Chapter 16 Luca
I went to the gym at the studios instead of attending the press event. I could have gone home to work out, but the quiet there felt more oppressive than ever when I’d gotten used to spending all my days and evenings with a certain talkative blonde.
After I’d overheard Matilda’s conversation earlier that day and come face-to-face with her lies, I’d decided I wasn’t going to go that evening.
I don’t know how anyone has worked with him in the past.
Of course I like skating with you…I’m happy with our teamwork.
I’d seen red when I’d caught her out earlier, but it had been the reality check I’d needed. Matilda had started to work her way under my skin, just as Nancy had, so this was a good thing.
To make my already foul mood worse, when I’d tried to call my mom to talk to her about it, a nurse had answered her phone.
She’d explained that my mother was fine, but too exhausted to talk.
The steady whooshing of her BiPAP machine came through the phone, each breath she took a painful reminder of her fragility, making my eyes sting with unshed tears.
Initially, I hadn’t responded to Matilda’s texts because I knew I would let my anger get the better of me.
I didn’t want to argue with her, I just needed to reinsert some distance between us.
It wouldn’t look good that Matilda had gone alone, but by the time I’d calmed down enough to even consider showing up for the sake of appearances, it was too late.
Traffic in the city was a nightmare, and I’d never have arrived before people noticed.
It was for the better, anyway. I wasn’t sure that I had it in me to pretend everything was fine, especially with her family and the cameras watching. Turning up and letting everyone see the tension between us was worse than staying away.
I tried to push away thoughts of her arriving alone. I considered checking the channel’s Instagram page to see what was happening but decided against it. I wasn’t a fucking teenager.
A stupid voice kept whispering in my ear that I was overreacting—that I shouldn’t have been that angry over someone I didn’t like or trust.
It’s because you do like her and you’d started to trust her.
You’re angry because her words hurt your feelings.
Amping up the speed on the treadmill to a sprint, I willed my mind to clear. The twenty-five minutes I had been running had left me coated in sweat, my shirt clinging to every muscle along my torso.
From where I ran, I had a good view of the dark reception lobby. The gym was on the second floor, and one of the walls was composed of a huge floor-to-ceiling window. Only one security guard was on duty.
I almost lost my footing when a flash of yellow darted through the front doors.
It was Matilda.
I knew this not only because of her wavy blond hair and hurried gait, but also because she dumped a small bag at the guard’s station, which I would have bet had a doughnut in it. Even from here, she looked beautiful.
Has she left the press event early?
Guilt swirled in my stomach, and I shut off the treadmill and bolted after her. I knew she’d be pissed that I hadn’t turned up, but I didn’t think she’d blow off the whole event. I grabbed my gym bag and stormed to the stairs.
She’d headed toward our dressing room, so I followed suit. The door was open, so I barged in, hoping to find her.
But the room was empty.
Where the fuck is she?
Noticing the absence of her skate bag, I headed straight for the rink. As soon as I pushed through the double doors, I spotted her across the ice. The crash of the opening doors alerted her to my presence, and her eyes widened when she saw it was me.
And. She. Still. Fucking. Smiled.
The irritation from that morning surged back up. There was no way she was actually happy, but there she was, flashing that obviously fake smile.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m not really in the mood. Can we talk tomorrow—”
“No,” I blurted out as I neared her.
A mix of confusion and sadness etched her features.
She pulled a skate out of her bag and didn’t look at me as she fumbled with it. I rubbed at my chest, attempting to ease the weird tension there.
“Why aren’t you at the press event?”
“Because I didn’t feel like it anymore.” Her hands shook as she continued loosening the laces on her skates.
“Why not just be honest?”
“About what?”
“About anything.”
“What are you talking about—” She finally looked up at me with those big green eyes.
Go on. Say it. Call me out for being an asshole.
“Don’t worry.” She visibly composed herself, setting her shoulders back. “Please leave me be; I’d just like to skate.”
“I’ll go as soon as you tell me.”
“Tell you what?” She enunciated each word and pressed her lips into a fine line. Her usual composure slipped for the first time since I’d met her.
“Why did you leave the press event early? You’ve dressed up for it. You must have only stayed…” I glanced at my watch, doing the math in my head quickly. “Forty minutes?”
Her lips parted slightly, an incredulous look passing across her face.
“I told you—”
“The real reason. Stop deflecting.”
“Luca,” she reasoned with me, attempting to settle the argument. Her lack of reaction to my taunts only served to fuel the fire. I dug again.
“You wouldn’t know honesty if it smacked you across the face, would you?”
She cracked. Her mouth tightened, her jaw clenched. The restless bouncing of her leg abruptly stopped, and she let her skates slip from her grasp, dropping them mid-loosen.
“Fine.” She jolted to her feet, sending her skates toppling over. “You want the truth? I left the stupid event because you didn’t show up.” Her voice went up as she pointed at me and moved closer. “I was alone; everyone else had their partners there, and I was alone.”
She turned away from me briefly before thinking better of it.
“And do you want to know the worst part? When they asked where you were, I told them you’d be there because you knew how important it was for me. So now everyone knows you stood me up.”
I shrugged, ignoring the sour burning in my stomach. You are such an asshole, Luca. “Why not just make up another lie to tell them? I assumed you would have told them I was ill or something.”
“Another lie?” She tilted her head.
“You don’t have trouble lying normally.”
She let out a frustrated breath and stormed closer. “What on earth are you going on about?”
“You never tell anyone how you really feel. You just smile and say everything is OK, when it clearly isn’t.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I didn’t think her voice could be pitched any higher. “You stood me up after I repeatedly told you how important this event was, and now you’ve followed me here to—what? Insult me? And not only that, insult me about being nice?”
“Being nice to people to their face while secretly hating them doesn’t make you nice, it makes you fake.”
“Makes me fake? Really? Have you lost your mind?” She threw her hands in the air. Her cheeks blazed red, her words crackling with heat. Her anger was palpable, and it was the first time I’d seen her so raw and alive.
“If you’re only being nice to people to get them to trust you, then it’s fake. It’s manipulation.”
“So I’m suddenly manipulative just because I’m not ignoring everyone like they’re beneath me or refusing to make a bit of small talk with my co-stars? You walk around like no one here is worth your time!” She pointed a finger at me.
“If you think that, why haven’t you said anything? Why pretend everything is fine when you want to scream at me?”
“I could say the same to you! If you hated me this much and thought I was lying the whole time, why not call me out? Why constantly antagonize me into—what? Revealing myself like you’re some moral messiah?”
“I’ve been pretty upfront about my feelings toward you, while you’re still trying to pretend like we’re best friends to my face and bitching about me behind it.
” She opened her mouth, but I continued.
“And don’t deny it, because I heard you this morning on the phone with Lily.
” She flinched at my words, guilt crossing her face.
“I don’t care what you said, Matilda. Frankly, it was all valid—I’ve been a jerk.
I’m pissed you wouldn’t say it to my face! ”
“Because I don’t want to!” She ran her hands through her hair, tugging it slightly.
“So what if you make me feel like shit when we work together? I deal with it myself. There’s no point in bringing it up, especially when we have to spend every day together, and I don’t want you feeling bad as a result. ”
I couldn’t process her words, my anger fogging the rational part of my brain. Our chests were heaving rapidly with our breaths, our voices echoing through the practice rink. There was barely a yard between us, the air ready to snap.
“Do you ever tell anyone what you think? Or do you live in a constant state of being spineless?”
As loud as my closing words were, the silence that followed in their wake was just as jarring. We stared at each other, and I felt the wedge between us growing by the second.
Matilda’s mouth finally opened to say something, but her lip wobbled and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her breaths became shallower, and the rise and fall of her chest was no longer in sync with mine.
A sickening churn twisted my gut as a sharp pang of regret washed over me, and I wished I could take the past few minutes back.
We jumped apart as a shrill ringtone echoed from Matlida’s purse. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the ceiling, looking more exhausted than I’d ever seen her.
You caused that, asshole.
Her throat bobbed with a swallow, and she turned, the yellow fabric of her dress now somehow less bright. Picking her phone up from her purse, she looked at the screen, only hesitating for a moment before answering.
“Hey. Yes, Mum?…I had to go. I didn’t feel very well…
I know—” Her voice cracked. The trembling sent a sinking feeling straight into my stomach.
“I promise, they got some good footage of me before I left…I couldn’t help it.
I didn’t know he wasn’t coming…I’ll try next time, I promise…
No, I’m not crying, I just don’t feel very well… OK, good night.”
Matilda hung up the phone.
Still facing the other way, she bowed her head. My throat tightened, the pressure building with every word I didn’t say.
I had whiplash from the different emotions I’d experienced all day.
I would never forget how it felt to see her so deflated.
It was fucking awful.
“Matilda—”
“Please leave, Luca.” She stayed completely still, her voice a whisper. “Just go. I’m exhausted and upset, and I don’t want to see anyone.”
I didn’t dare move or make a sound.
She turned to look me straight in the eye as she continued, “Is that honest enough for you, or do you want me to read my diary to you, too?”
How had I become the type of person I hated? The type of person who put their feelings before others’, as long as it protected me. Someone who didn’t just tell people when their words hurt, and punished them without giving them a chance to explain.
“I’m sorry, Matilda, I—”
“Luca. I don’t want to talk about this now. I am begging you, please go.”
My heart sank with shame. The Matilda that stood in front of me—the one I’d pushed to this point—was nothing like the bright, bubbly person I’d come to know. Her voice was devoid of her usual happiness, and the weight of my actions hit me like a punch in the gut.
“OK.” I stalled, not wanting to leave her when I’d been so despicable, but also wanting to respect her wishes, knowing what she’d asked was genuine. “How are you getting home? Do you need a ride?”
“Please just leave. I’ll call a cab.” Her voice wobbled.
So I turned and left.
When I climbed into bed in my empty house, I pulled out my phone and opened our text thread. I scrolled through the few messages we’d sent to each other, wondering how I’d sunk so low.
I stared at the screen for a long time, thumb hovering over the keyboard, then let it fall to my chest. What the hell was I doing?
I tossed and turned for twenty minutes before I typed out a message and clicked send.
Luca: I’m sorry, Matilda.