“No.” I’d shaken my head, pleading. “I don’t want that.”
I deemed it better for Franco to live with the guilt of his actions. He’d always been the kind of person to act like nothing bothered him, while internally detonating. I had an inkling that how he treated me secretly haunted him. However, if Franco really was behind the break-in, all bets were off. I wouldn’t stop Papà. He’d have free rein to do as he pleased with my ex-boyfriend.
Academically speaking, things were progressing without a hiccup. Despite the stress of the situation that should have mentally crippled me, I persevered, staying on top of my game. All my readings, assignments, and class projects were completed in a timely manner. Nor did I miss a single WIB student association meeting, always present with my notes and financial projections. We were all set for our mixer in a few days and halfway done with the preparations for our next event, a networking affair featuring respected panellists from behemoth firms.
I also saw Anna and Layla often. We sometimes carpooled and they hung out with me if we had a mutual break on campus, rarely leaving me alone. And if they couldn’t be next to me physically, they were constantly populating the group chat with texts, demanding I provide updates on my whereabouts every hour. I appreciated their concern and support more than I could convey in words.
With every passing day, the sunken claws of paranoia retracted from my pierced skin and I felt like I could breathe a little bit better. I continued marching through my day-to-day with more confidence in my step, knowing I was well-protected and surrounded by people who cared for me.
And then there was Hunter.
Regardless of his busy schedule, he sought me out whenever possible, under the guise of ensuring that I wasn’t alone, even though Oscar always hung nearby. But deep down, I knew it was because he wanted to be around me. The same way I wanted to be around him.
On Mondays, he drove me to school and bought me a mocha and chocolate-dipped donuts. In return, I gave him roses from my garden. Sometimes one, sometimes two, sometimes three. They always seemed to make his day a bit brighter, his entire demeanour coming to life as though he was anticipating receiving them all week. One of the most endearing qualities he possessed was wanting to preserve the blooms, like he was a man who cherished any gift. No matter how small and trivial.
“This is my favourite part of Monday,” he’d said last time, placing the bouquet in his car’s cup holder.
I’d put on my seatbelt. “Receiving flowers?”
Hunter had shaken his head, confessing in a raspy tone, “Seeing you.”
My heart had clenched inside my chest.
He’d traced the blush on my cheeks with the back of one knuckle before skimming a strand of my hair behind my ear.
Unable to stop myself, I’d also confessed, “Mine too.”
On Tuesday and Thursdays, he always drove me back to my parents’ home, even if he had to stay behind after his classes and football practices ended.
“You know you don’t have to wait after me,” I’d told him, playing with the ends of his hair as he parked his car in the driveway. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
The brief glance he cast me practically saidnothing is more important to me than you.
My breath hitched when he caught my wrist and placed a butterfly-soft kiss on my fluttering pulse. “Though you haveOscar, I’ll sleep better if I drive you myself and see you enter the house, Gabby. Let me keep doing this for you. If not for your sake, then mine.”
My goodness. He was extremely sweet and I could never deny him when he implored in such a gentle tone.
On Wednesdays during our break, we worked on our weekly Horror & Cult Classic Cinema assignments. Hunter still held my hand during class, but he was less jumpy and more engaged, actually beginning to enjoy the films.
One particular weekday evening, in the midst of painting my toenails, I’d gotten a text from him. It was a list of the top ten scariest movies in the last decade.
Do you want to watch these with me? —Hunter
We can have a movie night at my place sometime soon. —Hunter
I was so proud that he’d overcome his previous aversion to this genre. In fact, I liked how much he looked forward to our weekly class. For those three hours, we were sucked into another world, passing messages through my notebook, eating treats, and holding hands while watching a horror flick.
I capped my red nail polish and texted him back.
Yes, I’d love that! —Gabby
Will you let me hold your hand? —Hunter
Hunter had held my hand figuratively and literally since the moment we met on the terrace, helping me, driving me, being there for me in any capacity…and it was only fair I returned the favour.
Of course, pretty boy. – Gabby
What are you up to right now? —Gabby
