The pictures are still there. On my bed. Staring back at me like ghosts. I made a huge mistake.
They feel like proof of something I’ve been trying not to admit. Luca knew everything about me. Everything. Before I even met him. Before I even knew he existed.
It has all been his plan all along, he crafted it perfectly, he knew what he wanted, he got me where he needed me and here I am thinking he is a kind man
Me—when I was just a little girl, smiling like the world wasn’t out to get me.
I sit at the edge of the bed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. I thought I could handle this. I told myself I would stay, play his game, act like I was fine.
This is too much, I can’t handle it even if I wanted to.
He didn’t just buy me.
He watched me before I even got here.
The dinners. The softness. The way he looked at me like I was something fragile. It all starts to look different now. All of it feels like a trick. A carefully written lie, I know I was pretending but at some point, I enjoyed it, I cared for it because no one has done that for me, not even Conrad
"I just want to talk."
"How do you know my mom." I whispered, my voice so low when I stared at the door, I can’t tell him I found this, he would never let me leave if he knows, he would never trust me again if he knows.
I keep staring at the floor. My chest rises and falls too fast, and my hands won’t stop shaking.
"I should’ve told you. I just—" he pauses, voice low. "Open the door. Please." He asked, when I didn’t hear anything anymore. "I will let you be for a while, you have all night but by tomorrow we are having a conversation."
Because if I do, I’ll forget why I’m angry. I’ll fall again. I always do.
And I can’t afford to fall anymore.
His footsteps fade down the hallway, and only then do I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
The room is too cold. Too quiet. Too full of secrets.
I sit there, frozen in place, until it hits me.
Not when I feel like a prisoner in my own body. Not when I don’t even know who Luca really is, I thought I did and I thought was subtle, now I feel he realized my plan all along. To pretend to be good and he saw through it, he realized that no matter what I did, I will still fall for him and he is right.
This isn’t protection. It’s control.
And I won’t let him have that over me.
What was I thinking, creating a plan so I will figure this out especially when I am hurting, he just reminded me of the fact that, my husband didn’t care for me, Conrad didn’t do any of the things he did and he could have done that, he reminded me of the mistake of my past and what I deserved.
Luca knows me even more than Conrad ever did, he has information that I never told Conrad, I never spoke about my family to him, mostly because I wnated to forget, when she died, I didn’t tell him, because he would not understand and I knew going to her funeral would only spark drama.
I shook off the thoughts when I shove the photos back into the envelope, my hands trembling. I take one last look at the picture of me and my mother.
"I’m sorry," I whisper.
Then I tuck it into my sweater and move toward the door.
Before he finds a new way to break me.