Page 18 of Wrestling With Love

“And you are the solution. No matter how hard you are going to put up those walls or push me away, I'll make sure to always find my way back to you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No Diamond, that’s a promise.”

Luca pushed off the bed, standing now, hands raking through his hair as he exhaled sharply. She didn’t see the tension in his shoulders, didn’t see the way his fingers curled into fists. She was too busy building her walls back up.

He stood there, waiting, watching, but she gave him nothing.

Finally, he shook his head, grabbing his shirt.

“Fine.” He yanked it over his head, muscles flexing with restrained emotion. “You wanna run? Go ahead. But remember, you're not weak to carry the past. But you don't have to let it be the thing that decides your future.”

He didn’t slam the door when he left, but it felt like he had.

The second it shut, Diamond’s breath hitched.

The walls she’d built so carefully started to crack.

And for the first time in years, she cried.

She bit down on her lip, hands gripping her arms as she slid to the floor, shaking. The sobs tore out of her, raw and painful, no longer held back by sheer force of will. She gasped for air, but nothing filled the hollowness inside her.

She had done the right thing.

So why did it feel like she had just ripped herself apart?

***

She didn’t sleep that night.

Before dawn, Diamond sat in the empty gym, her body aching, her breath unsteady. Luca’s words still echoed in her head, but another voice—one she had spent years trying to forget—crept in, uninvited.

Her father’s voice.

"You’ll never make it."

She clenched her fists, the memory dragging her under.

Flashback***

Age 17 – Their House

She stood stiffly in their cold, pristine living room, her hands gripping the edge of the chair. Across from her, Dr. Javier Perez sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if she was nothing but a disappointment.

"You failed your exams. Again." His voice was measured, clinical, like he was diagnosing a patient rather than speaking to his own daughter.

Her mother, Dr. Camila Perez, shook her head, her disappointment cutting deeper than words. "Do you even care about your future, Diamond?"

Yes. She did. Just not the future they wanted.

Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to meet her father’s gaze. "I don’t want to be a doctor."

Her mother scoffed. "Oh, we know."

Her father’s eyes hardened. "Then what do you want, huh? Since you’re so determined to waste your life?"

Her pulse thundered in her ears, but she took a breath, gripping the chair tighter. "I want to wrestle."

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