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I pull my hand away before his warmth can seep into my skin. “Nothing.”
Lucca gives me a sideways look but doesn’t push me any further.
The next thirty minutes are spent pretending I am fine while I watch my parents act like Lucca is my boyfriend, and they are the doting parents approving of him being just that.
“You were right, Lucca, everything is delicious here.” The more my mom talks about how great everything is, the bitter taste in my mouth grows. Unfortunately, she is talking a lot, probably because of the expensive wine she has been drinking.
“I wish Carter was here,” I blurt out, knowing that it will agitate the hell out of Lucca. Just as I hoped, his whole body goes rigid next to me, and he white knuckles the fork.
“Why would you need Carter if you have Lucca here?” My mom giggles and takes another sip of her wine.
“He is my friend, and I miss him.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have left for so long. No one stopped you from calling him,” Lucca tells me, annoyance lacing his voice.
“You stopped me. You stopped me from contacting anyone because I knew as soon as I did, they would tell you where I was.”
“And what’s so bad about that? Lucca only wants what’s best for you,” my father explains. “The same goes for us. We only want to keep you safe. We want you to be happy. That’s what every parent wants—”
“You are not my parents!” I lash out, making my mom flinch like I slapped her. I want to feel sorry, want to apologize, but the anger boiling inside of me won’t let me. They hurt me, and now it’s my turn to hurt them.
“Claire, you don’t mean that.” Lucca reaches for me, but I recoil from his touch.
“I mean it. They are not my parents, and you are not my boyfriend, so let’s not pretend we are.” I get up from my chair. “Thanks for dinner, but I’m leaving.”
Without saying goodbye, I walk away from the table and out of the room. I don’t need to hear Lucca’s footsteps behind me to know he is there. I would prefer to walk out of here on my own, but it’s not like I have a car or a place to stay.
I have nothing. I completely depend on Lucca, and I’ve never hated that more than in this moment.
I don’t stop walking until I’m standing in front of the restaurant and don’t know where else to go. Lucca comes up beside me, but I don’t look at him. Silently, we walk to the car, where he opens the door for me. I get in, mumbling a thanks out of politeness.
Just as he gets into the driver’s seat, his phone rings. I watch him retrieve it from his pocket and frown at the screen. As soon as I see his expression, I know something is wrong.
Can this night get any worse?
40
Lucca
Tonight wasn’t supposed to end like this. After dinner, we were supposed to head home, and spend all evening together, tangled in one another’s arms.
“What’s going on? Who called you?” Claire asks with fervor.
My mood dove straight off a cliff when I saw Julian’s name flash across the screen of my phone. The need to punch something just to punch it pulsed through my veins.
The last thing I want to do is expose Claire to more darkness, to carry her into the pitch black with me, but I’m not given a choice tonight. If I don’t do this job right now, then I might as well sell the house and take Claire back to that piece of shit apartment. To let Julian down wasn’t an option. He barely trusts me now, and I know I must work my way back up the ladder.
I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.
“Hello? What’s going on, Lucca?” Claire presses for an answer once more, and I slow and turn down an alleyway. “Was it your girlfriend? Is something wrong with her?”
Girlfriend?
“What the hell are you talking about?” I’m seriously confused by her question.
“I know, Lucca. I saw the note… the letter you wrote and left in the kitchen drawer. I read it. I know you’re in love with someone else.”
Christ.
“Fuck, Claire. Is that why you left?” Her silence is more than enough to answer that question, and I can’t believe I’ve been this stupid. How could I forget about that fucking letter? Everything is making sense now. Why she left, why she suddenly pushed me away. I figured it was because I took her roughly that night, skipping the roses and sunshine when I should have known there was more to it.
“Claire, listen to me.” Just as I stop at a red light, I grab her arm and force her to face me. I need her to get every single word of what I’m about to say. “I wrote that letter to push you away, to make you hate me because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. But I couldn’t go through with it, so I never gave it to you. Nothing you read on that piece of paper is true. There is no one else, only you. You are the only person I have ever loved.”
