CHAPTER 158: THE FIRST KEY

When his father left the room, the weight of the conversation still hung in the air like dust motes dancing in the sunlight.

Luca slumped into the nearest chair, his shoulders rising and falling with a long exhale.

Jeff lounged across from him, spoon clinking once against porcelain before he set it aside.

He studied Luca for a moment, the corners of his mouth tugging into a half-smile.

"’Well,’ Jeff drawled, leaning back. ’Could’ve been worse. At least you’re not grounded till you’re forty.’"

Luca gave him a weak glare, then let his head fall into his hands. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"Kid,’ Jeff said, fishing a slip of paper from his coat. ’You just signed up for a whole new headache." He pulled out a small notepad, flipped through it, and tore out a neatly written number.

Sliding it across the table, he added, "Call this agency. Tell them I sent you. They’ll show you a few apartments—decent places, not the kind of dumps your friends would think are ’cool’."

"Luca stared at the paper like it might bite. ’An agency? That makes it feel... real."

"That’s because it is," Jeff replied, tapping the paper with two fingers. "You want independence? This is step one. Finding a roof that doesn’t come with your father’s shadow attached to it."

Luca picked up the note carefully, almost reverently, then glanced up at Jeff with a flicker of doubt. "What if I mess it up?"

Jeff tilted his head, rare gentleness softening his usual edge."Then you learn. That’s the point. You fall a little, scrape your knees, maybe get an apartment with a leaky faucet and neighbors who play music at two in the morning. But you’ll stand up again. And that’s when independence starts to mean something."

Luca traced the number with his thumb, the seriousness finally sinking in. For once, he didn’t joke back. He just nodded slowly. "Thanks, Uncle Jeff."

Jeff’s lips twitched into a softer smile, one that carried both amusement and pride. "Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you see the rent prices."

Luca groaned and buried his face in his arms, while Jeff chuckled, sipping his coffee like a man who’d just passed on both wisdom and a headache.

Jeff lingered at the bottom of the stairs until he heard the faint creak of the study door closing.

He gave Luca’s slouched figure one last glance, then made his way down the hallway, his shoes muffled against the carpet.

Inside the study, Mr. Smith was already behind his desk, riffling through papers though his gaze wasn’t on them.

The man’s shoulders carried that rigid set that betrayed his thoughts more than his expression ever did.

Jeff rapped his knuckles lightly against the doorframe. "I’ll be heading out," he said, stepping in. "Didn’t want to vanish without saying so."

Mr. Smith looked up, then leaned back in his chair. "Thank you for... sitting through that circus." His voice carried a stiffness that softened just enough to show he meant it.

Jeff smirked. "Not my first family drama. Doubt it’ll be the last." He tucked his hands into his pockets, studying his boss for a moment before adding, "You’re already chewing it over, huh?"

Smith’s jaw tightened. He glanced toward the window where the garden blurred against the glass. "I can’t help it, Jeff. Letting him go like this—no guidance, no safety net. Am I being foolish? Maybe I should’ve said no."

Jeff stepped further in, pulling out a chair without waiting for permission, and dropped into it. "Foolish? No. Nervous? Absolutely. He’s your kid. But let me remind you, this isn’t the same Luca you were chasing out of clubs at two in the morning."

That earned the faintest twitch of Mr. Smith’s mouth.

Jeff went on, his tone quieter now. "Ever since he moved to the dorm, he’s different. More... settled. Not perfect—he’s still Luca—but he’s not that reckless boy anymore. You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?"

Smith let the silence stretch before finally admitting,"He has changed. Less shouting, fewer arguments. It’s as if... he’s trying to prove something. To me. Or to himself."

Jeff nodded. "Exactly. He wants to stand on his own two feet. And if you clip his wings now, you’ll just drive him back into the old habits you hated. Better to let him stumble forward than shove him back."

The older man rubbed at his temple, exhaling through his nose. "You make it sound simple."

"It’s not," Jeff said with a shrug. "But it’s necessary. He’s grown, Mr.Smith. Whether either of us is ready or not."

For a moment, the room was still except for the faint ticking of the old clock on the wall.

Mr. Smith finally leaned back, resignation softening the lines in his face. "I suppose all that’s left is trusting him."

Jeff stood, straightening his coat. "Trust him. And maybe trust yourself while you’re at it." He allowed a small, wry smile. "You didn’t do so badly, you know."

Smith looked at him then, and the stiffness in his expression eased, if only slightly.

Jeff tapped the desk with two fingers in farewell. "I’ll check in on him now and then. Make sure he’s not buying an apartment above a nightclub."

That pulled a quiet huff of laughter from Smith—the closest thing to ease either of them had shown since the conversation began.

And with that, Jeff headed for the door, leaving the study behind, the air lighter than when he’d entered.

Jeff jingled his car keys in his hand as he stepped out the front door, Luca trailing behind him.

The morning air carried a soft chill, brushing against the garden hedges and the parked sedan waiting by the driveway.

"You’ll call me if you get stuck, right?" Jeff said, giving Luca a sideways glance as they walked.

"I’m not a kid," Luca muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes following the gravel crunching under his sneakers.

Jeff smirked. "You say that now, but watch how you’ll trip over the first electric bill."

"Harsh," Luca huffed, but his lips twitched like he couldn’t keep the corner of a smile down.

They reached the car, and Jeff paused before opening the door.

His gaze softened on Luca, and for once he didn’t look like the teasing uncle figure, but someone quietly rooting for him. "You’re really doing this, huh?"

Luca nodded. "Yeah... I think I have to."

Jeff studied him a moment longer, then clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Then make it count. Don’t prove your old man right."

With that, he slid into the driver’s seat.

The engine hummed alive, headlights catching on the pale light of morning.

Luca stepped back, lifting a hand in a small wave.

Jeff returned it with a two-finger salute through the window before driving off down the street.

The silence afterward felt heavy and strange.

Luca stood in the driveway a beat longer, then dug out his phone.

His thumb hovered over the number Jeff had scribbled for him earlier, the digits of the agency.

He inhaled, deep and bracing, then pressed call.

The dial tone buzzed in his ear, and he found himself pacing by the flowerbed.

The thought crossed his mind—once this rings, there’s no going back.

The line clicked. A polite voice broke through.

"Good morning, this is Carson Realty. How may I help you?"

Luca cleared his throat, realizing his voice might betray how new he was at this. "Uh—hi. My name’s Luca Smith. Mr. Jeff... Jeffery Matthew gave me this number. He said you handle apartment listings?"

"Ah, yes. Mr. Jeff mentioned you might call." The man’s tone warmed immediately. "Are you looking to schedule a viewing?"

"Yes," Luca said, a little too quickly. He slowed himself, forcing the words to steady."Actually... is there any chance I could see something today? Somewhere close to Crescent Hill University, maybe near Ashbourne Street. I’ve heard it’s a good spot—not too far from classes, not too crowded either."

"Crescent Hill, Ashbourne..." the man repeated, his voice thoughtful as papers shuffled faintly on the other end. "That narrows things nicely. We do have a couple of listings in that area. One’s right off Ashbourne, the other’s tucked a few blocks closer to the main square."

Luca bit his lip. "Can I... see both?"

"Of course. I’ll be available this afternoon. Say, two o’clock?"

"That works." Relief slipped into his voice. "Where should we meet?"

"I’ll text you the address to the first property," the agent replied smoothly. "We’ll start there and move on together."

"Great. Thank you."

"My pleasure, Mr. Smith. See you at two."

The line clicked off.

Luca lowered the phone, staring at the darkened screen for a beat.

Nerves and excitement surged.

This would be different. A door with their names on it, a space waiting to echo with their laughter, their arguments, their silence.

Just him, and Noel—two mismatched pieces choosing to fit anyway—carving out a place that wasn’t given but built, one key and one step at a time.