CHAPTER 5

Duke's jaw tightened as he watched Selene smile politely at Connor.

His stomach twisted as he observed the confident way Connor leaned in ever so slightly while talking to her as if their conversation was meant to be something private. Even worse, Connor held a bouquet of roses—fresh, expensive ones, the kind you wouldn’t just buy on a whim.

Duke frowned deeper.

Connor wasn’t just interested—he was persistent. He had been chasing Selene for months despite knowing she was already in a relationship. This wasn’t some harmless admiration; it was intentional. The guy had money, charm, and the audacity to think he had a chance.

Before Selene could notice the irritation on Duke’s face, he waved at her.

Her eyes widened in surprise upon spotting him, and she quickly said goodbye to Connor before rushing over.

Duke wasted no time. He reached for the flowers in her hand and, without a second thought, placed them on a nearby bench as they walked.

Duke's jealousy simmered as he walked beside Selene, his mind replaying the scene with Connor.

The way Connor had leaned in, the confident smirk on his face—it was enough to make Duke's blood boil.

"Why do you even talk to him?" Duke asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

Selene sighed, clearly annoyed.

"I told you, it’s for a project. What do you want me to do? Ignore him and fail the assignment?"

Duke stopped walking, forcing her to turn back to him.

"You could’ve asked the teacher to switch partners."

Selene rolled her eyes.

"Oh, sure. Let me just tell the teacher, ‘Sorry, I can’t work with Connor because my boyfriend gets jealous.’ That’ll go over well."

Duke frowned, his frustration bubbling over.

"You don’t get it. He’s not just some random guy. He’s been chasing you for months, and he doesn’t care that you’re with me. He’s disrespectful."

Selene crossed her arms, her patience wearing thin.

"And you think I don’t know that? Do you think I like him? Duke, I chose you. Why are you acting like I’m going to run off with him?"

Duke hesitated, his anger faltering as he saw the hurt in her eyes.

"It’s not about you. It’s about him. He thinks he can win you over, and it drives me crazy."

Selene shook her head, her voice softening.

"Duke, I don’t care what he thinks. I care about what you think. And right now, you’re making me feel like you don’t trust me."

Duke sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I trust you. I just… I don’t trust him."

Selene stepped closer, her expression serious.

"Then trust me to handle it. I’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving. I can deal with Connor, okay?"

Duke nodded reluctantly, his jealousy still lingering but his heart softening.

"I’m sorry. I just hate seeing him around you."

Selene smiled faintly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

"I know. But you don’t have to worry. You’re the one I want."

Duke smiled back, feeling a little more at ease.

"Good. Because if he tries anything, I might just—"

"Punch him in the face?" Selene interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

Duke chuckled. "Maybe."

Selene laughed, shaking her head.

"You’re ridiculous."

Duke grinned, pulling her into a quick hug. "Ridiculous about you."

Selene rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away.

"Come on, let’s go home before you start planning a boxing match, Connor."

Duke laughed, feeling the tension finally ease as they continued walking.

As soon as they entered Selene’s house, she quickly stepped behind the curtain that served as a divider for her sleeping area, leaving Duke standing in the small living space. He glanced around, taking in the familiar sight—the modest setup that Selene had long learned to make comfortable despite its limitations.

“Why are you home so early?” she asked from behind the curtain, her voice slightly muffled as she changed into more comfortable clothes.

“Our professor wasn’t around for the last subject,” Duke replied, keeping his back turned.

He absentmindedly tidied up the scattered items on the small table, stacking old notebooks and gathering empty glasses.

He was a young man, and like any man his age, certain thoughts crept in when moments like this arose. But he had always been mindful of boundaries, knowing when to hold himself back.

“Hmp! You better not be slacking off in school. You need to graduate,” Selene called out, her voice tinged with the familiar playfulness that often danced between them.

When he noticed she was done changing, he walked over, offering her a teasing smile before cupping her face and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

Tenderness quickly shifted into something more eager, but just as he started deepening the kiss, Selene pulled away with a knowing smirk.

This was something he had always admired about her—her unwavering self-discipline.

Selene carried herself with grace, dressing modestly and maintaining a sense of propriety that stood out among many young women their age.

She never gave in to fleeting whims or peer pressure, always choosing what she felt was right for herself.

“I’m heading home. Want to come with me?” Duke asked, adjusting his bag strap.

Selene shook her head.

“I still have a lot of dishes to wash. I was in a rush earlier, and Alliyah left early today. She usually gets home late,” she explained, referring to her cousin. “I’ll follow later.”

Duke nodded. He appreciated how responsible Selene was, always making sure things were in order before stepping out.

Just as he spent a lot of time at Selene’s house, Selene frequently visited his home as well.

His mother had always adored Selene, which was something he never took for granted.

He headed home, the familiar neighborhood streets guiding his way as the sun dipped lower in the sky. When he arrived, he found his mother busy in the kitchen, stirring a pot while humming softly. The comforting scent of dinner filled the house.

“Hi, Ma!” he greeted cheerfully, stepping forward to kiss the back of her hand in respect.

He placed his things on a nearby monoblock chair.

“Hmmm… You’re home early,” his mother observed, glancing at him briefly before returning her attention to the simmering pot.

“Our professor didn’t show up for the last class,” he explained, leaning against the kitchen counter.

He stepped into his room to change into more comfortable clothes. Their house had only two bedrooms—one was his, and the other belonged to his parents. He had no siblings, as Mama Rosalia had suffered multiple miscarriages, leaving him as their only child.

“How’s school, son?” his mother asked, settling beside him on the long monoblock bench.

“It’s going fine, Ma. Graduation is coming up soon. I’ll need to pay my tuition f*e,” he reminded her.

His mother sighed, her face soft with concern.

“Your father said he’d take out a loan from his office. Hopefully, he’ll have the money by tonight,” she assured him.

Duke nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. He hated that his parents had to take on the financial burden just to ensure he could finish school.

“It’s alright, Ma. Once I graduate, I’ll find a job right away so I can help Papa,” he said earnestly.

His mother placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t stress too much about it, anak. We’ll get through this, as we always do.”

Duke sighed, leaning back against the chair, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

“I know, Ma. I just really want to ease things for you and Papa.”

His mother smiled warmly, brushing stray strands of hair from his forehead like she had always done when he was younger.

“You will, in time. Just focus on finishing school. Everything else will follow.”

There was something he wanted to say, but he chose to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to speak up, afraid it might come across the wrong way to his mother and only end up hurting her feelings.