Sylvia and Luke appear to have the perfect life. A thriving fashion startup, a beautiful four-year-old daughter, and a love that began when they met at Harvard Business School. But beneath the surface, Luke hides a dark secret-he's the heir to one o...
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"I want the truth, Luke. No short version. The whole fucking truth." Sylvia demands.
Her voice, a low thrum that vibrates through the room. The intensity in her eyes mirrors the storm brewing in my gut. Silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating. I want to tell her everything, But where do I even fucking begin? My past is a tangled web, interwoven with the very darkness that tore our lives apart. I’m glad Lyria’s asleep, she doesn’t need to hear any of this.
“Where do you want me to start ?” I finally manage, the words scraping raw against my throat. It's a weak question, offering her the control, but right now, I'm willing to offer her my organs if it means she forgives me.
Sylvia considers me for a long moment, her gaze flicking from my face to the window where the stars twinkles like a scattered diamond necklace. “Why did you run away from here?” She says finally, her voice laced with a quiet determination. Back then I only told her that I spent four years at an orphanage in Boston, I never told her why, and her being the most understanding human being on earth, she didn’t probe much. She just assumed that my family was problematic. Which is not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either, and I took advantage of that. I think she regrets not taking Vivian’s offer to do a background check on me.
“My father, he’s not always like that…, sure he was ruthless, but his job requires him to be. He was a bit more gentle when it comes to family. He-”
“What the hell does he do ?” Sylvia cuts me off.
“His job is dangerous, okay. That’s all I’m gonna say about that here. Anyway, he trained me and Matteo to be ready to take over his job someday,” I take a deep breath, the past rushing back in a tidal wave. “One day, we got home from a trip, and some bastard crashed into our car. We recovered fine, but our mother got the worst of it.” I take another deep breath as I remember the state of my mother after that accident. “She went through a coma for two weeks. She was connected to these tubes and machines, it was hard to look at.”
“I guess that changed something in my dad. The training got a lot harder and more brutal as he became obsessed with preparing me and my brother for the dangers of his world. But it wasn't just the physical training that changed, his demeanor shifted too. He became distant, cold, like a stranger inhabiting the same space as us.”
"I couldn't take it anymore," I continue, my voice barely above a whisper as I relive the memories. "Every day felt like a battle, like I was living in a war zone. I couldn't bear to see what he was turning me into, couldn't stand the thought of becoming just like him." Sylvia listens in silence, her expression a mix of empathy and disbelief. I can see the questions burning behind her eyes, the need for answers that only I can provide.
"So I left," I say finally, the weight of the confession hanging heavy in the air. "I packed my bags and ran, without looking back. I thought I could start over, find a life far away from…, whatever he wanted me to be."
Sylvia's silence stretches between us, a tangible presence that fills the room with its weight. I can see the turmoil playing out across her features, the struggle to reconcile the man she knows with the secrets I've kept hidden for so long.
“I need to process this, I just can’t right now.” She exhales as if releasing the pent-up tension that had been building inside her. Her gaze flickers away from mine, seeking solace in the darkness beyond the window. I watch her carefully, my heart heavy with the weight of my confession.
"I understand," I reply softly, the words tinged with a mixture of regret and relief. I hadn't expected her forgiveness, not so easily, not after everything I've kept from her. But her willingness to listen, to try to understand, gives me a sliver of hope.
Silence settles between us once more, thick and heavy with unspoken words. I want to reach out to her, to offer comfort and reassurance, but I know she needs space to process everything she's just heard.
"I'm here whenever you're ready," I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Whenever you want to talk, I'll be here." Sylvia nods, her expression unreadable in the dim light of the room. I watch as she curls up under the covers, her back turned to me, and I'm struck by the sudden sense of loneliness that washes over me.
We’ve never gone to bed without resolving our problems. But for now, in this moment of quiet solitude, all I can do is wait. Wait for Sylvia to come to terms with the truth, to decide whether she can forgive me for the secrets I've kept hidden for so long. And in the meantime, I'll be here, ready to face whatever comes next, together.
