CHAPTER 142: THE WEIGHT BENEATH THE WATER

The call ended, but Luca still held the phone in his hand like he was waiting for it to light back up.

Silence.

Just the soft splash of water as he swung his feet gently in the pool.

The sun had risen higher now, burning quiet streaks across his bare arms, but he didn’t move.

A breath left his lips, slow. He rubbed his palm across his thigh, as if that could calm the strange heat crawling up his chest.

"She’s probably just an old friend," he murmured to no one.

He said it out loud like it might pin the thought down, make it easier to believe.

But his jaw tensed.

The way she bumped into him... that laugh—too close, too easy.

And Noel’s voice... it changed. Not in a bad way. Just... softer. Familiar.

Luca glanced down at the surface of the water, at his own warped reflection.

"Do I... sound like that when I talk to him?" he whispered.

He didn’t like the answer he didn’t get.

A small splash as he dipped his foot deeper, the ripple spreading wide—then vanishing.

He suddenly patted his legs dry with the edge of his towel, like being still was too much.

"She’s someone close," he said again, firmer this time, but even he could hear the crack in it.

His gaze lifted—back to the phone, still dark.

Why did Noel end the call like that?

No goodbye. No smile. Just a quick "I’ll call you later," like Luca was something to pause.

Was that jealousy?

He scoffed to himself and shook his head. "No. I trust him."

But then again... did trust always mean you didn’t feel it? That pinch in your chest?

That sudden quiet when someone else made the person you care about light up?

He leaned back on his arms, closing his eyes against the bright sky.

The warmth on his skin didn’t reach his heart.

Maybe it was nothing.

Or maybe it was the kind of small thing that could unravel you one quiet afternoon.

Luca let out a slow breath, staring at the sky so long it almost stopped looking like the sky.

He leaned back, arms stretched behind him, fingers digging faintly into the tiled edge—still holding tension he wouldn’t name.

Then— A shift. His elbow slipped. A quick gasp—then splash.

Water swallowed him in an instant.

Cool, clean, and merciless.

It crashed over his head, tugged at his shirt, soaked his lashes shut.

The silence beneath was total, a pressure against his ears and chest—drowning out everything.

Even her laugh. Even that goodbye.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Let himself float there under the surface, suspended. Time slowed. The sting of chlorine settled behind his eyes, but he didn’t blink.

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe he should’ve pulled himself up already.

But here—right here—everything quieted.

The water hummed against his skin like a hush. No faces. No questions. No thoughts racing behind his ribs. Just the muffled echo of a world above him, and the steady beat of his own heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He opened his eyes slowly beneath the surface. Everything was a blur.

The sunlight fractured through the water like gold thread—untouchable.

And still, that tight feeling in his chest wouldn’t loosen.

His hand reached toward the surface, broke through—and then he pushed up, gasping.

Air rushed in with a sharp inhale.

Hair plastered to his forehead, shirt clinging to his body, Luca blinked against the sun.

He dragged himself toward the shallow edge, arms shaky. Not from the fall. From what clung to him even now.

"Still there," he whispered to himself.

The ache. The confusion.

Trust didn’t mean immunity. It didn’t mean he didn’t feel.

Water ran in rivulets down his arms as he sat again, this time fully inside the pool, chest deep.

He ran both hands over his face, then back through his wet hair.

"She’s just a friend," he said, but even the words tasted wrong.

A small, bitter laugh escaped him. He wiped it away with the back of his wrist.

Somehow, he felt heavier now that he’d surfaced.

A soft shuffle behind him.

"Sir?"

Luca glanced up, water dripping down his temples.

The housemaid stood just outside the sliding door, her voice barely louder than the rustling leaves.

In her hands, a neatly folded white towel. Fresh from the linen cupboard—warm against the morning air.

"I brought this," she said, not prying. Just present. "I saw you... fall, thoughts you may need it."

Luca managed a half-smile. "Yeah. Fell."

She stepped forward quietly and placed the towel on the edge of the pool, close enough for him to reach. Then paused.

Her eyes lingered on him for a breath longer than usual. Not judgmental. Just... observant. Like maybe she saw the crack that hadn’t come from slipping.

"If you need anything else, just press the intercom," she said softly, then turned and walked away.

Luca stared at the towel for a moment, then dragged himself up, water cascading off him in slow streams.

He sat at the edge again, this time wrapping the towel around his shoulders.

But his skin stayed cold.

He climbed out, each step heavy, like the water still clung to his bones.

Luca stepped into his room, towel still clinging to his damp shoulders.

The faint scent of lavender and clean linen hit him first.

He paused at the doorway.

The room had been cleaned.

His hoodie was folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

The windows were cracked open just enough to let in the early evening breeze, curtains dancing softly in rhythm.

Even the books he left scattered on the chair had been stacked, corner to corner, perfectly aligned.

He exhaled slowly... then closed the door behind him.

His eyes drifted across the space—this room that usually felt like his own little chaos now felt almost too quiet. Too still.

He pulled off the wet shirt, let it fall into the laundry basket, and changed into a fresh one.

Something loose. Comfortable. His hair was still damp as he ran a hand through it.

The phone lay on the nightstand.

No messages.

He picked it up, stared at the screen a moment, then placed it back down.

Just one call. That’s all it would take. But he didn’t want to seem... needy. Still. Noel had said he’d call back.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and reached for the game controller.

The screen came to life in a burst of neon color and sound, pulling him into a world of missions and levels.

But even as enemies swarmed and scores climbed—

His eyes flicked sideways.

The phone remained still.

A buzz? No. Just the hum of the air conditioning.

He kept playing, fingers moving out of habit more than focus.

Minutes passed. A victory screen flashed. He didn’t celebrate. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, glanced at the phone again.

Still nothing.

His thumb hovered over the screen.

He didn’t press anything.

He just... sat.

And waited.

Back in the village...

The sun had climbed higher now, soft gold spilling over the cracked walls of old homes and the rusted gates that never seemed to close all the way.

A breeze drifted lazily through the trees, tugging at hanging laundry and scattering the scent of baked earth and woodsmoke into the air.

Noel walked beside Amelia down the familiar footpath, his footsteps unconsciously falling into rhythm with hers.

Their shadows stretched behind them—two shapes woven together by time, distance, and something more fragile than memory.

Amelia nudged him with her shoulder, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Still like you used to," she murmured. "Vanishing like mist, then showing up again like the sun never even set."

He laughed, but his gaze flicked to the ground for a second before meeting hers again. "Some things haven’t changed."

"Hmm." She studied him out of the corner of her eye. "Some have, though."

He glanced over at her, curious.

She tilted her head slightly, mock appraising. "Your voice dropped. That awkward bowl cut finally grew out. And—" her smirk grew, "you’ve got a boyfriend now, don’t you?"

Noel blinked, caught a little off guard by how casually she said it. "Yeah. I do."

Her grin stretched wider, but not unkindly. "Must be serious. You didn’t even glance at me when I nearly knocked you over earlier."

Noel scoffed, pretending offense. "You body-slammed me, Amelia. I thought a motorcycle hit me."

"That was a friendly ambush." She winked. "You forget how I say hi?"

He shook his head, laughing, the sound full but faintly wistful. "I remember you were always dangerous in sneakers."

"Still am," she said, mock proud.

They walked in silence for a beat, the dust swirling gently at their feet.

Somewhere beyond the hedges, a child was laughing.

Wind chimes clinked lazily against a wooden porch.

It felt like the village had paused in a warm exhale, holding them there, somewhere between the past and what comes next.

"Honestly..." Amelia’s voice dropped a little, softer now. "I didn’t know what to expect when I saw you in town again. Wasn’t sure you’d even remember me."

"I remembered," Noel said gently. "You’re hard to forget."

She gave a small smile, then kicked another pebble across the path. "You used to chase me down this very road. I was the fastest kid in the village—until you showed up with those damn long legs."

"You tripped me into a ditch."

"You deserved it."

They both burst out laughing again, and for a moment, it really did feel like the years hadn’t stretched between them.