Rejected Three Times, I Married My Fiancé’s Godfather Uncle

Chapter 5

I leaned into his chest and asked again, "Luca, let's get married."

His body visibly stiffened. I looked up. "I'm not using my father's situation to pressure you. I'm just suddenly terrified. If something had really happened to him today, I would regret so many things. I don't want to regret us anymore."

Luca looked at me, his eyes filled with tenderness and struggle. He lowered his head and kissed my forehead. "I love you."

I said, "Then marry me."

His Adam's apple bobbed. It was still the same line as always, "Wait a little longer."

I smiled even as tears slid down my face.

Luca panicked and immediately wiped them away. "Don't cry, it's not that I don't want you. I'm just not ready yet. We're both so young; I haven't even stepped up to lead the family. I don't want to be called husband and father at twenty-seven, then spend the rest of my life buried under nothing but responsibility."

When he said this, as if afraid I would misunderstand, he held me even tighter. "But that person will definitely be you."

Once, those words would have meant everything. Now I only felt exhausted. That person would definitely be me. So the timing didn't matter. Because he had never thought that I would leave.

When I came out of the hospital room, Damian was leaning against the emergency exit smoking. Seeing me, he stubbed out the cigarette. He asked, "The second time?"

My eyes were still red. "Are you having me followed?"

"No need." He glanced at my bare ring finger. "The answer is written all over your face."

Irritated, I snapped, "Satisfied?"

Damian didn't smile. He simply raised his hand, his fingertip brushing the corner of my eye. I instinctively turned away, but even that slight touch burned. His hand stopped. "Crying like this, and you still think he's better than me?"

I said, "At least he wouldn't take advantage of me when I'm vulnerable."

Damian leaned down, very close to me. "Are you sure?"

His breath brushed past my ear, and my entire body tensed as if electrified. I hated him. I knew full well this man was dangerous, despicable, and had set his sights on me from our very first meeting. Yet my body had already learned his closeness before my mind could catch up. I took a step back, my back hitting the wall. Damian didn't close the distance.

He only said in a low voice, "You have one more."

The night of Luca's birthday, I hadn't planned on bringing up marriage again. But Luca booked the entire club. Though it was his birthday party, every detail catered to my preferences. The champagne was dry, and the band was the one I'd listened to most in college. He remembered all the little things. He seemed not to care, yet he nailed every detail.

His friends were getting tipsy when someone started teasing, "It's been six years, why aren't you two married yet?"

Luca laughed, his hand draped lazily over my shoulder. "What's the rush?"

His friend asked, "Aren't you afraid someone will steal her away?"

He tilted his head to look at me, pinching my chin with a touch so light it was like coaxing a cat. He said, "Her?" He smiled. "She's not going anywhere."

The people around us doubled over laughing, and I smiled too, but the smile never reached my eyes.

Later they talked about the new casino in Fairview, and someone egged him on to go wild one last time before tying the knot. Luca clinked glasses and said, "I'm only twenty-seven. Don't rush to plan my funeral."

Everyone laughed, but I stared at his profile, and the clarity hit me.

He hadn't betrayed me, hadn't flirted with anyone. But when he said funeral, I saw it clearly. In his heart, marriage was a prison sentence, the end of freedom, a life he hadn't lived wildly enough yet, locked down by a contract. And I was the one taken for granted, the one expected to wait forever outside the door until he was done playing and decided to come back.

I didn't know how the words slipped out, "Luca, will you marry me?"