I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 09

I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 09

Nora barely slept during the thirteen-hour flight.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sleep. It was that every time she closed her eyes, she saw Reid’s face.

Only staying awake kept the images away. Only consciousness held him at bay.

The plane landed in Milan at 7 AM local time.

The sunlight was beautiful-bright and brilliant, exactly like the photo she’d seen.

She collected her luggage, passed through the airport, and took a taxi to the apartment she’d rented ahead of

time.

The scenery outside the window shifted from highway to old streets, cobblestone roads, ancient buildings.

Everywhere she looked, there were galleries and art supply shops.

Brera Academy sat right at the heart of it all.

The apartment was small. One bedroom, a living room, a tiny balcony. From the balcony, she could see

flowers blooming on the rooftop across the street. Red, yellow, purple. Bursting with life.

The landlord was an elderly Italian woman who didn’t speak English. She used hand gestures to explain how

the utilities worked and how to sort the trash.

Nora guessed at half of it and understood about half. The rest, she smiled her way through.

After the landlord left, she stood in the empty living room and suddenly had no idea what to do.

Back home, she’d kept herself busy every second-packing, planning, processing paperwork, filling every gap

in her schedule so she wouldn’t have to think. Because the moment she stopped, she’d think of him.

It was the same here.

She opened her suitcase and started unpacking, one item at a time.

Clothes into the closet. Art supplies on the table. Toiletries in the bathroom.

The last thing she pulled out was a brown kraft paper envelope.

She held it, standing in the bedroom. Hesitating for a long time.

In the end, she didn’t open it. She pushed it into the deepest drawer of the closet.

It was the first letter Reid ever wrote her. And the only one.

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

Freshman year. He was on tour for two months. He called almost every day-video calls.

But one day, instead of calling, he sent a letter.

A sticky note on the envelope: “For Nora. No one else allowed to read.”

Inside, a single sheet of paper. One sentence: [When I get back, I’ll take you to that sushi place you’ve been

talking about forever.]

A little smiley face drawn at the bottom.

That was the first time she ever felt like someone truly held her in their heart.

Not because of a system. Not because of a mission. But genuinely, truly-someone was thinking about her.

But she couldn’t read it now.

If she read it, she’d miss him.

If she missed him, she’d soften.

If she softened, she’d want to go back.

And if she went back, she’d keep being a fraud.

She closed the drawer and walked out of the bedroom.

No more thinking.

Milan was busier than she’d imagined.

Once classes started, the schedule was packed. Creative workshop, art history, materials research-

homework piled up every day.

The professor was strict. He’d tear apart students’ work without a shred of mercy.

He made her cry once, right there in the studio. She wiped her tears dry and picked up her brush again.

Her Italian classmates were warm. They knew she was American, and they often invited her out for coffee,

for pizza, to galleries.

Her Italian improved fast. From only knowing “Ciao” and “Grazie” at the start, she could now hold halting,

stumbling conversations with her elderly landlady.

Days passed. One after another.

Busy. Full. Calm.

Like a cup of black Americano with no sugar. Bitter, yes, but once you got used to it, it was just how things

were.

The only ripple came from Hailey’s text messages.

Every few days, she’d send screenshots of entertainment news from back home. Most of them were about Reid.