He leaned back in his chair, pleased with himself, like he’d just won a quiet game. “You look surprised, Luca. You think I don’t know what’s going on in your life? That I don’t keep tabs?”
“…It’s not like that,” I muttered, eyes narrowing.
“No?” he asked, tilting his head. “Then what’s it like?”
I didn’t answer him.
I couldn’t.
Because the truth was—I didn’t know what it was either. I just knew that she mattered. That something about her mattered in a way I couldn’t explain. That all the bruises, the long nights, the exhaustion—they weren’t just about proving myself. They were about getting strong enough to walk beside her. And now she was in pain, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“She is not my girlfriend. Only a classmate,” I muttered as my knuckles purpled from gripping th
