Chapter 3

The next morning, I found Luca still waiting outside my door. The moment he heard it open, he straightened up.

"They were all just joking around in the group chat. Viola was only helping out. The final decision about the wedding is still yours."

He picked up the jewelry box again and held it out to me.

In the past, he'd promised that once things settled down with the family, he'd take me to choose my wedding dress. I'd believed him, setting aside time for it every year as our anniversary approached.

The first year, he was too busy to make time for it. The second year, Viola's father had just died, making it an inappropriate time for a wedding celebration.

Eventually, I stopped asking. It seemed he'd forgotten about the promise, too.

Now, the wedding dress had already been chosen, but it was a style Viola had picked out.

"Just leave it there. I'm heading out."

Luca reached out to stop me, then slowly lowered his hand.

"I know you're upset with her. I'll be more careful from now on, but I can tell you one thing—I've never loved her."

I knew he wasn't lying, as I had seen the love he had for me.

When I graduated, he stood outside the auditorium with a bouquet in his arms, waiting for me for two whole hours like any ordinary man in love. In the photos from that day, he stood among the crowd with his eyes fixed solely on me.

"I've never doubted your relationship with Viola. But she's too important to you. So important that there's no room left for me."

"She's been spoiled and temperamental since she was a little girl. She'll grow out of it eventually," Luca explained, reaching over to gently tuck a few stray strands of hair back into my scarf.

His touch was light, just as it had always been.

"You don't have to compete with her."

I sighed. In the end, I simply couldn't be bothered to argue anymore.

He followed me downstairs and insisted on driving me to meet my mentor.

"Your hands are still so cold."

Along the way, he talked about the arrangements he'd made for our return to Sicavella and even had someone reserve a table at a restaurant I'd loved in the past.

I listened quietly, never interrupting.

Just as we approached the bridge, Viola called.

The moment Luca answered, her petulant voice filled the car.

"Luca, why are you still in Lunavere? Did you forget what we had planned for today?"

"I didn't forget," he assured her.

"Then why aren't you back yet? The yacht is already at the marina! I told you I wanted you to join me for its maiden voyage. I don't want anyone else there with me!"

Luca glanced at me before explaining, "I'm taking Elena where she needs to go first. I'll be back a little later."

"Her again!" Viola's voice shot up an octave. "Doesn't she have a driver? You promised me! I've already invited all my friends, and now you want me to stand at the marina waiting all alone?"

"Viola," he warned.

"Why are you getting mad at me? The yacht is named after my father, after all! I don't care what you have to do. You're coming with me. Get to the airport now!"

Silence settled over the car.

Luca was sitting right beside me, yet his silence told me everything I needed to know.

I took one last, lingering look at him before asking the driver to pull over.

"I can get a car here. I'll make my own way."

"She's just throwing a tantrum. You don't need to get out," he said.

Viola was still urging him to hurry through the phone.

All Luca had to do was hang up and tell the driver to keep going. We were only a few minutes from our destination, after all.

But instead, he looked away from me and got out of the car.

Once again, when forced to choose between me and that woman's tears, he abandoned me.

"I'll have the driver take you to your destination. I'll get another car to the airport and come find you tonight."

The last faint flicker of hope in my chest finally went out.

"Are you angry again?"

I shook my head gently.

"Go. She's waiting for you."

He stood there without moving, as though he wasn't used to seeing me give in so easily.

I watched as the car pulled farther away from him.

In the past, whenever something like this happened, I'd send him long messages asking why he kept leaving me behind.

Eventually, I had no choice but to accept the truth.

On Luca Valentino's scales, neither the eight years of my youth I'd given him nor even my own life could ever earn me a single unwavering choice in my favor.

But now, five days remained until I would finally be free of them all.