't even flinch when Dante spoke. She didn't look at him, didn't even seem to care. She was too focused on Lucas, resting her head back against him.

"Yeah," Lucas said, his voice smooth, almost too calm. He casually brushed a stray lock of hair off Mia's shoulder, his hand lingering there longer than necessary. "Surprised to see me here, cousin?"