Between The Lies

Chapter 19: The Breaking Point

CATHERINE

Sunday night, after the house has finally quieted down, Catherine finds Richard in their bedroom.

"We need to talk," she says quietly, closing the door behind her.

Richard looks up from his book. "About?"

"About Luca and Stella." Catherine sits on the edge of the bed. "Richard, I'm worried. Really worried."

"I know. I've noticed it too."

"It's more than just them avoiding each other now. Something happened while we were in Singapore. Something significant." Catherine's voice drops to barely a whisper. "I think they might have... feelings for each other."

Richard sets down his book. "Catherine—"

"Don't. Don't tell me I'm imagining it. I see the way they look at each other when they think no one's watching. The tension. The pain in both their eyes." She wraps her arms around herself. "What if they've already done something? What if they think they've committed some terrible sin when they're not even—"

"Keep your voice down," Richard warns, glancing at the door.

"They're not blood-related, Richard. Stella isn't Luca's biological sister. We took her in when she was a baby because Elena couldn't care for her, because her mother abandoned her. And we raised them as siblings, but they're not." Catherine's eyes fill with tears. "What if Elena was right? What if raising them together like this confused them?"

"We did what we thought was best at the time."

"Did we? Or did we do what was easiest?" Catherine shakes her head. "They deserve to know the truth. Before this destroys them both."

"And what happens when we tell them? Stella finds out her whole life is a lie? That we've been keeping this from her for seventeen years?" Richard's voice is firm but gentle. "Catherine, I know you're worried. I am too. But we can't just drop this on them. Not yet. Not when we don't even know if anything has actually happened between them."

"So we wait? We watch them suffer?"

"We wait until the time is right. Until we're sure. And if we find out something has happened, if they come to us..." Richard takes his wife's hand. "Then we'll tell them everything. But until then, we give them space to work through whatever this is."

Catherine nods slowly, wiping her eyes. "I just hope we're not making another mistake."

"So do I."

They sit in silence for a moment.

"The trip to San Francisco," Catherine says. "Are you sure we should go? Leave them alone for four days when things are this tense?"

"Maybe the time apart from us will help. Give them space to talk, to work things out." Richard squeezes her hand. "We'll be back Friday morning. Before Stella's recital. It'll be fine."

But neither of them sounds convinced.

STELLA

Monday morning, I'm at the breakfast table when Mom and Dad come downstairs with their suitcases.

"You're leaving today?" I ask.

"Conference in San Francisco," Dad says. "We'll be back Friday morning, in time for your recital Saturday."

"Will you two be okay here alone?" Mom asks, looking between me and Luca, who just walked in.

The tension is immediate.

"We'll be fine," Luca says flatly.

"We're not children," I add.

Mom doesn't look convinced. "I know you're not children. But you two have been... just please try to get along while we're gone. Talk to each other. Work through whatever's going on."

"There's nothing going on," I lie. "We're fine, Mom."

After they leave, the house falls into heavy silence.

Luca and I stand in the kitchen, the distance between us feeling like miles.

I grab my backpack. "I should get ready for school—"

"We need to talk," Luca says suddenly.

I turn to face him, forcing a small smile even though my stomach is in knots. "About what?"

"Thursday night."

My smile falters slightly. "I thought we already talked about it."

"No. We didn't. Not really." His expression is unreadable.

I set down my backpack slowly, that little smile still on my face even though something feels wrong. "Okay. So let's talk."

He doesn't move closer. Just stands there, jaw tight.

"I broke up with Derek," I say, trying to fill the silence. "You know that, right? After Thursday night, I ended things with him."

Luca takes a step back as I move toward him.

The movement stops me cold.

"What's the problem?" I ask, my smile fading.

"Stella, I don't love you."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I stare at him, certain I misheard. "What?"

"I don't love you. Not the way you think I do." His voice is flat. Cold. "And what happened Thursday night... it happened because you wouldn't let me leave."

Tears spring to my eyes instantly. "What are you talking about?"

"I was going to leave. Put you in bed and walk away. But you kept pulling me back. You wouldn't let go." He won't look at me. "So we had s*x. But it wasn't because I wanted to. It was because you wouldn't stop."

I move closer to him, my hand coming up fast.

The slap echoes through the kitchen.

He doesn't flinch. Just stands there, cheek reddening.

"Really?" My voice is shaking, tears streaming down my face. "You kept asking me if I was sure! You asked me over and over if I wanted this! And now you're pinning it on me? Saying I wouldn't let you leave?"

"Stella—"

"You're saying I forced you?" I push his chest. "That I made you do something you didn't want to do?"

"I'm saying it shouldn't have happened—"

"You kept asking if I was sure!" I push him again, harder. "Thursday night, you looked at me and asked if I was really sure about this! If I wanted you! And I said yes! I said yes because I thought you wanted me too!"

"I was trying to do the right thing—"

"By asking if I was sure and then blaming me later?" I'm sobbing now. "You're acting like I forced you! Like I wouldn't let you leave! But you stayed, Luca! You stayed and you touched me and you made love to me and now you're saying it's my fault?"

"I'm sorry—"

"I'm sorry?" I push him again. "That's all you have to say? I'm sorry?"

He takes a breath. "Our parents are finding out already. Mom and Dad—they know something's going on. We need to stop this before—"

"So that's what you care about?" I stare at him in disbelief. "Our parents finding out? That's why you're doing this?"

"No—"

"You never loved me," I say, the realization hitting me. "You were just... what? Curious? Bored? And now you're scared Mom and Dad will find out so you're making it my fault?"

"I'm trying to protect you—"

"Protect me?" I laugh bitterly. "You're destroying me! You're standing here telling me that Thursday night was my fault! That I wouldn't let you leave! That I forced you into something you didn't want!"

"That's not what I'm saying—"

"Yes, it is!" I shove him harder. "And you know what else? You weren't happy when I was dating Derek. You were jealous. I could see it. You didn't want me with him but you won't admit you wanted me for yourself!"

"I was trying to protect you as your brother—"

"As my brother?" I laugh through my tears. "Brothers don't do what you did Thursday night, Luca! Brothers don't make love to their sisters and then blame them for it!"

"Stella, please—"

"You're a liar!" I shove him one more time. "You're lying about everything! About not loving me! About me forcing you! About protecting me! You're just scared and you're taking it out on me!"

"I'm trying to do what's right—"

"What's right?" My voice breaks. "What's right would be being honest! Not making me feel like I'm some desperate girl who threw herself at you and wouldn't take no for an answer!"

I stare at him for a long moment, tears streaming down my face.

He won't even look at me.

"I hate you," I whisper.

Then I turn and run upstairs, his voice calling my name behind me.

I slam my bedroom door and lock it.

Collapse on my bed—the same bed where we made love—and sob into my pillow.

He doesn't love me.

He never did.

And he's making it seem like Thursday night was my fault. Like I forced him. Like I wouldn't let him leave.

But I remember that night. I remember him asking if I was sure. I remember the way he looked at me. The way he touched me.

He wanted it too. I know he did.

So why is he lying now? Why is he making me the villain?

Unless... unless he really does think it's my fault.

Unless he really did want to leave and I stopped him.

The thought makes me sick.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand but I don't look at it.

I don't want to talk to anyone. Don't want to see anyone.

I just want to disappear.

LUCA

I stand in the kitchen, alone, my cheek still stinging from where she hit me.

I can hear her crying upstairs and it's killing me.

But this is what I have to do. Push her away. Make her hate me.

It's the only way to protect her.

Even if she'll never forgive me.

Even if I'll never forgive myself.

I grab my keys and leave before I can change my mind.

Before I can run upstairs and tell her the truth—that I love her, that Thursday night meant everything, that I'm lying to protect us both.

I drive to Jake's apartment, my hands shaking on the wheel.

When he opens the door, he takes one look at my face and sighs.

"What did you do?"

"I told her I don't love her. That Thursday night happened because she wouldn't let me leave." My voice is hollow. "She slapped me. Called me a liar. Then ran upstairs crying."

"Jesus, Luca." Jake runs his hand over his face. "You really told her she forced you?"

"I had to. Mom and Dad are getting suspicious. If we don't end this now—"

"So you destroyed her instead?" Jake stares at me. "Man, you just made her think she assaulted you or something. That she wouldn't take no for an answer. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"

"I know—"

"No, you don't!" Jake's voice rises. "You just made the girl you love think she's some kind of predator! That she forced her own brother into something he didn't want!"

"It was the only way—"

"It was the cruelest way!" Jake shakes his head. "Luca, I've been supporting you through this, but this? This is too far. You can't do this to her."

"What choice do I have?" My voice breaks. "If our parents find out, if anyone finds out—we're both destroyed. At least this way, she can move on. She can hate me and forget about me and have a normal life—"

"While thinking she sexually coerced her brother?" Jake looks at me like he doesn't know me. "Yeah, that's definitely going to give her a normal life."

I sink onto his couch, putting my head in my hands.

"I don't know what else to do."

"You tell her the truth. You apologize. You explain that you were scared and said things you didn't mean." Jake sits beside me. "And then you figure out a real solution. Not this... whatever this is."

But I can't. Because telling her the truth means admitting I love her. Means opening that door again.

And I can't do that.

I won't.

Even if it means she'll hate me forever.

Even if it means I'll hate myself.

STELLA

I stay in my room all day.

Skip school. Ignore Maya's texts. Delete Derek's messages without reading them.

Around dinner time, there's a soft knock on my door.

"Stella?" Luca's voice. "I made food. It's downstairs if you want some."

I don't answer.

Silence. Then: "I'm sorry. For what I said. I didn't mean it the way it came out."

I still don't respond.

"Okay. I'll leave you alone."

His footsteps retreat down the hall.

I lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying his words over and over.

I don't love you.

You wouldn't let me leave.

Our parents are finding out.

He doesn't love me. He never did.

And I forced him. Made him stay when he wanted to go.

The thought makes me want to throw up.

But underneath the hurt and shame, there's anger.

Because I remember Thursday night. I remember him asking if I was sure, yes. But I also remember the way he looked at me. The way he touched me like I was precious. The way he whispered my name.

That wasn't someone being forced.

That was someone who wanted to be there.

So why is he lying now?

Unless... unless he really does regret it that much.

Unless being with me was such a mistake that he has to rewrite the entire night to make it bearable.

I grab my phone and text Mia

Can you come over tomorrow? I need to talk.

Her response is immediate.

Of course! You okay?

No. But I will be.

I have to be.

Because I have a recital in five days.

And after that, I'm leaving for New York for eight weeks.

Eight weeks away from Luca.

Eight weeks to forget about Thursday night.

Eight weeks to figure out how to stop loving someone who never loved me back.

To be continued...