Three weeks have passed since I walked out of Lucas's penthouse, three agonisingly long weeks. He texted, he called, and he sent me emails on a near-daily basis over the first week. He even showed up on the front doorstep every night, hammering on the sad old door. Chrissy had to deal with him each time, warning him to leave or she would contact the police and have him arrested for trespassing.
“I need to see her Chrissy.” He pleaded through the door.
“Give her time and space Luca” She always told him.
“I can’t. I need to see her.” The pain was evident in his voice.
“And she needs you to back off if you can’t love her Luca. Look I’m sorry. I was rooting for you, but she is my sister and until she agrees to see you I think it's best you just leave.” You can hear the sadness in
