THIRTY-SEVEN
Even though, I knew I would see Lena in a week, I still hated saying goodbye. Thankfully, Luca volunteered to drive both Alessandro and Lena to the airport. I started getting ready, dressing in a sexy strapless purple dress. I bought this one just for Santorini—to pair with the flora.
Luca had barely been gone five minutes when his phone lit up again, buzzing incessantly on the corner of the desk where he’d forgotten it. I glanced over, annoyed at the disruption, but told myself to ignore it. It wasn’t my business. Not even a little.
Still, when the screen lit up for the fifth time in two minutes, my resolve faltered. I didn’t read the messages. I didn’t need to. The names flashing across the screen were enough. Vanessa. Adriana. Sofia. All women. All with messages coming in rapid succession.
I pressed my lips together and set the phone back down carefully, as though it might burn me if I held on too long. My chest tightened, but I shook it off. What did it matter? Luca and I weren’t a thing. We weren’t anything, really. A fling, maybe. A whirlwind romance born out of too much sun, too much wine, and too much of whatever chemistry kept pulling us toward each other. But it wasn’t serious. I didn’t want it to be serious.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
I stepped out onto the balcony, inhaling the salty breeze, letting the warmth of the sun melt away the tension in my shoulders. The view was too stunning to let my thoughts spiral into unnecessary drama. Whitewashed buildings gleamed against the impossibly blue sky, and the sea stretched out endlessly before me, shimmering like liquid glass.
“This isn’t my problem,”
I said out loud, as though the words would anchor me. I was here to experience everything Santorini had to offer, not to dwell on the fact that Luca’s phone was blowing up with messages from women. I wasn’t the jealous type. I wasn’t the type to let a man’s personal life derail my plans. And I wasn’t about to start now.
When Luca arrived back at my room, his presence filled it effortlessly as always, but something’s different. He moved toward the desk, picking up his phone and glancing at the screen with a mix of hesitation and something close to embarrassment. His jaw tightened, and when his eyes flicked to mine, there’s a spark of uncertainty in them that I wasn’t used to seeing.
He looked like he wanted to say something, like there’s an explanation waiting on the tip of his tongue, but instead, he just exhaled sharply and tucked the phone into his pocket. I kept my expression neutral, refusing to give anything away. It’s not like I had any right to feel…whatever it was I felt. And yet, my chest was heavier than it should.
“Everything good?”
I asked, my tone deliberately light as I slide my bag over my shoulder.
He nodded, but it was a delayed response, and I caught the way his hand lingered in his pocket, like he’s bracing himself. “Yeah, fine. Just…a lot of random messages.”
I didn’t press. I wouldn’t press. That’s not who I was, and it’s definitely not who I wanted to be with him. Luca and I occupied this undefined space—fun, intense, but not complicated. I’m not about to ruin it by asking questions I’m not sure I wanted answers to. We were both here, now—and that’s all I cared about for today.
We headed out, the sun beating down as we stepped into the car waiting for us. Luca followed me, but he’s quieter than usual. The easy confidence he wore so well felt dimmed, and I could sense his energy shifting, like he’s wrestling with something unspoken. He glanced at me a couple of times as we drove, but when I caught him, he looked away quickly, his grip tightened on the steering wheel.
I leaned my head against the window, letting the view wash over me. The island unfolded before us in all its beauty—whitewashed villages perched on cliffs, the sea glittered like a sapphire stretched to the horizon. It’s breathtaking, a reminder that there’s more to focus on than whatever this…tension was between us.
Still, I can’t ignore the way it lingered. I felt it in the silence, in the way Luca seemed torn between speaking and staying quiet. But I’m not going to rescue him or this situation—because in the end, it didn’t matter.
When we finally pulled up to Milos, it’s like stepping into a dream. The place was quiet and beautiful, the kind of place where time seemed to slow down. The turquoise water lapped against the shore with a rhythm that felt natural. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling my shoulders relax just a little.
We made our way to a little taverna perched right on the edge of the sea. The tables were simple—wooden, with clean white linens. The air smelled of savory herbs and spices. I was immediately struck by the peace here. The food arrived in small, simple plates: creamy tzatziki, smoky grilled eggplant, and olives that were perfectly briny. I took a bite of the feta, the richness of it cutting through the freshness of the wine. It’s simple, but it’s the kind of food that filled you up in a way that’s satisfying without being overwhelming.
Luca and I talked easily—finally, the tense moment passed. There’s no pressure, no awkward silences. He told me stories about his family’s vineyard, how Gia had a way of convincing people to buy way more wine than they needed, and how his brothers were both characters in their own right. It’s funny and warm, the kind of conversation that made me feel like we’d known each other longer than we really had.
We fell into a natural rhythm, the kind where we didn’t need to fill every space with words. Sometimes we just sat there, sipping our wine, letting the conversation ebb and flow without forcing it. It’s not uncomfortable—it’s the opposite, in fact. It’s peaceful. Like being in the presence of someone who understood that silence was sometimes the best part of being together.
Luca shifted in his seat, his fork toying with the edge of his plate as he glanced at me, then away, like he was working up the courage to say something. I kept my gaze on the sea, pretending not to notice, though I could feel his hesitation thick in the air.
“Charlie,”
he finally said, his voice low but steady.
I looked up, raising a brow. “Hmm?”
He set his fork down, leaning forward with his forearms on the table. “About my phone,”
he began, his tone careful. “I, uh… I know it probably looked bad. Insensitive, even. But I need you to know it’s not what it looked like.”
I blinked, surprised he’d even brought it up. I’d convinced myself it didn’t matter. Still, something about the sincerity in his voice made me pause.
“You don’t have to explain,”
I said, shrugging as casually as I could manage. “Really. It’s not my business.”
He frowned, his jaw tightening. “I don’t want you thinking—”
“I’m not thinking anything,”
I cut in gently but firmly. “Luca, I saw a few names pop up on your screen. That’s it. I didn’t read anything, and I don’t care to. It’s not my place.” I met his gaze, hoping he’d understand I meant it. “Whatever you’ve got going on, it’s your life. I’m not here to question it.”
He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable, like he was trying to decide if he believed me. Then he nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Still. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Okay,”
I assured him, reaching for my glass of wine and taking a sip. “We’re here to enjoy the day, not get caught up in stuff that doesn’t matter.”
Luca’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought he might push the topic further. But then he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as he gave me a small, almost sheepish smile. “Fair enough.”
The tension eased slightly, though I could tell he wasn’t entirely satisfied with leaving it there. I chose not to dwell on it. Whatever those messages were about, they didn’t change why I was here or what I wanted out of this trip—or out of Luca.
We finished lunch with the conversation flowing more easily after that, but the memory of his apology lingered in the back of my mind, unexpected and unshakable.
We left the taverna and strolled through the streets, the sun still high, the heat softened by the cool breeze off the sea. The little shops lined the streets were full of bright colors and handmade goods, but we didn’t rush to look at anything. We just walked, side by side, our shoulders occasionally brushing, the touch light but somehow meaningful. I was surprised at how easy it is to just be here with him—even if I had to remind myself a few times that Luca wasn’t someone I had a right to be upset over.
After lunch, Luca leaned back in his chair, swirling the stem of his wineglass lazily between his fingers. A familiar, mischievous grin played on his lips as he looked at me.
“What do you think about heading to Sarakiniko Beach?”
he asked, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with excitement. “Perfect spot for a little cliff jumping.”
I raised an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth twitching upward. “Cliff jumping? Sounds like you’re trying to show off.”
His grin widened. “Maybe. Or maybe I just want to see if you can keep up.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide my curiosity. “Fine, Lione. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The moment we arrived at Sarakiniko Beach, I felt like I’d stepped into another world. The stark white rock formations stretched out in smooth, otherworldly shapes, set against the impossibly blue sea. It was stunning—like something out of a dream.
“This is incredible,”
I said, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
Luca stood beside me, hands on his hips as he surveyed the cliffs. “Wait until you’re in the water,”
he said, already pulling his shirt over his head.
I tried not to stare as he tossed it aside, but the smug grin he shot me told me I wasn’t subtle enough. “Come on,”
he called, striding toward the edge of a low cliff.
The water below shimmered in the sun, clear and inviting. Luca turned to me, raising an eyebrow. “You coming, or are you just going to admire the view?”
I crossed my arms and gave him a look. “I’m just deciding if this is worth the effort.”
With a laugh, Luca turned and leapt off the edge, slicing through the water with an effortless dive. He surfaced moments later, shaking water from his hair and flashing me a triumphant grin. “Your turn!”
My heart pounded as I approached the edge. The height wasn’t bad, but the drop still made my stomach flip. I took a deep breath, muttering, “If I die, I’m haunting you.”
“Deal!”
he called back, still grinning.
Before I could overthink it, I jumped. The air rushed past me, and for a moment, I felt completely weightless. Then the cool water wrapped around me, and I surfaced with a gasp. Luca was already swimming toward me, his laugh ringing out as I pushed my wet hair out of my face.
“Not bad, Monroe,”
he said, treading water beside me.
“Not bad? That was practically Olympic level,”
I shot back, splashing him for good measure.
He laughed harder, dodging the spray before lunging toward me in retaliation.
The next hour was a blur of jumps, laughter, and teasing. Luca challenged me to jump from slightly higher cliffs each time, his grin growing wider every time I hesitated. When I finally dared him to do a backflip, he smirked at me.
“Are you doubting my skills?”
he asked, his voice dripping with mock offense.
“Prove me wrong,”
I said, crossing my arms.
With an exaggerated wink, he launched himself off the edge, flipping perfectly before plunging into the water. When he resurfaced, his grin was smug.
“Happy now?”
I clapped slowly, my expression deadpan. “Fine. That was impressive.”
Eventually, we climbed onto a smooth stretch of rock to dry off. The sun warmed my skin, and the sound of the waves filled the easy silence between us. I stretched out on my back, closing my eyes as the warmth seeped into me.
“You’re braver than you give yourself credit for,”
Luca said after a moment, his voice softer now.
I opened one eye and glanced at him. “And you’re cockier than you think you are.”
He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Fair enough.”
We stayed there for a while, letting the energy of the day settle into something quieter. The wildness of the afternoon gave way to a peaceful kind of contentment, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could just breathe. This Luca was the one I wanted to keep.