Alstroemeria
The sting on my cheek was sharp, immediate. I clutched it, reeling not just from the pain, but the disbelief.
"What the hell, Alstroemeria?!" My mother's voice cracked as she shouted through her tears. "I didn't raise you to fail me like this!"
"Mom!" my older sister, Andromeda, called out, rushing over from the couch. She tried to hold her back, hands on her arms, but the damage had already been done.
I didn't speak. I couldn't.
My mother's eyes were wild, red from crying, and brimming with bitter disappointment. "A Valerian? How could you associate yourself with someone like that?"
I lowered my gaze, unable to meet her eyes. I knew exactly what she meant. She found out about Luca and me. But how?
That question didn't linger long. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small stack of photographs.
"I hope this isn't what it looks like," she said, voice trembling. She shoved the pictures toward my face. "Explain this, Alstroemeria."
With shaky hands, I took them. The breath left my lungs as I saw them—photos of Luca and me from the day before. Strolling through campus. Laughing at the mall. Shooting hoops at the court. All of them captured with devastating intimacy.
"Mom, I—" I started, but she didn't even let me finish.
Smack.
The second slap hit the other side of my face, harder than the first.
"End it with him. Now." Her voice dropped, no longer loud but filled with venom. "You either choose that boy, or you choose your family."
Then she turned and walked away, brushing off Andromeda's hand as she stormed up the stairs.
I stood frozen in place, the pictures crumpled in my hand, my cheek throbbing, heart splintering.
Who would do this to me?
Who hated me—or us—that much?
"Are you okay?" Andromeda asked, her voice gentle.
I looked at her, my eyes welling up. I couldn't lie. I nodded anyway.
She pulled me into her arms. "It's okay, Nyxie. You don't have to say anything. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay."
She held me all night in her room. I cried myself to sleep in her arms. When I woke up, my eyes were red and swollen. The mirror confirmed what I already knew—I looked like a wreck.
Still, I had class at eight. I couldn't afford to fall apart. Not completely.
As I splashed cold water on my face, I muttered to myself, "I hate family expectations. All I ever wanted was to be more than just their daughter. So how did it all come to this?"
I forced myself to go to school.
People greeted me as usual, smiles and nods in the hallway, but their voices were distant. I couldn't focus on anything. My mind kept going back to the photos. To him.
Did Luca know? Did he suspect something? Would this make him walk away?
Or worse... had he already?
When I got to class, I waited.
He never came.
That was rare. Luca never missed class. Not unless it was an emergency.
Class ended. I left the room slowly, my steps heavy. Then, my phone buzzed. A message from Mom.
Nyxie, a mail arrived at the mansion. It's about your admission to Sterling Crest University. Congratulations, my darling. You got accepted. Don't lose this opportunity.
My chest tightened.
Don't lose this opportunity.
I knew what she meant. Lose Luca. Or lose everything.
I slipped my phone into my wallet, forcing myself to move. But then I heard something.
"Did you send it?" It was Luca's voice. Quiet. But clear.
I froze... and instinctively ducked behind a wall.
"Yeah," a girl replied. Her voice was familiar—too familiar. Sienna Vale.
"I already sent those photos of you and Alstroemeria on your little date yesterday."
"Good," Luca said.
My heart shattered in an instant.
It was him.
It was Luca all along.
He sent those pictures.
He betrayed me.
He used me.
I turned and ran. I didn't look back. I couldn't. If I did, I might break into a million pieces.
I believed we were more than our family names. More than a Havens and a Valerian. That we were writing our own story—one that wasn't soaked in generations of resentment.
But he proved me wrong.
He sent those photos to my mother. He ruined everything.
I fumbled for my phone, tears blurring my vision, and called Andromeda.
"Nyxie?" she answered, voice warm, concerned.
"Please," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Come get me."
"I'm on my way."
The moment the call ended, I dropped to my knees at the campus gate, burying my face in my hands. The sobs came fast, loud, and messy. I didn't care if anyone saw me. I didn't care about grace or composure.
He wasn't the boy I thought he was.
I should've listened to myself. I should've kept my walls up. But I let him in. I let a Valerian in.
And this time, I wasn't sure if I'd ever forgive myself for it.
Andromeda found me there.
She didn't ask questions. She didn't demand answers. She just knelt down beside me and wrapped her arms around me, holding me like she used to when we were kids and I had nightmares.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't. The tears had dried by the time we got to her car, but the ache in my chest felt like it had carved itself into my bones.
We drove in silence.
She brought me to her apartment off-campus. No questions, no lectures. Just silence and soft music playing from her speakers while she made me tea.
"I don't need you to talk right now," she said, placing the warm mug in front of me, "but I need you to drink this."
I nodded weakly. I took a sip. It tasted like chamomile and cinnamon and something comforting. She sat across from me, legs folded under her, her expression patient and quiet.
Finally, I broke the silence. "He was the one who sent the photos."
Her face tightened, just slightly, but she didn't interrupt.
"I heard him," I continued, my voice hollow. "Talking to Sienna Vale. He said 'good.' He sounded... proud."
The words left a bitter taste in my mouth. Saying them out loud made everything feel more real.
Andromeda exhaled through her nose. "I never liked him," she admitted. "But I held my tongue because you looked... happy."
I shook my head, the pain tightening in my chest. "I was happy. I thought he was different. I thought we were—" My voice cracked. "God, how could I be so stupid?"
"You weren't stupid," she said firmly. "You were brave. You gave someone a chance. He didn't deserve it. That's on him, not you."
"But it feels like I let myself down. Like I betrayed my own instincts."
She leaned forward and took my hand across the table. "You trusted. And that's not a weakness, Nyxie. That's strength. Even now—feeling this hurt and sitting in it instead of pretending you're fine—that's strength, too."
My eyes brimmed again, but I didn't let the tears fall this time. I took another sip of tea instead.
"I don't know what to do now," I admitted quietly. "How do I go back to school and face him? How do I look him in the eye when all I'll see is... the lie?"
Andromeda's voice was gentle, but certain. "You don't have to know right now. You just have to take it one step at a time. Heal first. Process. Then, when you're ready... you face him. Not for him. For you."
I stayed the night again.
The next morning, I opened my phone to dozens of unread messages—from friends, classmates, even professors asking if I was okay.
And from Luca.
I stared at his name on the screen. His messages were short, confused at first, then gradually more worried.
Hey, where are you?
You weren't in class.
Are you okay?
Talk to me, please.
I didn't reply.
I locked my phone and set it face-down on the table.
He didn't deserve a reply. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But what he did deserve—was to see the look in my eyes when he realizes exactly what he lost.
And I intended to give him that.
Even if it broke me a little on the way there.
...
I walked into school with my usual grace and confidence—chin up, shoulders back, eyes steady. To everyone else, I looked unbothered, untouchable. Just like always.
But inside, I was done pretending.
I had come to terms with everything last night. This—today—was going to be the last time I'd ever speak to Luca Valerian.
Last Night
"Mother sent me a message," I said quietly, sitting on the edge of Andromeda's bed. My voice didn't shake this time, not like earlier. I passed her my phone.
Andromeda glanced at the screen.
Nyxie, a mail arrived at the mansion. It's about your admission at Sorrel Academy. Congratulations, my darling. Don't lose this opportunity.
"She's never that sweet without a motive," she muttered.
"I'm thinking of accepting it," I said.
She looked up at me, surprise flashing in her expression. "You'd really leave Blackwood?"
I nodded. "If it means a fresh start… then yes."
She was quiet for a moment, then reached out and squeezed my hand. "I'll support whatever decision you make. But don't leave because you're running away, Nyxie. Leave because you're choosing yourself."
"I am," I whispered. "I am choosing me."
...
If anyone noticed the way my eyes lingered a little longer in the hallway, as if expecting to see him—if anyone noticed the faint puffiness that concealer couldn't entirely hide—no one said anything.
Let them talk. Let them wonder.
I had made my choice.
This was the last day Luca Valerian would ever matter.
He was leaning by the lockers when I saw him. That same casual stance. That same stupid smile that used to make my heart race and now made my stomach twist.
He straightened when he saw me, relief flooding his expression.
"Alstroemeria," he called, stepping toward me.
I stopped walking.
Right in the middle of the hallway.
Students passed by us like we were invisible. Or maybe like we were a bomb about to go off, and they didn't want to be in the blast radius.
He reached for my arm, but I stepped back, smooth and fluid. "Don't."
His brows drew together. "I've been trying to reach you. What happened?"
I tilted my head, feigning confusion. "What happened? That's what you want to ask me?"
Luca looked lost. Genuinely. Like he didn't know what I was talking about.
And maybe he didn't. Maybe he was just that good of an actor.
But it didn't matter now. This was the last time we'd be in the same space, the last time I'd look him in the eyes.
I'm leaving next week.
The thought should've hurt more, but I'd already made my peace with it.
I sighed, shaking my head as if I were dismissing a trivial matter. "Nevermind," I said, flashing him a smile. A polite, distant one. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."
I began walking away without looking back, keeping my steps purposeful, like every footfall was pushing me further away from everything that had once felt so real between us.
The day passed slowly, as if the universe itself wanted to separate us sooner rather than later. I didn't tell him. Not about my transfer, not about the photos, not about how I felt like my world had collapsed, piece by piece. I didn't even confront him about the things I'd overheard.
Maybe it was better this way. A silent, clean separation.
I had learned to protect myself, hadn't I? To put up walls when I needed to. And this was no different.
By the end of the day, I felt numb. The kind of numb you feel when you know it's over, but there's still a part of you that wishes you could hold onto it, even if it was only for a second longer.
I didn't return to class after that day. Luca kept on texting me, but I ignored it, letting the notifications pile up and leaving them unread. I was busy packing, preparing for the inevitable shift. I had already made up my mind. This was for the best.
But the silence—his absence in my life—it felt like a weight on my chest, like a pressure that I couldn't escape no matter how many boxes I packed or how many memories I tried to push away.
I stuffed clothes into my suitcase with mechanical precision, folding them as if the motion could somehow make everything else go away. But even as I tried to focus on the task at hand, my mind kept drifting back to him. To us. To everything that had fallen apart in the span of a month.
The soft ding of my phone broke the silence. A new message from Luca. I didn't need to look at it to know what it was. I had gotten so used to the way his messages would fill my screen, each one more desperate than the last.
"Alstroemeria, please. I need to talk to you."
I didn't open it.
Instead, I stared at the screen, fingers hovering over it for a moment, before I shut it off and tossed it onto the bed. I couldn't do this. I couldn't let him drag me back into the mess we'd created. The truth was—deep down, somewhere I didn't want to acknowledge—I wanted him to fight for me. But even that wasn't enough. The trust was broken. The lies were too much.
I went back to my packing, but my hands were shaking now. I hated the feeling. It wasn't just the packing—it was everything. Leaving Blackwood. Leaving Luca. Walking away from something I had thought might actually be real.
This is for the best. With a steadying breath, I walked out of my room. I was leaving behind everything I had known, but there was a quiet confidence in my step. I was walking toward the new life I had always dreamed of, the life where I could finally put myself first.