Their Unattainable Desire

Their Unattainable Desire

Their Unattainable Desire

The courtroom was cold.

Aria sat with her hands clenched in her lap, staring at the judge like if she looked hard enough she could burn the order into nothing. It didn’t work.

“Effective August 1st, Aria Calloway and Luca Moretti will jointly manage all shared assets,” the judge said. “For six months. No exceptions.”

Aria didn’t look at Luca. If she did, she’d say something she couldn’t take back.

Six months with him.

Six months pretending ten years of hate didn’t exist.

Six months trying not to remember what it felt like to hold his hand when they were fifteen.

She signed the papers without reading them twice.

Outside, the August heat hit her like a slap. Luca was waiting by the steps, arms crossed, looking infuriatingly calm.

“This is stupid,” Aria said as she walked past him.

“Yeah,” Luca agreed. “But it’s the only thing keeping us both from losing everything.”

She stopped. “Don’t pretend you care about that.”

“I do care,” he said quietly. “I care about you, Aria. Even if you hate me for it.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

---

The first week was hell.

They met at the old house every morning at 8 AM because the court order said “joint management” and “daily coordination.” Neither of them spoke unless it was necessary.

“Sign here.”

“Meeting at 2.”

“Don’t touch that.”

Luca had changed. He was taller, broader, his hands rougher than she remembered from when he’d played piano and hated getting dirt under his nails. He moved like someone who’d spent years fixing things with his own hands, not just signing checks.

She hated noticing.

On day four, he showed up with coffee. Her coffee. Black, two sugars, the way she drank it when she was too tired to sleep.

“I didn’t ask for that,” she said.

“I know,” Luca replied. “Drink it anyway.”

She drank it.

He didn’t say I told you so when she didn’t complain.

---

It started to get worse before it got better.

Old fights resurfaced over nothing.

“You’re micromanaging,” she snapped when he rearranged her notes on the kitchen table.

“You’re avoiding me,” he shot back.

“I’m avoiding a mistake.”

Luca went quiet at that. For a long time he just looked at her, and she saw the same frustration she felt.

“Do you think about it?” he asked suddenly.

“Think about what?”

“Us. Before. Before everything went to shit.”

Aria set her pen down hard. “No.”

“Liar.”

She stood up. “I’m not doing this, Luca.”

“Why not?” He stood too, closing the distance between them. “Because it hurts? Because you still feel it?”

“Because it doesn’t matter!” Her voice cracked. “We’re not fifteen anymore. We’re adults with a court order and a mess we have to clean up.”

“So we clean it up together,” he said. “And maybe we figure out the rest after.”

She wanted to tell him no. To walk out and never see him again.

But she didn’t.

---

The turning point was stupid and small.

It rained on day twelve. Hard. The kind of rain that made the old house creak and the power flicker.

Aria was stuck there with him because the roads were flooded and the court order said neither of them could leave without the other present for “emergency decisions.”

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, not talking, listening to the storm.

“You still play?” Luca asked out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Piano. You used to play every night after dinner. Your mom said it kept you calm.”

Aria blinked. She hadn’t thought about that in years.

“No,” she said. “No time.”

Luca stood up and walked to the old upright piano in the corner. It was out of tune, covered in dust.

He sat down and played.

It was messy, a little wrong, but it was the song she used to hum when she was stressed. The one he’d learned to play just to annoy her when they were kids.

Aria laughed before she could stop herself.

“Stop it,” she said, but she was smiling.

“You remember,” Luca said, not stopping.

“I hate that I do.”

He finished the song and turned to look at her.

“I missed you,” he said simply.

Aria didn’t know what to say to that. So she said nothing.

But she didn’t leave the room either.

---

After that, things shifted.

They still fought. They were too stubborn not to. But the fights stopped being about the past and started being about now.

About how Luca stayed up late to finish paperwork she’d been dreading.

About how Aria brought him dinner when he was working too late to notice time.

About how they started sitting closer, talking longer, laughing at things that weren’t even funny.

On day thirty, Luca kissed her.

It wasn’t planned. They were arguing about something dumb in the kitchen, and he just stopped mid-sentence and kissed her like he’d been holding it in for years.

Aria kissed back before her brain caught up.

When they pulled apart, both of them were breathing hard.

“We can’t do this,” Aria whispered.

“I know,” Luca said. “But I don’t want to stop.”

She should have walked away. She should have reminded him about the lawsuit, about their families, about why this was a bad idea.

Instead she said, “One month. Then we talk.”

“One month,” Luca agreed.

---

One month turned into two.

Two months of late nights, stolen kisses, conversations that lasted until 3 AM.

They didn’t tell anyone. Not Mateo, not their lawyers, not the court. It felt too fragile for the outside world.

Aria started sleeping better for the first time in years.

Luca stopped checking his phone every five minutes like he was waiting for something worse to happen.

They fell in love slowly, and all at once.

It was terrifying.

On day sixty, Aria found Luca sitting on the back porch at midnight, staring at the sky.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.

“No,” he said. “I keep thinking about what happens after six months.”

Aria sat down beside him.

“Then we decide,” she said.

“And if our families find out?”

“Then they deal with it,” she said. “I’m tired of living for them, Luca. I want to live for us.”

He looked at her like she’d just given him something he’d been begging for without knowing it.

“I love you,” he said.

Aria’s chest tightened.

“I love you too,” she replied.

She’d been holding those words back for ten years. Saying them out loud felt like breathing for the first time.

---

The last month was the hardest.

The court date was coming. The six months were ending.

They had to decide what came next.

Aria’s lawyer told her to cut ties. “You don’t need him anymore. File for full control. It’s clean.”

Luca’s lawyer said the same thing.

Neither of them listened.

On the last day, they walked into the courtroom together, hand in hand.

The judge looked surprised.

“We’re submitting a joint request,” Luca said. “We want to continue managing the assets together. Indefinitely.”

The room went quiet.

Aria’s heart was pounding, but she didn’t let go of his hand.

“Is this mutual?” the judge asked.

“Yes,” Aria said.

The judge sighed, then nodded. “Granted. But if there’s another dispute, I’m selling it. Understood?”

“Understood,” they said in unison.

Walking out of that courtroom felt different this time. Lighter.

No one from their families was waiting outside.

Just them.

Luca turned to her, grinning like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“So,” he said. “What now?”

Aria smiled back.

“Now we figure it out,” she said. “Together.”

He kissed her right there on the courthouse steps, and for the first time in ten years, it didn’t feel forbidden.

It felt like coming home.