Page 138 of Mine Again
And I didn’t exactly make it easy for him. There were times I pushed, trying to provoke a reaction by showing him exactly what he was missing.
Seeing what you desire, what you love, and knowing you can’t have it. Not for days. Not for weeks. For who knows how long. Pure torture.
I imagine standing in Luca’s place, dealing with my father’s demand, knowing he would auction me off like cattle to the highest bidder if I didn’t agree to his terms. If I had been the one forced to make that call… I would have done the same.
That realization knocks something loose in me. A knot of anger I’ve been holding onto since the moment he vanished starts to unwind.
The tightness in my chest eases a little. For the first time in years, I breathe like it doesn’t hurt to do so.
It isn’t forgiveness. Not yet.
But it’s something closeto understanding.
After my shower, I dress quickly. It’s kind of fun rummaging through a closet full of clothes I didn’t pick. It’s like unboxing a surprise curated just for me.
Luca chose well.
Soft fabrics. Simple lines. Dresses in cuts I naturally gravitate toward. He paid attention to what I like, to what makes me feel likeme. Everything is comfortable but still put-together, like something I would have chosen myself if I’d had the freedom.
And then there’s the lingerie. That, he definitely didn’t choose purely for comfort.
Delicate lace in colors that complement my skin, cut in ways that leave little to the imagination. Every piece is sensual without being loud, luxurious without being showy. He didn’t just pick what he thought looked good. He picked what would make me feel beautiful… and his alone.
It makes me strangely vulnerable, exposed in a way I hadn’t expected. His thoughtfulness reaches deeper than I’m ready for, brushing against places that haven’t been touched in five years.
Not wanting to get all sappy, I pull on a pair of warm leggings, thick socks, and a soft long-sleeved cotton dress. I twist my damp hair into a loose braid and head out in search of Luca.
I need answers. And coffee. Not necessarily in that order.
Too much has been left unsaid, and I’m done sitting in silence. I don’t know what I’ll say when I find him. I only know I need to.
When I ran from the bedroom yesterday, I barely noticed anything around me. My only focus was finding the front door.
Was that really only a day ago?
So much has happened… no, that’s not true. Not much has actually happened, but a lot has been revealed.
It seems like years have passed, and in a way, they have.
In the light of a new day and feeling more emotionally grounded, I’m eager to explore.
I walk down the hallway. It opens into a wide, airy living space filled with natural light. Floor-to-ceiling windows let the morning pour inlike gold, brightening everything it touches.
Hmm. The weather seems happier today too. The heavy gray clouds are a thing of the past. Let’s hope it stays that way for a while.
I keep going, taking it all in. The walls are whitewashed stone, softened with pale linen curtains and warm timber beams overhead. A leather couch, oversized armchairs, and a chunky coffee table stacked with books anchor the lounge area. Everything is open, breezy, and calm.
It feels lived-in, comfortable, and strangely inviting.
It reminds me of something. Ofus.
Of the little cottage on Luca’s parents’ vineyard, our hideaway, where we used to meet in secret. That airy, open space tucked between rows of grapevines, where the world was far away and time always seemed to slow.
This house is its grown-up twin; larger, more refined, but echoing the same warmth, the same quiet intimacy.
Only now, the furniture is more expensive, the walls more polished, the edges a little sharper. Like him.
And just like back then, I feel safe here… even with everything between us still fractured.
