“I should probably leave,” Luca says, already standing.
“You don’t have to,” I insist.
"Ignore my boyfriend. He’s deeply possessive and mildly unhinged.”
“Clearly,” Luca says dryly.
“Antonio, I can come back later,” Caspian says, kissing the top of my head. He’s still pretending to be calm. “Catch up with your friend. There’s norush.”
“When he says there’s no rush,” I explain to Luca, “he means he’s burning with rage and despair. Maybe it’s best you go before things escalate into a duel.”
Luca leaves, looking more entertained than endangered.
He exchanges perfectly civil pleasantries with Caspian, who is not letting his inner collapse show.
He’s in shock. It’s the only explanation.
“I’m sorry I interrupted,” Caspian says. “I finished faster than I thought at the library.”
“That’s it?” I ask, crossing my arms. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
I stare at him in disbelief.
“Because I was having coffee with my ex! The man who almost had a sex basement!”
“He seemed nice.”
My jaw drops.
“Nice?”
“Yes.”
I sit down, deeply offended.
“So you don’t care.”
“Antonio—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I see it now.”
“See what?”
“You don’t care enough to be jealous,” I whisper. “I’ve never encountered such offensive emotional stability.”
“You say stability like it’s a disease.”
I glare at the tablecloth.
“What else is there to say? Telling Luca to have a nice day was not okay!”
Caspian looks at me fondly.
“Sweetheart,” he says, taking my hand like some kind of an epitome of common sense, “you’re with me. I trust you.”
I scoff.
