Page 95
I open my mouth, but he keeps going.
“I know you never wanted this marriage. I know you were forced to marry that bastard. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
My fingers tighten around the phone.
“I’ve been trying to find a way to get you out of there,” he continues. “And I finally found one.”
“What are you talking about?” I’m still confused about what’s going on right now.
“I found a way for us to leave. You and me. Together.”
My heart stutters. “Luca, you can’t—”
“I can. And I will.” His voice is firm now. “I’ll get you away from Roman. We’ll leave before he even realizes what happened. I already got us help. Come with me baby. I’ve already thought about everything. We can disappear, start over somewhere new. Just you and me. You don’t have to stay with him, Aurora, not anymore. Now we’re finally going to be together.”
And that’s when it hits me. Luca doesn’t know. He still thinks I’m trapped. He still believes I’m waiting for him to rescue me.
“Luca, stop.” I take a breath. “You have it wrong. I’m not coming with you.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “What?”
“I’m married to Roman, Luca. And I want to stay married to him.”
His silence lasts long enough for me to hear him breathe. “No,” he finally says. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You’re scared of him. And I understand.” His voice becomes urgent. “But, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I found a way out. I can even bring him down. You just have to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I say quietly, “but I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Then why are you saying this?”
I close my eyes for a moment. “What happened between us is unfortunate, Luca, but I’m happy here. I’m happy with Roman.”
He exhales sharply, clearly struggling to accept my words.
“Okay,” he says eventually. “Then meet me.”
I frown. “What?”
“Just meet me. In person. There are things I can’t explain over the phone.” His voice softens. “If you really don’t want to come with me, fine. But at least give me that. Let me see you one more time. Let me have some closure.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, Aurora. Coffee. That’s all I’m asking for. I went through hell to get to Chicago for you—the least you could do is see me.”
Everything in me tells me not to do it, but part of me understands why he wants to see me. Maybe if I meet him face-to-face, he’ll finally understand that whatever we had is over.
“Fine,” I say.
“Thank you. I’ll text you the details.”
The call ends. I lower the phone slowly, staring at the screen. How did Luca even get to Chicago? My phone vibrates again.
A message from Luca, with a time and location for our meeting, then adds one more line: Come alone.
My brows furrow. I read the message again. Come alone? Something about that doesn’t sit right with me. Why does he need me to come alone?
