Chapter 15: His World, Not Mine
397 Words
Monday came too fast.
Luca and I were closer than ever, but the world outside that closeness? Still sharp. Still watching.
Especially when he invited me to dinner at the Donovan estate.
“You don’t have to say yes,” he said that morning, brushing hair from my cheek. “But I want you there.”
I nodded, even as my stomach twisted.
The Donovan house was massive. Marble floors, cold lighting, rooms that echoed. It didn’t feel like a home—it felt like a statement.
His mother barely smiled when she greeted me. His father didn’t bother to shake my hand.
We sat at a long dining table. The food was plated like artwork. The silence was awkward.
“So, Emma,” his mother finally said, folding her napkin with perfect precision. “What are your plans after graduation?”
“I’m studying literature,” I said politely. “I want to write. Maybe teach.”
She blinked slowly, then smiled—tight and disinterested. “How nice.”
Luca’s jaw was tight. I reached under the table and touched his knee. He relaxed slightly.
They talked about travel, investments, people I didn’t know. I was a shadow at that table.
But the worst moment came when his father said, “You’ve had your fun, Luca. But you’ll need to start thinking about your future—real commitments.”
My heart sank. The message was clear.
I don’t belong.
After dinner, we sat in the garden, hidden by a tall hedge and silence.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was—”
“Awful,” I finished. “And expected.”
He looked at me then, eyes glassy. “I didn’t bring you here to hurt you. I brought you here because I needed you to see where I come from.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I said gently. “I saw enough.”
“But I need you to know,” he said, voice low, “I don’t want any part of their world. I just want you.”
I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Then stop trying to fit me into it,” I whispered.
And in that moment, I think he understood.
He wasn’t supposed to bring me into his world.
He was supposed to build a new one—with me.
- Writer
