Standing in the empty hallway after Luca walked away, I realized the quiet, predictable rhythm of my college life had just been shattered. For months, I had been building my defenses, brick by brick, determined to turn myself into an island where no one could land. I had convinced myself that I was safe as long as I kept everything—my grief, my family, and my future—locked behind a closed door.
But Luca's confession changed everything. He hadn't just spoken words; he had handed me a key to a door I had been trying to bolt shut. My college life, which I had treated as a sanctuary of logic and silence, was now transforming into something entirely new. A fresh chapter was opening, and for the first time, I couldn't control the narrative. The storm wasn't just coming from my father's house anymore—it was starting to brew right here, in the heart of my own independence. I wasn't just a student anymore; I was a protagonist in a story I hadn't yet learned to write.
The days that followed felt like walking through a thick, heavy fog. I went through the motions—the library, the lectures, the endless notes—but my mind was hijacked. Luca's words made me confused.
For weeks, I lived in a state of suspended animation. I was waiting for a revelation that didn't come. Every time I walked into the lecture hall, my eyes would instinctively scan the room for him, not out of longing, but out of a desperate need for clarity. Was he going to approach me today? Was today the day the secret would spill?
But Luca went back to being a ghost. He kept his distance more than ever, and the unpredictability of it was eating me alive.
What did he mean? I asked myself constantly. Does he know about my father? Does he know about my secret? Has he heard the whispers in the college corridors about my family's crumbling state?
My internal logic, the one I used to solve complex math problems, was failing me. I couldn't calculate an answer to a variable I didn't understand.
Part of me wanted to march up to him again and demand the truth, but the rational, guarded part of my brain pulled me back. Focus on the degree, Iris. Focus on the exams. Your family is a disaster, your heart is a graveyard, and you are trying to be someone who survives. If I let myself care about what Luca was thinking—or worse, why he was thinking it—I was inviting chaos into my only safe space.
Yet, the confusion was a new kind of torture. It was the first time in my life that a piece of my existence was completely outside of my control. I was forced to wait, to observe, and to wonder if the boy who watched me from the shadows held the power to destroy the fragile peace I had fought so hard to build.
The encounter happened at the very start of the day. As I was walking through the main college gate, the morning air still sharp and cold, Luca appeared from the crowd. He didn't look at me with his usual distance; he looked urgent, almost desperate.
"Iris," he said, catching me before I could drift toward the library. "Do you have some time after our lectures finish today?"
I froze. My pulse quickened, but I forced my expression to remain neutral. "I have a little bit of time, yes. Why?"
"I have some duty to attend to right now," he said, his eyes darting toward the busy courtyard. "But I need to tell you something—something important. Please, wait for me at our spot. You know where. I'll be there within ten minutes of the final bell."
I nodded, my throat tight. "Okay. Ten minutes."
He hurried away, leaving me standing in the flow of students rushing to their classes.
The rest of the day was a blur of agonizing uncertainty. As I sat in my lecture halls, my professors' voices seemed to float over my head like distant static. I tried my best—I really did—to focus on the notes, to keep my mind locked onto the course material, but it was impossible. Every time I looked at the clock, my mind spiraled: What could he possibly have to say that was important enough to break his months of silence? Why now?
Was he finally going to address the elephant in the room? My family, the tragedy of my mother's loss, the coldness of my father? My brain kept trying to calculate the probability of what he would say, but I couldn't find a single logical outcome. I was terrified. I was confused. But more than anything, I was feeling a dangerous flicker of hope that I had tried so hard to kill.
When the final bell finally rang, the sound felt like the tolling of a bell at the start of a trial. I didn't go to the library. I didn't go to my usual study corner. I walked straight to the balcony, the place where we used to meet to talk about the future—the same future that now felt like a nightmare I was trying to wake up from.
I leaned against the iron railing, staring at the empty courtyard below. Ten minutes. I started counting the seconds in my head, watching the shadow of the building grow longer across the pavement. My hands were gripped so tightly to the metal that my knuckles ached.
Whatever he says, I told myself, trying to stabilize my breathing, I will remain unshakable.
"The day has been a slow-motion countdown, and now, the time has finally arrived. Iris is waiting on the balcony, her heart held together by nothing more than willpower and the desperate hope for answers. She is expecting a conversation, but she is about to be hit with a revelation that will force her to confront the one thing she cannot study her way out of: the truth about her own life.
What is the dark truth that Luca has been carrying, and why did he choose this moment to reveal it?Will his confession bridge the gap between them, or will it shatter Iris's world and change her perspective forever? When the silence is finally broken, what will be left of the girl who thought she could face everything alone?
The countdown has ended, and the secrets are about to spill. What is going to happen next?
Let's find out in the next chapter."