No More 52nd Wedding

I've been in a three-year relationship with Antonio Bianco, the successor of the Bianco family. Everyone knows very well how much he loves me.

But everything has changed the moment Antonio's older brother passes away, leaving behind his newly-widowed wife, Rosetta Serra, who's also pregnant.

Antonio heeds Augusto Bianco's last wish by taking great care of Rosetta. He even ditches me at the altar numerous times for her sake.

On our 51st wedding, Antonio still ends up leaving with Rosetta, who keeps crying her heart out.

I just gaze at the way Antonio scrambles to come up with a new excuse. I notice how skillfully the wedding planning company is cleaning up the wedding venue in advance. I also spot the flash of a provocative smile Rosetta has shown to me behind Antonio's back as she links arms with him.

Suddenly, I feel like a total joke for being with such a man over the past three years.

When the hotel manager gives me the bill, he asks casually, "When will the 52nd wedding be held, Ms. Marino? We can make the preparations in advance."

"There's no need for a wedding anymore," I respond with a smile. "Even if a wedding is to be held, the groom won't be the same person anyway."

After leaving the hotel, I dial the number of the person in charge of the International Medical Organization.

"Hello, I'm Cecilia Marino. I'd like to accept your invitation to join your organization, and I can leave anytime soon."

Cecilia Marino's POV

For the three years I was with Antonio Bianco, I had always believed I held a special place in his heart.

That belief shattered when his older brother, Augusto Bianco, was gunned down by a rival famiglia. With his dying breath, Augusto begged Antonio to look after his wife, Rosetta Serra.

Since that day, I was no longer the only woman he cared about.

We had attempted to hold our wedding 50 times, yet Antonio had never managed to see a single one through to the end.

He would furrow his brow whenever he saw Rosetta's name flash on his phone, yet without fail, he would answer in a gentle voice, listening patiently to whatever she had to say.

In the end, he would pull me into an apologetic embrace and tell me that some "urgent famiglia business" required his immediate attention. After all, he would say, we would always have another chance.

In his eyes, I always seemed less important than the guilt he carried for Augusto.

But the love we shared for those three years hadn't felt like a lie. So, I chose to believe.

For the 51st time, I stood before him in my white veil, waiting for the moment he would finally slide the ring onto my finger.

Suddenly, Rosetta appeared at the wedding venue, her face pale, clutching a handkerchief to her chest with tears in her eyes.

"Antonio, something happened at the docks Augusto left for me. The elders are