The day I decided to change my life

Epilogue (III)

"Forget I said that." Luca said quickly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"What?" I frowned. "Why?"

"This is not- this is not how I wanted to do it." He shook his head quickly.

"But I want-"

"No!" He closed his eyes hard right after covering my mouth with both his hands. He opened his eyes. "Don't say it." He removed them slowly. "Please. I don't know what got into me." He narrowed his eyes a little and studied me. "You were so... Forget I ever said that. Please."

I nodded.

"Riley, promise me."

"I promise, I promise." I nodded eagerly.

"Okay." He sighed; our eyes still locked into one another's.

"I'm sorry about your car."

"It's okay. I... I understand." He glanced at the back of it and breathed in. "I need a moment, okay?"

I frowned and grabbed his arm before he could get out of the car. "Luca." He turned to stare at me, his expression relaxing a little. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I love you. We're fine, okay?" He kissed the top of my head and got out of the car.

I realized my hands were shaking when I glanced down at them, an uncontrollable smile making its way up my lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That's so Luca." Martina laughed.

"I know." I said turning the page of the interior design magazine Martina handed me. It was about floors and wood, and to be honest, I couldn't care less about that. I was a bit distracted, too.

"And he told you to forget it?" She asked, comparing two pieces of cloth. I nodded. "Oh my god, something big is coming." She chuckled.

"What?" I asked horrified. "What do you mean big? How big?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Do you know anything?"

"I swear I don't." She chuckled. "But you know him."

"I do know him." I said in horror. "Oh my god, Martina. I hate it. I hate him."

Martina laughed. "Your relationship is hilarious."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thirty days didn't serve to calm my nerves. They didn't calm either when Luca told me he got tickets for Ace, Martina and I to go watch one of the games of his soccer team. They only got worse.

This is it. I can feel it.

The worst thing was, I knew he knew I knew it, too. The smirks he threw my way every time I tried to make an excuse about why I couldn't go. Every time he threw me hints like:

"Don't you wanna get a manicure?"

"Why?" I asked being defensive. "Why should I get a manicure?"

He smirked. "I don't know. I liked the last time you got one."

Or how he would count the days left to the game.

"5 days left!"

I liked soccer, but I was never gonna be that excited to go watch a game.

Or how he would make me anxious for no reason in particular.

"It's gonna be a huge game. It's gonna be broadcast internationally." He would smile childishly, and I only wanted to punch that smile away.