Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“…Turns out he hated how independent I was. Hated that Gio bought my apartment. Loved the free rink-side seats, of course, but hated that he couldn’t control me.” A chuckle leaves her throat. “It was a volatile three months that felt like years.”
The words hang there between us, and I can see the weight of them in her shoulders.
But she doesn’t have to carry it alone anymore.
Not with me.
“You tell any of this to Gio?”
She laughs. “God, no. Are you kidding? He already thinks no one’s good enough for me. He would have lost his shit.”
“So? He should have. Whoever that dude is, he sounds like a prick.”
Nova shifts beneath the water. “He was exhausting. I don’t know why I tried so hard to make it work. I let him treat me like that,” she says, voice quieter now. “That’s the part I hate the most. I made myself smaller. I kept giving him chances, and for what?”
“You ever think maybe you were too much for him because he was never enough for you?”
Her throat works as she swallows. “Yes,” she whispers. “But it still messes with your head.” The water moves. “Tell me about your last girlfriend.”
My last girlfriend.
Ugh. “Do I have to?”
“Of course not.”
Nova says it gently, but her gaze doesn’t drop. She’s not trying to pry. She’s just giving me the same space I gave her.
Which means I have to tell her. Not because she’s pushing—but because I want her to know.
I sigh, dragging a hand through the water. “My last girlfriend... man. She was a lot of things. Gorgeous. Smart. Charming in that way that makes you believe you’re lucky just to be in the same room with her.”
“Ew,” she jokes, shoving a small splash in my direction.
I grin, flicking some bubbles back at her. “Hey, I said was. Past tense. You don’t have to throw down.”
Honestly though, I love that she’s a tad jealous. It warms me on the inside.
“She had this way,” I continue, “of making everyone feel like they were the center of her world. Like the room lit up when she looked at you. You’d think she was sunshine.”
“But?” Nova prompts, tilting her head.
I lean back, letting the water settle around my shoulders. “But it wasn’t real. At least not for me. She was really good at appearances. Great at telling people what they wanted to hear. And I didn’t notice how much of myself I was giving away until I was empty.”
“Did she ever say she loved you?”
I nod once. “Yeah. A lot.” Loved bombed the shit out of me.
“Did you believe her?”
“For a while,” I admit. “Until I realized she loved what I did for her more than who I actually was.”
Nova’s voice is gentle now, stripped of humor. “That’s a shitty thing to realize.”
“I guess,” I murmur. “But it’s also freeing. I don’t know. It made me pay more attention to the real stuff. The quiet things. The way someone looks at you when they don’t think you’re watching. Or how they hold space for you. The little things.”
“That sounds so nice.” What’s that like? Her unasked question lingers in the air.
The water has cooled enough now that we both feel it. Goosebumps rise along her arms. The bubbles have shrunk to foam, so I reach forward and twist the faucet, letting more hot water flow into the tub to warm us both back up. The sudden stream breaks the silence, but not the moment—we’re still wrapped in it.
“You know what else?” I say quietly, not looking at her yet. “Real love doesn’t come with a checklist.”
She tilts her head slightly.
“It’s not earned by being low-maintenance or sweet or perfect,” I continue. “It’s not a prize you get for being easy to be around. You don’t have to shrink for me, Nova. You don’t have to be anything less than exactly what you are.”
That was not a declaration, but it sure as hell felt like one.
Could be construed as one, too.
That does not bother me.
Let her think what she wants.
She gives me a soft, incredulous look. “You say that now.”
“I’ll keep saying it,” I promise.
Nova worries her bottom lip again. “What’s something you’re scared of? Cause you seem pretty…brave.”
Me? Brave?
Ha!
I’m scared shitless about plenty of things: snakes. Heights. Spiders that live in Australia. Floods.
Still, I know she’s not being literal. She wants to know what unseen things I’m afraid of.
“I’ve always felt like people were waiting for me to screw up,” I continue. “Coaches. Girlfriends. Like, sure—you’re fun now—but eventually someone’s gonna figure out you’re not that special. You’re no better than the next guy.”
She frowns. “Luca…”
“It’s not about being insecure. It’s just—” I pause, searching for the right way to put my thoughts into words. “When people have an idea of who you are, you start performing. And there gets to be a point you don’t realize it until you’re exhausted, and no one knows the real you because you’ve never let them see that version.”