I don’t know how long I lay there with my hands tied, but Matteo and I didn’t speak another word.
My eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, waiting for him to finally leave, but eventually, I started closing them.
Exhaustion was taking its toll, and if not for the sickening, all-consuming tension, I would have passed out long ago.
As time dragged on, I stopped staring exclusively at the ceiling and began scanning the walls and the window—anything to clear my head a bit and keep my mind sharp.
But while taking in my room, my eyes happened to drift across the desk, where I spotted something I hadn’t noticed before: a bouquet of crimson roses.
“What are those flowers?” I broke the silence for the first time in ages, my voice raspy from disuse.
I raised an eyebrow, then frowned, genuinely baffled as to how I hadn’t noticed them earlier.
The bouquet was massive.
As if suddenly remembering I existed, Matteo looked up from his phone screen and followed my gaze.
“They’re for you,” he said with complete indifference.
“It was your birthday yesterday.” He went straight back to staring at his phone as if the flowers had nothing to do with him.
My eyebrow shot up so high my whole face contorted.
My lips parted several times as I tried to form a response, but I ended up gritting my teeth and dropping my head back onto the pillow.
I cursed mentally and waited a few minutes before muttering, “I don’t want your flowers.” .
.
.
I ended up falling asleep after all.
How I managed it, I have no idea, but when I jolted awake to my alarm the next morning and the memory of last night came rushing back, one thing was clear: Matteo had still been in my room when I drifted off.
I sat up abruptly and looked around, on edge.
Fortunately, I was alone now.
Taking that in, I tried to calm down and quickly checked myself over.
Everything seemed fine.
And my hands were no longer tied.
I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but for some reason, I just couldn’t.
The alarm went off again, a reminder that even though it was Saturday, I had to get up for my part-time job.
My legs nearly gave out as I stood up, but I managed to hobble over to my backpack and silence my phone.
The last thing I needed was the alarm waking up my brother—whose room was right across the hall—and having him barge in.
While pulling clothes out of the closet, I noticed the bouquet sitting on the desk where it had been left.
Dammit.
I would have ignored it completely if I hadn’t spotted a small box resting beside the roses.
I walked over to the desk and picked it up gingerly, handling it like a venomous snake.
This definitely hadn’t been in my room before.
Which meant…
Matteo left this, too?
I opened it and bit the tip of my tongue hard.
Inside lay a bracelet.
It looked like real gold, but it couldn’t be—something like that would be way too expensive.
I snapped the box shut and tossed it back onto the desk.
What was the point of this?
What was I supposed to do with a bracelet and flowers?
My first instinct was to return them, but God, I was praying I’d never have to set eyes on Matteo again.
*** “Someone I care about…” Sitting down on the floor, I pulled the box toward me.
No matter how much I spun it around in my head, I kept arriving at the same conclusion: the only person who cared about me was my best friend, Lisa.
Did Matteo’s father have a spat with her?
Did they get into a fistfight over lipstick at a clearance sale?
I slid my palm down my face and rubbed it hard.
God, this whole thing was absurd.
Matteo had come off as terrifying, but at the end of the day, both he and his father were clearly complete idiots who couldn’t gather basic intelligence to save their lives.
I just hoped something would finally click in his dad’s head and he’d realize he had sent his son on a total wild-goose chase.
Because the thought of seeing Matteo again was genuinely starting to scare me.
What if he was waiting for me when I got back home?
“Here,” Dante said, handing me a pair of scissors.
Only then did I realize I actually needed them.
Dammit, my brain was barely functioning.
“Thanks.” I took them, feeling his fingertips lightly brush against my neck as he pulled back.
A sudden wave of tingles scattered across my skin.
Dante is my boyfriend.
A secret one, unfortunately.
During our off-hours from university, the two of us work part-time at a bookstore, and management here has extremely strict rules against workplace relationships—to the point of immediate termination.
And I really need this job.
Not every place is willing to hire a student who already has a second job on top of it.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the secret flirting between Dante and me started.
Maybe six months ago.
We’ve known each other even longer.
And now, we’ve been dating for three months.
It’s still in the early stages—kisses, subtle touches.
But I truly loved being with him.
Besides, Dante is pretty impressive boyfriend material.
He’s two years older than me, attends a different university, and captains their basketball team.
Calling him handsome would be a massive understatement.
Blonde hair, tanned skin, brown eyes, and devastatingly attractive features.
Plus, he’s almost a full head taller than me, which was a huge bonus in my book.
“Don’t haul heavy boxes,” he said, taking one from my hands and heading toward the opposite side of the bookstore.
“How many times do I have to tell you I’ll carry them myself?” “They’re really not that heavy,” I tried to smile, but inside, I felt utterly miserable.
If it weren’t for all those damn cameras in the shop, I would have thrown my arms around him.
Granted, we did occasionally sneak off to the stockroom for a quick kiss, but it was extremely risky—especially since the manager was on the floor today.
I used the scissors to slice through the tape on one of the boxes.
Because of our relationship, Dante had already put in his notice, and as soon as they found a replacement, he could leave.
Then we could finally be a normal couple without having to hide.
“Are you free tonight?” Dante asked as he grabbed another box, bringing his face right next to mine, seemingly by accident.
I froze at the touch of his warm breath against my cheek, but forced myself to shake my head.
After the bookstore, I had a shift at the coffee shop.
My coworker would cover for me early, so I’d be free around eight—meaning we could have met up—but that damn Matteo was putting me on edge.
Because of him, I felt like it was better to play it safe for now.
Maybe avoid seeing Dante for a little while.
“Sorry, I can’t tonight,” I replied with a remorseful smile.
I really was sorry.
A little later, wrestling with my thoughts, I texted Lisa: “Can I crash at your place tonight?” I just didn’t want to go home tonight.
And after that…
I hoped everything would finally sort itself out.