I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 07

I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 07

It took a long time before she heard him stand.

“Nora. Give me time. I’ll fix this.”

His voice came through the door. Soft. Like he was saying it to himself.

Then footsteps. Fading. One by one.

Silence.

Because of that one sentence, Nora didn’t sleep well.

Early the next morning, Hailey dropped by with documents.

“Nora, Milan received your portfolio. They said it’s a perfect fit. They want to schedule an online interview

next week.”

“When are you free? How about 3 PM today?”

Nora nodded. “That works.”

Hailey didn’t come in. She set the folder on the shoe rack, then studied Nora’s face. “You look terrible. Didn’t

sleep again?”

A pause. Then Nora shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll pull myself together.”

At 3 PM, she started the interview right on time.

The moment the video connected, a gray-haired Italian professor appeared on the screen.

He asked, in accented English, why she wanted to go to Milan.

She opened her mouth, and suddenly had no idea what to say.

Why did she want to go to Milan?

To escape. To start over. To get far enough away from someone.

But what she said was: “I want to see if I can shine on my own. Without someone else’s light.”

The professor smiled. He said something in Italian. She didn’t understand.

The translator beside him told her: “He says you’re already shining.”

The interview lasted twenty minutes.

She was sent as a substitute bride. They thought she was weak. They…

At the end, he said, “Ms. Nora, your portfolio is the most vibrant I’ve seen in years. Welcome to Brera.”

The screen went dark. She sat at her desk, staring at nothing, stunned for a long moment.

She passed. She was going to Milan.

She picked up her phone. Wanted to tell someone.

She scrolled through her contacts. Stopped on a familiar name.

Reid.

She stared at those three letters for a long time. Then closed the app.

The official acceptance arrived quickly. Classes started next month.

She began packing.

Not slowly. Methodically. The way he’d left. A full clearance.

Clothes folded into suitcases. Art supplies packed into tubes. Books off the shelves, one by one.

Every item she packed felt like pulling out a thorn buried deep in her heart.

Reid never came back. No calls. No messages. No doorbell.

But his studio posted online: “Reid Calloway is in the studio, working on new music. Coming soon.”

A photo of a closed recording studio door. Shut tight. Sealed.

He’d locked himself away.

She didn’t know if he was writing music, thinking, or fighting with the system. Maybe all three.

She packed the last box and listed the apartment for sublet.

The day she left was the day Reid’s new song dropped.

She didn’t know if it was fate or coincidence. Maybe fate had planned it all along-that where he started, she

would end.

She woke up early. Made the bed. Opened the curtains. Wiped the kitchen counters clean.

The sticky residue from that old note was still on the fridge. She scratched at it with her nail. It wouldn’t

come off.

Forget it. She pulled her hand back. Picked up her suitcase. Walked out the door. Didn’t look back.

At the airport, she checked in, dropped her bags, and stood at the security gate, watching the crowds flow

past.

People around her hugged goodbye. Some waved.

She pulled out her phone. Opened social media.

Time to say goodbye.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time. Finally she typed a few words: “Thank you. Goodbye.”

She added a photo: a plane on the tarmac, taken through the window, the distant sky gray and hazy-

impossible to tell if it was early morning or late dusk.

The moment she hit post, her special-follow notification chimed.

Same hour. Same minute. Same second.

But she didn’t click. She didn’t look at what Reid had posted.

She was afraid that if she looked, she wouldn’t be able to leave.

She shut off her phone. Picked up her bag. Walked through the gate.

And so she didn’t hear the two girls behind her.

“Oh my god-Reid just posted a new song!”

“What does that caption mean? ‘I mistook the person but not the heart”?”

“Look at the hair tie on his wrist! I remember that one! That’s his ex-girlfriend Nora’s!”

“Are they getting back together? Is he trying to win her back?”

“But Nora’s literally leaving right now-she just posted from the airport.”

“Oh my god, they posted at the exact same minute… Reid still loves her. And Nora’s gone.”