I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 11

I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 11

They kept talking.

From Milan’s weather to Italian cuisine, from Brera’s curriculum to trends in contemporary art.

Whenever she spoke, he tilted his head slightly toward her, as if every word she said mattered.

As the salon wound down, Lucas pulled out his phone. “Can I add you on WhatsApp?”

Nora hesitated for a moment, then nodded and pulled up her QR code.

“Next time you’re free, I can show you around Milan,” he said. “There are places only the locals know.”

“Okay.”

When she walked out of the villa, the night air was cold.

She wrapped her coat tighter and was about to hail a cab.

“Let me give you a ride,” Lucas’s voice came from behind her. “It’s late. Not safe for you to be out alone.”

She wanted to refuse, but looking into his eyes, the words wouldn’t come.

“Then I’ll trouble you.”

In the car, he put on soft jazz.

Nora leaned against the window, watching the city streets slide past.

Her phone lit up.

She glanced down.

A social media notification.

#Reid Calloway and Nyssa Spotted at Airport-Milan Bound?#

Her hand went cold. The phone nearly slipped from her fingers.

Milan?

They were coming to Milan?

She looked up instinctively and stared out the window, as if she might see that familiar silhouette on the next street corner.

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

…..

But there was nothing. Just the amber glow of streetlights. The occasional pedestrian passing by.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas asked.

“Nothing.” She turned off her phone and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

She couldn’t sleep that night.

Not because of Lucas. Because of that notification.

Reid and Nyssa. Coming to Milan.

Was it a trip together? Was it for work?

She didn’t know. And she shouldn’t care.

But she couldn’t control her own mind.

It was like a broken projector, playing those scenes over and over-scenes she shouldn’t be replaying

anymore.

The first time Reid held her hand. His palm was sweaty, his voice a little unsteady: “Nora, I like you.”

Reid at his concert, singing the song he wrote for her. The lights fell on his face. He looked into the crowd,

his eyes finding her, stars shining in them.

Reid lying in bed, sunlight resting on his lashes. He said, “Nora, what do you think we’ll look like when we’re

old?”

These images looped through her head all night long, spinning until her skull throbbed.

By the time dawn broke, she’d barely drifted off.

When her alarm went off, Nora felt like she’d been beaten up. Every muscle ached. Her eyelids were swollen.

The woman in the mirror had sallow skin and dark circles carved beneath her eyes.

She put on makeup to cover it. Packed her supplies. Headed out.

Today was creative workshop. The professor’s assignment: one piece on the theme of “Distance.”

Nora sat in the studio, staring at the blank canvas for an entire hour.

Distance.

What distance?

Geographic distance? Milan to New York-eight thousand kilometers, thirteen hours in the air.

Emotional distance? Between her and Reid: one thousand and ninety-five days of lies and three years of

nightmares.

Or…

She didn’t dare think any further.

In the end, she painted a door.

A door shut tight. Light seeping through the crack at the bottom-but what lay behind the door was invisible.

The professor studied the painting for a long time.

“You’re very good at painting what can’t be seen,” he said. “In this painting, the true subject is the light. And light itself is invisible.”

Nora nodded. She didn’t speak.

He was right.

She was very good at painting invisible things.

Like love.

Like lies.

Like an apology she could never say out loud.

After class, she packed up to leave.

At the school gate, she stopped.

A man stood across the street.

Black hoodie. Baseball cap pulled low. An unlit cigarette between his fingers.

But Nora recognized him instantly.

Even with a mask. Even bundled up. Even with a whole street between them.

She’d watched that silhouette for three years.

Reid.