Chapter 10 #2
“Can I come in?” she asked, her smile barely masking the tension as she peeked inside. I nodded, and she entered, shutting the door quietly behind her. She approached my bed and settled herself on the edge while I lay there, engrossed in a book.
“Luna, we need to talk,” she began, her voice tentative. “I can sense that you're upset with me, and I completely understand. I realize now that I've been neglecting our family, but it's only temporary. I love you more than anything.”
“Do you love Dad?” I shot back, my tone sharp. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Of course I do! What kind of question is that? I love you both so much. I hate this situation, this distance that seems to be growing between us. We used to be such a close family—talking and spending time together,” she recalled, her voice trailing off as memories surfaced.
“You're right. We used to be,” I retorted.
“Luna, I don't understand why you're so upset. I told you it's just a temporary situation. If it bothers you so much, I can leave Rome and return to work at the studio here. Would that make you happy?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Would you really do that?” I asked, my voice wavering.
“Of course, I would do anything for you.”
“And would you leave your boyfriend behind?” I asked, meeting her gaze directly, the words hanging heavy in the air.
My eyes brimmed with tears as I struggled to hold them back.
She gasped, her mouth falling open in disbelief, her eyes searching mine for clarity.
“I came to Rome to surprise you, just like you always wanted.
But instead, I discovered something I wish I hadn't. Mom, I saw you with another man.” My voice broke, and I curled up, burying my face in my knees as tears streamed down.
She stood there, speechless, and I looked at her, waiting for an apology. But her shock morphed into anger.
“I don't know what you think you saw, but you're mistaken,” she bit out, her teeth clenched.
“I know what I saw! You were kissing another man in the street. What about Dad? How could you do this to him?” My anger flared. She stood up, ready to storm out.
“I'm not having this conversation with you. You're wrong,” she asserted, turning towards the door.
“Mom?” I called, and she paused, slowly turning her head back to me.
“Don't lie to me. I can see the smoke in your eyes,” I said, my voice steady. Her lips quivered, and her dark eyes filled with tears. She didn't say a word as she walked out, closing the door behind her.
I echoed her words from my childhood, the ones she used to say to me. The fear of lying back then gripped me; I wondered if she could feel the same, if it might prompt her to speak honestly. I wondered what might have torn our family apart and when that fracture occurred.
I wished I was still a child and naive, wishing I could remain blissfully unaware, especially of her with that man.
If only we could return to the way things were before.
Ignorance would bring me more joy than the reality I was currently facing.
Yet, I knew that just because it would make me happier didn't mean it was the right path forward.
A few more days had gone by without a word between my mom and me, and I hadn't managed to catch Zane alone either.
In art lab, I was focused on finishing my project: a dress with a spherical skirt designed to look like an orange peel.
It allowed for easy sitting, and when you stood up, it puffed back into its round shape.
In two weeks, we'd have a little fashion show here at school, open to parents as well.
I was nearly finished; I just needed to complete the sleeves.
As usual, the classroom doors were open, and I spotted Zane walking by.
This was my moment. I quickly raised my hand and asked to be excused to the bathroom.
“Zane,” I called out softly, trying to steady my breathing as I reached for his arm from behind. He turned to me with a casual expression, not saying a word. He was wearing skinny dark blue jeans and a white hoodie that accentuated the contrast of his skin and honey-amber eyes.
“I need to talk to you,” I whispered.
“I'm not really in the mood for a chat right now,” he replied dismissively, starting to walk away.
“Did you leave a red envelope in my backpack?” I asked, my voice steady. He paused and looked back at me, an uncomfortable silence hanging between us. His gaze searched mine, as if weighing his response. I saw his hesitation.
“I thought you might like a photo of that room with your name all over the walls. Just as a keepsake,” he stated blandly. “And how did you know it was me?” he added.
“The handwriting on the back of the photo gave it away,” I answered, my curiosity piqued. “Why?” I couldn't help but ask.
“Why, what?” he replied, buying himself time.
“Why did you write my name? Why did you give me that photo?” I asked, my voice trembling as I braced myself for his response. He stepped closer, and I instinctively backed against the wall. He was closer than I'd anticipated, bending slightly to bring his face to mine.
His lips were parted, and I could feel his warm breath against my skin, my heart racing against my will. He was looking at me, truly looking at me.
His gaze seemed to pierce through me, sending a rush through my veins that ignited like fireworks on my lips, causing me to gasp in surprise.
It was an indescribable sensation, and I found myself tensing against the wall, waiting…
desperately trying to decipher the meaning in his eyes.
My heart thumped loudly, as if trying to escape.
Then, he leaned in closer to my right ear and whispered in a low voice, “Because I like you, you dummy.” A shiver coursed through me as he smiled and hurried away, leaving me drowning in his words.
What just happened? I was utterly disoriented. Why would he say something like that? Was this some sort of game? A bet he made with the others? What on earth? He was with Jessica and suddenly confessed that he had feelings for me? It was absurd.
I hurried to the restroom, splashing cold water on my hands, trying to cool my boiling blood and clear my head. Those words echoed in my mind like a broken record, refusing to fade. I couldn't find a way to calm down.
I loathed him and everyone else involved, yet there was an undeniable thrill in his confession that I couldn't shake. I felt like I was losing my grip on reality; everything was a chaotic blur in my mind.
I made my way back to class, and I must have looked like I'd seen a ghost. The scary part was that part of me was considering being hunted.