Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Thirty-Five

FINLEY

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 16TH, 2023

I baby the mug of coffee in my hands, cradling it for warmth as I take a sip. Leaning against the counter, I watch as Luca passes every so often, loading our bags in the trunk to leave. My world may be crumbling, but at least this coffee tastes good.

He crawled into the bed next to me last night, and I didn’t say anything. My energy was depleted, and in all honesty, I missed the warmth of him at night. We never spoke a word to each other, nor did we touch. He stayed on his side, and I stayed on mine. I could breathe a little easier when I woke up this morning, but only until everything started to creep back in.

I crave those fleeting moments when I forget, where I can look at him the same way I did before, without the shattering pain stabbing me in the chest.

“You two are fighting.”

I blink rapidly as I try not to sputter on my coffee, looking over to see Ana walking into the kitchen. She’s wrapped in an oversized cardigan, and her hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders, the same curls she’d given to Luca.

“I…”

Don’t know what to say.

“What did my son do?” she presses, her eyebrows knitting with concern.

“Just a disagreement,” I say with a smile, but I can tell it’s not quite reaching my eyes. I’m trying, I swear I am. “That’s all.”

Her dark eyes don’t look away from me, and suddenly, I’m sweating. I wonder if she can read me like an open book; I know my mother can. She tilts her head ever so faintly, and then her eyes soften as she places a gentle hand on my arm.

“I told you mi hijo has never brought a girl to see me before.”

I nod steadily.

“He never dated when he was younger. Never had a girlfriend.” She shrugs. “I was beginning to lose hope.”

Bringing the mug up to my lips for a small sip, I say, “I didn’t know that.”

“He’s a good boy,” she urges softly. “His heart is too big for his chest.”

But I wouldn’t know that, would I? He keeps his heart chained far away from me, only allowing me small glimpses when I can feel it thrashing against my palm. My eyes avert to the ground, on my boots, as I grip onto the mug for dear life.

“You know.”

What?

Jerking my head up, my mouth pops open, but nothing comes out.

“He told you about his past.” Her hand drops as she pulls the cardigan tighter around her. “What he did for us.”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“What he’s done for you .”

“You know about that?” I croak, and my eyes water, much to my dismay.

She takes the mug from my hands and sets it on the kitchen counter before cradling my face in her tiny hands. It’s the most comfort I’ve felt the entire trip, and my lip trembles before I bite down on it harshly to keep from breaking down. Her touch is warm, and it makes me miss my own mother so much.

“I know everything, mi ni?a .”

“He tells you?” I ask.

She nods, brushing her thumbs along my cheekbones before she releases me. “Luca has only made the decisions he has to protect the people he loves.”

A sad smile dances along my lips. “He doesn’t love me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He lied to me.”

“To protect you, Finley.” She leans in like it’s a secret just between the two of us. “To keep you safe from the truth because it could hurt you. He cares about protecting you because he loves you too.”

Our conversation is cut short as Luca walks back inside, his hands in his pockets as his dark eyes dart between the two of us warily. My mind checks out as we’re telling everyone goodbye, only clinging to small pieces because I can’t stop thinking about Ana’s words. Ana gives me another warm hug, Emilia manages to smile at me as best as she can, and Carmen snatches my phone from my back pocket and plugs her number in. Something about a girl’s day or getting pedicures together. While I would love that, especially before, now, I just don’t know. It’s all nodding and fake smiles just to get through the interaction, to get to the car so I don’t have to hold my breath anymore and pretend I’m okay.

I don’t remember exactly how I got to the car, I just know that I jump when Luca climbs into the driver’s seat next to me and closes the door behind him. Blinking, I glance over at him to see he’s already looking at me. His glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, and his lips twist as he chews at them from the inside. He’s annoyingly beautiful. Jesus Christ.

“She didn’t bother you too much, did she?” he asks quietly.

I frown. “Your mother? N-no, she didn’t bother me at all.”

I’m thankful when he turns his attention away from me, starting the car and getting the heat going before he pulls out of the long driveway. The trees are almost bare now that it’s mid-November, and it kind of saddens me to see the leaves scattered on the ground, dirty or wet from the rain. The season for snow is coming soon, and while I love the snow, I love the multicolored leaves so much more.

“You’re quiet.”

I snap out of my spiraling mind once more. “I’m just thinking, I guess.”

“What is it?” he urges, and I can hear the pleading tone in his voice.

“Something your mom said to me.”

He curses under his breath. “What did she say, Princesa ? I’m sorry. She can be intrusive sometim?—”

“She said you love me.”

I stare out of the windshield, not even flinching at how loud the silence is after the words leave my mouth. In fact, I don’t think I can feel anything at this point. I’m numb. I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of feeling sad, and I’m tired of allowing him to break me. Why am I giving him the opportunity to make me feel like this? Because I love him?

Well, it’s just not enough.

I can’t keep feeling this way.

“That upsets you.” It’s a statement.

“No,” I rasp. “I’m not upset.”

“Then how does it make you feel?”

I can’t keep feeling this way.

“What are you, my goddamn therapist?” I snap, jerking my head to glare at him. “I just told you that your mother said you love me, and all you can say is how do you feel about that ?”

“Because I’m scared to talk, Finley,” he growls, gripping the steering wheel as his jaw clenches. “I’ve already fucked this up enough. I’ll say one wrong word and send you running. I don’t want to fuck this up anymore. I want to fix this.”

“And so what if I do run away?”

“I don’t want you to.”

I scoff. “It’s always about what you want.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.”

“Then why?” I cry out, twisting fully in my seat as I put my hand against the dashboard for leverage. My chest is heaving. “Why don’t you want me to leave?”

“Because I care about you!”

Rolling my lips between my teeth, I ease back into the seat and wrap my arms around myself. The trees are whizzing by now at the rate he’s speeding. A skeptical hum escapes my chest, like a cherry on top of the cake. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t trying to rile him, get something, anything out of him. I don’t know why I want him to admit it so badly, but I do.

I need to hear it.

Even though it’ll break me more.

He mimics my hum immediately. “What? What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“This isn’t exactly a conversation I wanted to have while I’m driving,” he grumbles. “I can’t look at you. I can’t focus.”

“It’s okay,” I say.

Luca yanks the steering wheel suddenly, abruptly diverting us toward the side of the road, and the tires squeal against the asphalt. One of my hands braces against the door while the other reaches out and grips onto his jacket as I gasp. When the car jolts to a stop, I slowly turn my head to look at him, my eyes wide. He turns toward me with a panic I’ve never seen before.

“It’s not okay,” he pants. “What I did wasn’t okay. Keeping the truth from you wasn’t okay. Unloading all of it at once on you wasn’t okay. I’m sorry I overwhelmed you with all of this. I’m sorry I practically kidnapped you and made it impossible for you to get away when you needed it. I’m sorry .”

My chin wobbles, and my nostrils flare as I try to compose myself.

“I’m so used to my life being structured.” I sniffle. “This is the complete opposite, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I know what you did came from a good place, but it’s so much to process. I don’t know how to process it. So, I just feel…”

“You want me to apologize for killing them,” he states simply before shrugging. “But I won’t. I’d do it again. I’ll kill every person on this planet if it means you’ll be safe. You’re the only thing I care about, so if I have to light a fucking match and watch the world burn at our feet to protect you—then so be it.”

I want to speak, but I’m afraid all that’ll come out are uncontrollable sobs. He grabs my hand that is still gripping his jacket, tugging it free as he brings it to his scruffy cheek. A whimper manages to escape as he leans into my palm.

“It’s going to be okay, amor ,” he coos.

My fractured heart swells.

“Say that again,” I plead through tears.

He cocks his head sympathetically before he reaches out to wrap his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to his chest. “Oh, Finley. Everything will be okay. You just have to trust me.”

My body melts into him as my sobs consume me, and my fingers fist his shirt as I fall apart in his arms. I’m a snotty, gasping mess, but I can’t stop. It’s like all the stress, all the hurt over the past few days is rearing its ugly head in the form of tears and hyperventilation. The one person I should hate is the only person who can make me feel better. His kisses along the top of my head, his gentle shushing—it’s what I needed. It’s easing that ache in my chest that feels like a gaping hole.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises in my ear.

“I’m so mad at you,” I croak. “So mad , Luca.”

He holds me tighter. “I know, baby. I know you are.”

I bare my soul in the form of tears, snot, and makeup smeared all over his clothes, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. His arms envelop me like a cage, and I allow it. We sit here for what feels like forever, but I can’t bring myself to move. I’m scared that if I move, the bubble will burst. Another shoe will drop.

I cling onto this moment as tightly as I’m white-knuckling his shirt, ignoring the dreadful fact that giving into him, that giving my heart hope for us, might just make everything hurt worse in the end.