𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕤

I grew up in a house that never truly belonged to us. The summer estate stood on cliffs above the sea, with wide terraces, and gardens filled with the scent of lemons and salt. My parents had worked there for as long as I could remember. My mother, Molly, ran the kitchen with calm precision, while my father, James, managed the staff and kept the household running smoothly. For most of the year, when the owners were away, the estate felt like home. The staff lived there, walked through the gardens, and filled the empty halls with life. But every summer everything changed when the De Luca family returned. And with them came Mattheo. We had known each other since childhood, back when we ran through the olive trees and the world felt simple. I had a crush on him long before I understood what those feelings meant. His father rarely left his office and often returned late at night, while his mother spent most of her time in the gardens, speaking with the staff as if she felt more comfortable with us than in the grand house. As the years passed, Mattheo changed. He grew taller and stronger, but something else changed too. There were scars on his skin, and he became more careful with his words and actions. He was still kind to me and still greeted me with the same crooked smile from childhood, but there was always distance between us. Maybe it started after the kiss we never talked about—a reckless moment behind the greenhouse years ago, when the air smelled like jasmine and my heart beat so loudly I thought he would hear it. Or maybe the signs had always been there: late-night meetings, locked doors, and strangers moving through the estate like shadows. Mattheo always kept me from seeing the full picture. Sometimes he didn’t return for entire summers. The staff whispered that he had taken over his father’s business. Now they say he is coming back.