Chapter 30
A knock echoed through the classroom.
“Come in!” Mrs. Davies called out. The door swung open, and a secretary walked in, instantly capturing the attention of every student.
“Excuse me, but Ms. Bernardi's uncle is here to pick her up due to a family matter,” the secretary announced. All eyes shifted towards me.
“Your uncle?” Emily murmured, trying to recall who that might be.
I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me, reminiscent of the first day when the secretary led me to the principal's office. Why would Uncle Gabriel be sent to get me? What was going on?
I hurriedly gathered my belongings and stepped outside, following Clous’s mother, finally recognizing her resemblance to him. My mind raced with questions; it was only second period—what could possibly be wrong?
After navigating through a maze of stairs and hallways, we finally arrived at the entrance.
My heart raced as I spotted a young man standing there, perhaps in his mid-twenties, dressed sharply in a dress shirt and tie.
He greeted me with a warm smile and unexpectedly reached out for a hug.
I hesitated, but he whispered something in my ear that I couldn't ignore.
“Hello, my favorite niece,” he said, glancing at the secretary who observed us closely.
“I apologize for pulling her out of school, but we have urgent family matters to attend to,” he stated, his tone professional.
The secretary nodded and departed. The young man turned to me, giving a playful wink as he gestured for me to follow him outside.
“Where are we going?” I asked, lowering my voice to ensure no one overheard us.
“I already told you,” he replied, not elaborating further.
Trusting him, I trailed behind until we reached a sleek black car with tinted windows.
He opened the back door and invited me inside.
My heart raced like a runaway train with a mix of excitement and nerves.
Inside, Zane lounged, wearing sunglasses and a smirk.
“Get in, dummy. We don't have all day,” he said, motioning for me to join him. The young man settled into the driver's seat and started the engine. “How did you agree to leave school with this dude? Didn't your mom teach you about strangers?” Zane teased, chuckling.
“He said you sent him,” I replied, feeling a bit sheepish.
“I'm Mic, by the way,” the driver said, glancing back at us through the rearview mirror.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a shy smile. “Why didn't you text me that you were coming to pull me out of school?” I pressed, hoping to understand the situation better.
“Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see if you'd actually leave with a stranger.
Besides, I figured you wouldn't agree if I told you,” he said, his smirk was a little too smug for my liking.
He had barely spoken to me in the last few days, and I was getting mixed signals from him.
I chose not to inquire about our destination; I doubted he would provide any clarity.
After a few minutes, Mic parked in front of Zane’s apartment.
“I thought I'd never come here again,” I said, irritation creeping into my voice.
“True, I would never bring you here when my dad is home, but he had a court meeting today, and he wouldn't be back until later,” Zane replied, a smile on his face.
He didn't kiss me, and I sensed a distance between us; he felt different from the Zane I was beginning to know.
Maybe this was an unfamiliar side of him.
He opened the door, and we headed straight to his room. Caught up in my frustration, I didn't consider the implications of why he brought me back here until it struck me: perhaps he wanted to pick up where we left off the other day.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit me. Spontaneity felt one way, but a plan felt entirely different.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, sounding a bit foolish.
He gave me a sly grin. Zane stepped closer, resting a hand on my waist and pulling me in slightly.
Leaning in, he moved his face nearer to mine, his breath warm against my skin.
He kissed me softly, stirring a whirlwind of anticipation within me.
I kissed him back more fervently, but he pulled away gently.
“Careful, it could get dangerous,” he murmured, pausing. “I have a surprise for you,” Zane added, igniting my curiosity. He took my hand and began to walk backward toward the bathroom door, keeping his gaze locked on mine. I was confused but followed him without hesitation.
He nudged the door open, guiding me inside with gentle insistence. I needed a moment to collect myself; my heart sank when I took in the sight of countless red candles flickering throughout the bathroom. The tub was filled halfway with bubbles, creating a dreamy oasis.
“I just added hot water, thinking it would reach the perfect temperature, but it's probably just lukewarm now. Let me top it off for you,” Zane said, settling himself on the edge of the tub and turning on the faucet.
I was at a loss for words—he had gone through all this trouble for me, simply because I had shared my longing for a relaxing bath. But as a knot formed in my stomach, I couldn't shake the thought that this moment could be for both of us.
Zane glanced at me and pulled my hand, inviting me to come closer between his legs. He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head against my chest.
“Don't look so terrified, dummy. This is just for you.
I'll be on the other side of the wall, lost in a book,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.
“But I can't promise I won't be thinking about you.” His teasing sent a wave of warmth through me.
After turning off the faucet, he stood, pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, and exited, leaving the door closed behind him.
I stood there in a daze, my body trembling. I moved toward the door, contemplating locking it, but instead opted to leave it unlocked, keeping my options open.
I removed my yellow hoodie, catching a glimpse of myself in the large mirror.
The drawn window shades left the room dim, the flickering candlelight was the only illumination.
I peeled off my jeans and the rest of my clothes, folding them neatly atop the sink's cabinet.
Tying my hair into a bun with a rubber band I always wore on my wrist, I stepped into the tub.
The water was burning hot against my cold feet, but I quickly acclimated, sinking in until the water reached my chin. The aroma enveloped me, a delightful mix of various scents and a hint of sea salt.
I lingered in the bath for several minutes, half-expecting Zane to join me at any moment, but there was only silence. It was difficult to unwind, knowing he was so close, just on the other side of the wall.
After numerous attempts to relax, I finally surrendered to the soothing warmth, finding comfort in the water. I wanted to stay there indefinitely, but as the temperature began to dip, I felt the urge to reach Zane.
I pushed the door open and found him exactly where he said he would be: sprawled on the bed with a book in hand. He was clad in loose, thin, dark grey sweatpants and a snug light grey t-shirt, complete with a pair of glasses perched on his nose.
“I had no idea you wore glasses,” I remarked, my curiosity piqued as I stepped closer to the bed.
“Only for reading. My left eye has a bit of a lazy streak,” Zane replied with a grin. “How was your bath?” he asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“A dream come true,” I sighed, closing my eyes as if to relive the moment.
“I'm pleased to hear that,” he chuckled. “Come on over here,” he added, opening his arms wide in an inviting gesture. I didn't hesitate for a second and slipped under his wing.
“I wasn't sure what to do with the candles,” I admitted.
“Don't worry about it; I'll take care of that,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“What are you reading?” I inquired, attempting to sneak a peek at the cover.
“Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Have you ever read it?” Zane asked, his enthusiasm evident.
“No, what's it about?” I responded, genuinely intrigued. He smiled.
“You should definitely give it a try. I think I've read it four or five times already,” he said.
“But why reread something if you already know every word?” I wondered aloud.
“Because of the way it makes me feel,” he whispered softly.
“If you were a book, you'd probably belong in the dark romance section,” I teased, a playful grin on my face.
“And if you were a book, you would be my favorite—one I'd want to read again and again, every single day, every moment, savoring each page and each word until the very last one,” he replied, his voice low and intimate as his fingers brushed across my cheek.
“Hm, so it's a short story then?” I joked, trying to keep my emotions in check.
“At least a thousand pages; you're still writing your story, Luna. I wish I could be there to witness the ending,” he said, his words deep and thought-provoking, sending a shiver down my spine.
“And what if it has a tragic ending?” I asked lightly.
“No story has a bad ending; they all offer lessons and reflections. Isn't that the point?” he countered, sending another shiver through me. I tried to distract myself as an overwhelming desire for him surged within me.
“So, what draws you to this book?” I asked, picking it up from where he had laid it beside him.
“I'm not entirely sure. I think I'm intrigued by the destructive nature of love.
Heathcliff is an antihero consumed by passion and revenge, and his fixation on Catherine leads to his own ruin and that of everyone around him.
Heathcliff and Catherine's bond is primal and all-consuming, transcending death but destroying everything in its wake,” he explained, his gaze fixed on the pages.
“And what does this book teach you?” I probed further.
“That love is a primal, amoral force,” Zane replied seriously, as if the statement resonated deeply within him. For a moment, his eyes drifted into the distance. “Let's go; I need to feed you,” Zane said abruptly, standing up. I followed him without question.
I watched him in the kitchen, and I felt a yearning to learn more about him—his likes, his feelings.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said, lifting a whisk.
“Like what?” I protested innocently.
“Like I'm about to cook a meal for you. I just boiled some pasta and opened a jar of cold sauce. That's about the extent of my culinary skills,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
While we shared a meal, he opened up about his childhood, sharing that he used to collect rocks and kept a light on while he slept until he turned ten.
He also shared that he got his first scar from a bicycle accident at age six.
He reminisced about his first kiss at twelve, wearing braces, and having a face full of freckles along with long, curly hair.
However, he seemed reluctant to discuss his parents, so I didn't pry.
He even reminisced about V, describing her as a sweet child, which surprised me. I mentioned the upcoming party, and to my surprise, he agreed to accompany me if that was what I wanted, noting that the Vipers would be there too.
After our lunch, he meticulously washed all the dishes, refusing my offers to help.
Zane offered to drive me home, but I insisted on taking the bus instead.
He tried to convince me otherwise, but I held my ground.
Before I left, he leaned in and kissed me deeply.
Dizziness, lava, air floating, flowers blooming, tremor… I experienced it all. Once again.
Strolling through the town, I couldn't help but notice the many shops lining the streets. Suddenly, it struck me that I had nothing suitable to wear for the upcoming party, so I decided to take a look around since I still had a bit of time before my bus was scheduled to leave.
I wandered through several boutiques, but nothing caught my eye. Just as I was about to give up, something white stood out among the other garments. I reached for it and discovered it was my size.
It was a simple, sleeveless A-line dress in solid white, featuring a V-neck in the front and a deeper plunge in the back.
When I tried it on, I realized I would have to forgo a bra.
Though it felt a bit strange at first, the thick fabric and snug bodice provided enough support.
When I glanced in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised—it looked fantastic and was perfect for the occasion.
The day turned out to be wonderful: I spent the morning with Zane, enjoyed a blissful bath, found the ideal dress, and even managed to catch my bus. Little did I know what fate had in store for me.
If I had lingered longer with Zane, I might have rushed to catch my bus without stopping to shop, or if I had accepted a ride, I would never have discovered this beautiful dress.
If only… But I didn't want to believe in destiny, and yet now I found myself questioning my beliefs.
Because that dress would be worn for the first and last time.