Breaking Point (Luca)

I needed to hit something.

Hard.

I should have been on the pitch right now, burning off the frustration, but training had been canceled last minute, and I was left with too much energy and nowhere to put it.

I drove aimlessly for a while, winding through town with the windows down, music low. My hands gripped the wheel, fingers flexing. The tightness in my chest hadn’t eased since last night. Since her message.

Not tonight.

Two words that shouldn’t have felt like a punch to the gut, but they did.

She had needed me—I could feel it through the phone, could picture her curled up in bed, wrapped up in whatever storm had been raging in her head—but she hadn’t let me in.

I knew better than to push.

Sienna was like that. Careful. Controlled. Always keeping just enough distance, always holding something back.

And fuck if I wasn’t desperate to get past that wall.

I pulled into my driveway and killed the engine, my knee bouncing as I sat in the quiet. The house was lit up, laughter spilling from the kitchen window. My dad’s voice boomed, followed by my mother’s laughter, and then the unmistakable sound of Aaron and the lads throwing insults at each other.

I let my head fall back against the seat, exhaling slowly.

This house had always been a safe place, a home where nothing felt forced, where people wanted to be. I didn’t take that for granted. I knew how rare it was.

But tonight, it just made me think about her.

Sienna didn’t have this.

She had a house, a family, but not like this.

I climbed out of the car and headed inside, bracing myself for impact.

The second I stepped into the kitchen, Aaron—who had been in the middle of taking a bite of his sandwich—grinned. “Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

“Fuck off,” I muttered, making a beeline for the fridge.

Mum shot me a warning look from across the kitchen. “Language, Luca.”

I grabbed a bottle of water and twisted off the cap. “Sorry, Ma.”

She hummed, clearly not convinced, and turned back to whatever she was cooking.

Dad was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching me. “Something wrong?”

I swallowed half the bottle before answering. “Just a long day.”

He nodded, like he knew there was more to it but wasn’t going to push. That was the thing about my dad—he had a way of getting you to talk without actually asking anything.

Aaron, on the other hand, had no such tact.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

I shot him a glare. “It’s none of your business.”

He smirked. “So, it is a girl.”

Mum perked up instantly, turning away from the stove. “What girl?”

I groaned. “Jesus Christ.”

Aaron leaned forward, grinning like an idiot. “Oh, this is excellent. Luca never brings girls around.” He turned to Mum. “I was starting to think he was secretly celibate.”

Mum gave him a withering look. “Don’t be crude, Aaron.”

Dad fought back a smirk. “He’s not wrong, though.”

I let out a breath. “Can we not do this right now?”

Mum eyed me for a long moment before softening. “You like her, don’t you?”

I hesitated.

Liking Sienna wasn’t even a strong enough word.

I was fucking consumed by her.

But I wasn’t about to admit that—not with Aaron sitting there, ready to pounce on any scrap of information.

Mum must have seen something in my expression, because her face lit up. “Oh, you do.”

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. “She’s just… different.”

Dad nodded. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

Aaron snorted. “Or how you know it’s going to end in disaster.”

Mum shot him another glare. “Enough.”

I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on me.

“I need to go out for a bit,” I said, pushing away from the counter.

Mum frowned. “Luca, it’s late.”

“I won’t be long.”

She hesitated, but eventually sighed. “Just be careful.”

I kissed her cheek on the way out. “Always.”

I didn’t even think twice about where I was going.

I ended up parked across the street from her house, my hands gripping the wheel, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The lights in her room were still on.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text.

Me: Look outside.

I watched as her bedroom light flickered, her shadow moving past the window before she appeared.

She pushed it open, blinking down at me. “Luca?”

Her voice was laced with exhaustion and something else. Something raw.

I climbed out of the car and crossed the street, stopping below her window. “Come down.”

She hesitated.

“Sienna.” My voice was quieter now, just for her. “Please.”

Her shoulders dropped, and then she was gone from the window.

A minute later, the front door creaked open, and she stepped outside, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked tired, fragile, like she had been carrying the weight of the world all day.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I clenched my jaw. “Okay.”

She exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. “Why are you here?”

“Because you’re not okay.”

Her breath hitched.

I didn’t give her a chance to argue. I just reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers. She let me.

“I just want to be with you,” I murmured.

She looked up at me, something breaking in her expression.

And then, before I could stop myself, before I could second-guess anything, I leaned down and kissed her.

Not just because I wanted to—because I needed to.

Because every second without her felt like a second wasted.