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Laca sat beside me, his presence calm, controlled, like the weight of the entire family rested on his shoulders without ever cracking him. With that same quiet authority, he murmured, “It won’t last. you know. This storm will pass.”
His scent–leather, smoke, and something darker, something dangerous–hung in the air between us. It didn’t agitate me like I expected; instead, it steadied the wild beat of my heart, calming the storm inside me. I hated that it worked, but it did.
“Why are you here, Luca?” I asked, my voice still heavy with sleep.
He didn’t answer immediately, just watched me, his dark eyes inscrutable, giving nothing away. The silence stretched. between us, thick and charged. Then finally, he sighed, as if the weight of everything had settled in his chest, “I m
sorry.
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I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
He leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. “Since I was young, my father drilled it into me–Isobel was always to be protected, no matter what.”
I said nothing, and he continued, voice steady but weighted with a story I never thought I’d hear. “Years ago, my father and Isobel’s father were… tight. They controlled half of the city between them. And back then, my mother and hers were part of that, attending events, galas, keeping up appearances while deals were struck in the shadows. One night, my mother–pregnant with me–fell ill at one of those events. No one wanted to leave the
party, no one wanted the attention. But Isobel‘ s mother, she didn’t hesitate.”
He paused, eyes flickering for a second as if reliving it. “She got my mother out of there, drove her to a doctor herself. My mother barely made it in time. But Isobel’s mother… she went into early
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labor from the stress. Isobel was born too soon–she barely survived.”
He shook his head. “My father… he always told me that our family owed them for that. He made it clear that I had a debt, and that debt was Isobel. I was supposed to keep her safe. No questions.”
I turned to him, feeling my throat tighten as he spoke. But Luca’s gaze never wavered. “But don‘ t mistake that for something it’s not. I’m loyal to her because I was raised to be. But that‘ s where it ends. Elena, I chose you. I still
do.”
His voice was controlled, but there was something sharp beneath it, a restrained intensity that only came out when he was dead serious. I could feel the tension
between us, palpable, but I wasn’t convinced–not by a long shot.
I turned away from Luca, trying to ignore. the knot forming in my throat as his words echoed in my mind. He said he chose me,
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that he always had, but why did it feel like those words meant nothing anymore? Why did it feel like it was too late for those
promises? I could feel his eyes on me, unwavering, as if his steady gaze could somehow convince me of the truth in his words, but I wasn’t buying it. Not this time.
For months–no, years–I’d been left in the dark, watching from the sidelines as Isobel hovered around him like a ghost that wouldn’t let go. Always there, always in the background, always just a little too close. He never pushed her away, never drew a line. He let her stay. I waited. I watched. I tolerated the late nights, the meetings that weren’t just business, the excuses that never really made sense.
And now, now he wants to tell me that it was always me? That he chose me from the
start? How convenient. How neat and clean
that sounds now, when everything‘ s already broken beyond repair. He chose me, but not before he let Isobel cling to
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him, not before he let her walk through our life as if she had a right to.
He let her invade every corner of what should have been ours. And I God, I was such a fool, I convinced myself that he would eventually set things straight, that he’d draw a line, that he’d shut her out. But he never did. He let her in deeper. And I just stood by, pretending it didn’t hurt, pretending, I could handle it.
But now, hearing those words I chose you -it felt like a mockery of everything I’d endured. How was I supposed to believe it, when every action up until this moment told me otherwise? How was supposed to
I
trust that he ever truly had me in mind
when he spent all this time making sure
d
Isobel stayed at the center of his world?
The truth was, Luca had always been more committed to his sense of duty than to me. His loyalty to Isobel, his sense of obligation it outweighed everything else. I could see that now. I could see that it wasn’t just
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out a choice between me and her.
It was about the life he’d been conditioned to lead, the lines drawn by family, by blood, by debts that ran so deep they could never be repaid.
And maybe he thought he was doing the right thing, keeping her close, fulfilling some unspoken promise. But in doing so, he lost me. Bit by bit, piece by piece, until there was nothing left for him to choose
anymore.
I was too late now. Too late to tell me that he’d chosen me, when he’d never shown it when it mattered. Words were easy. Anyone could say I chose you–but where were those words when I was
waiting for him to come home? When I was left wondering if this would be the night he finally decided to put me first? Where was his choice then? Where was I when he stood by her side at every event, every meeting, every moment that should have been ours?
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The truth stung, sharper than any of his words. Luca had always been a man bound by loyalty, by duty. And I was foolish
enough to believe that I could come first in a world that would never allow it. He could say it now, say that I was his choice, but all I could feel was the hollowness of a
promise made far too late.
And now, standing here, with him watching me like those words could somehow fix everything. I knew it was over. It had been over long before he uttered those words.
The damage had already been done. Too many cracks had formed, too many moments where I’d been left behind, overshadowed by the obligations he could never shake. And as much as it hurt. I wasn’t willing to be second anymore. Not
to her, not to anyone.
His words meant nothing now.
Too bad. Luca, I thought bitterly. Your reasons don‘ t change the truth.
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