Make Me Moan, Daddy-Chapter 33

REINA

To my queen,

I know it hasn’t been easy for you to go back, but I’m proud of you. You’ve always had dreams bigger than this city, bigger than me, and I want you to chase them without fear. This is a new start, for you, for us. The key belongs to a small apartment near your campus. You don’t have to drive back every night, especially when you’re tired. There’s also a new car registered in your name. Calestino will show you everything.

You deserve comfort, and I’ll make sure you have it. Always.

Yours, always,

Paolo.

My hands trembled as I read it. I stared at the key, at my name engraved on the chain, and I couldn’t stop the tears that gathered in my eyes. I blinked them away quickly before Calestino could notice, but he already had.

I couldn’t believe Paolo could be so thoughtful.

Even after everything—after the silence between us, the distance, the things I’d done that he didn’t know about—he still found a way to make me feel loved.

I sat there in the passenger seat, staring at the silver key in my palm, the little engraved tag catching the sunlight. My name shimmered faintly against the metal, almost taunting me.

It should’ve made me happy.

Instead, my chest ached.

The car was still parked in front of the university gate. Students walked past, laughter and conversation floating through the morning air, but everything felt muffled, like the world was moving without me. I was still holding Paolo’s letter when my phone began to vibrate in my lap.

His name flashed across the screen and I felt my heart skipped a beat.

For a heartbeat, I froze. Then I swiped to answer. "H... hi."

"Finally." His voice came through soft, tired, but laced with something like relief. "I was starting to think you were mad at me."

My throat tightened. "Mad? No, I— I’ve just been busy."

"With what?" he asked lightly, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"School," I lied. "I was sorting out a few things." I glanced up to stare at Calestino, as if I was ready to hear him call me out on my bullshit, but he wasn’t looking in my direction.

Paolo exhaled on the other end, a quiet sound that carried through the line. "You should’ve called me back yesterday."

"I know," I whispered, keep staring at Calestino, who was pretending not to listen. Even though I knew he was. "I’m sorry."

"It’s fine," he said. Then, after a small pause, his tone brightened a little. "So? Do you like it?"

I blinked. "The apartment?"

He chuckled. "The apartment. The car. The letter. Everything." I could hear the excitement in his tone. "I... I couldn’t think of a better gift, I’m sorry."

I smiled faintly despite the guilt curling in my chest. "I love it, Paolo. It’s beautiful. Thank you."

"I wanted you to have something that’s yours," he said quietly. "Something that makes life easier. You’ve been through enough lately. It’s all my fault."

The sincerity in his voice was almost too much to bear. My fingers tightened around the key.

"You didn’t have to," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to," he replied, and for a moment, there was silence, soft, comfortable silence that used to mean safety. "Maybe when I get back, we can go on a date. It’s almost our anniversary, you know."

A weak smile tugged at my lips. God, I was such a terrible person, I couldn’t believe I had totally forgotten about our wedding anniversary that was coming up in few weeks.

"I know." I said, lying through my teeth.

These days, lying had become easy—easier than breathing itself. It slipped off my tongue like second nature, smooth and effortless, as if the truth had grown too heavy to carry anymore.

I could smile while my heart ached, speak while choking on guilt, and no one would notice. The lie fit so perfectly now, it almost felt like it belonged to me.

"Good. Then it’s settled." Paolo let out a deep grunt.

But something in his tone shifted. The smile faded from my voice. I frowned, listening closely. "Paolo? Are you okay?"

He hesitated. I could hear movement on the other end, the sound of his breath catching slightly. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "I’m fine."

He wasn’t. I could hear it, the strain, the effort to sound normal. "You don’t sound fine."

"Don’t worry about me," he said softly. "Focus on your studies, alright? That’s what matters. If you’re too tired to drive home after class, just stay at the new place. That’s why I got it for you. It’s a long drive back home, almost two hours."

I bit my lip, trying to swallow down the tightness in my throat. "Okay."

"Promise me?"

"Promise," I said, the word coming out like a lie. Because I knew I would always drive back home. Not just because I loved it at home, but because someone would be waiting for me.

Something my husband wouldn’t want to know.

He sighed, the kind of sigh that came after a long day. "That’s my girl. I’ll call you again tonight."

"Alright."

"I love you, Reina."

The words hung there, fragile and real. It took everything in me to say them back. "I love you too."

When the call ended, I sat there for a long time, staring at the dark screen of my phone. My reflection stared back at me, the same face, the same eyes, but I felt like a stranger in my own skin.

I turned slowly, finding Calestino watching me. His gaze wasn’t harsh, but there was something sad in it, something heavy.

"He really loves you," he said quietly. "You know that, right?"

I nodded weakly. "I know."

He hesitated for a second, then added, "Don’t betray that love, Reina. Paolo’s... different. You’re the first woman he’s ever been with. The only one."

I froze.

The only one.

The weight of those words pressed against my chest, sharp and unforgiving. I didn’t know what to do with that kind of truth. It made me feel smaller somehow, undeserving, guilty in ways I didn’t have words for.

I turned away, blinking hard as my eyes stung. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don’t want to see either of you hurt," he said simply. "He’s my friend, my boss, and also like the brother I never had. And you are... I really care about you."

The air in the car felt thick again. I stared at the key in my palm, at the symbol of love and trust from the man I’d vowed to spend my life with, and all I could think about was how I’d broken both without even trying.

I pressed the key against my chest as I stepped out of the car, and then whispered to myself, "I didn’t mean to."

Calestino didn’t respond. He just started the engine again, his silence speaking louder than anything else could.

And as the car pulled away, all I could think about was Paolo’s voice. Soft, loving, trusting, and how I’d have to look him in the eye one day and pretend that nothing had changed.

But everything had.