Reynold's expression shifted in surprise. I’d never spoken like that. Then he slowly nodded, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
I thought he might thank me. But another voice cut through the room.
“My sister is such a saint. So thoughtful and selfless.” There she was. Dahlia. Wearing a dress I once thought Reynold had bought for me.
She smiled sweetly as she approached him. Then she rushed the last steps and jumped into his arms, bumping a nearby vase.
It fell and shattered just like that.
I gasped. That vase was one of the Falcone family’s most prized heirlooms!
It was a wedding gift from Reynold’s father, etched with our names and joined hands. A symbol of unity between the Lombardi and Falcone.
I always kept it spotless. I planned to bring it with me. Even if my husband was cruel, his parents had once treated me with kindness.
But now it was completely shattered into pieces.
Reynold didn’t react. He didn’t even glance at it. If it meant nothing to him, why should I care?
“Are you hurt? Dahlia, I’m sorry,” he said instead.
He checked her arms for scratches. Apologizing to the very woman who broke it.
“Oops… sorry,” Dahlia murmured, glancing at me.
I swallowed and nodded.