The Girl He Called Practice

Kiera Case POV:

Tuscany was a blur of sun-drenched vineyards, ancient stone villas, and endless, vibrant conversations with Chloe. I threw myself into every activity, every sight, every new experience. I hiked for miles, sketched architectural wonders, learned to make pasta from scratch, and danced until my feet ached. I kept my phone on airplane mode most of the time, only checking messages when Chloe insisted. I never unblocked Felix. Not even once.

Chloe, bless her, tried her best to shield me from any news of him. But sometimes, when she was scrolling through her feed, a fleeting glimpse would appear. Felix and Bella, arm in arm, strolling through a market in Capri, her impossibly long legs in designer shorts. Felix and Bella, laughing over a candlelit dinner, her hand clasped in his. Felix and Bella, on a yacht in the Mediterranean, her body draped against his in a bikini. Each image was a tiny, sharp pinprick, a reminder of the life he was so effortlessly living without me.

He was posting constantly now, far more than he ever did before. Every picture, every caption, screamed their coupledom, their lavish, exciting life. He was flaunting her, flaunting his supposed happiness. It stung, of course. It proved how quickly he' d moved on, how little I' d meant.

"Why aren' t you in any of Felix' s photos anymore?" a comment from a mutual acquaintance popped up on Chloe's phone one day, underneath a picture of Felix and Bella.

Chloe quickly scrolled past it, but the words echoed in my head. My answer, a practiced, polite one, was always ready. "Oh, I' m traveling with Chloe. Different schedules, you know." It was a half-truth, a convenient shield.

Even though I' d vowed to be free, to move on, the mention of his name, the sight of his face, still sent a cold shiver down my spine. It was like a phantom limb, an ache where something used to be, even though I knew it was better gone. It just takes time, I told myself, gazing out at the endless rolling hills of Tuscany. It just takes time to heal.

Weeks turned into months. The calls from blocked numbers eventually stopped. The social media posts became less frequent, or perhaps I just stopped looking. I was too busy living, breathing, building. The ache had dulled, replaced by a quiet sense of peace. I could go a full day, sometimes even two, without thinking of him at all. It was a victory, small but significant. I started to truly see the beauty of my surroundings, the intricate patterns of the old architecture, the vibrant colors of the landscape. My mind, once so consumed by Felix, was finally free to wander, to explore, to create.

Then, one afternoon, as I was sketching a crumbling Roman aqueduct, my phone, which I'd nearly forgotten, rang. It was an unfamiliar number. My heart skipped a beat, a flicker of the old fear. I almost didn't answer. But something compelled me.

"Hello?"

"Kiera?" Felix' s voice, distorted by the bad connection, was unmistakable. He sounded… agitated. "Where the hell are you? What is going on? Why did you just disappear? Why did you change your number again?"

My hand tightened around the phone. "I' m on a trip, Felix. I told you."

"A trip? For months? Kiera, what about Columbia? What about our plans? You were supposed to be there, getting ready. Your acceptance letter to Stanford came through, I saw it in the mail! Your parents told me you were still going to Columbia!" He sounded genuinely bewildered, almost hurt. There was a raw, unfamiliar edge to his voice, an undercurrent of something that sounded like… insecurity?

"My parents didn' t know," I said calmly, deliberately withholding any other information. "And my plans changed. I accepted Stanford' s offer."

A stunned silence followed. Then, his voice, when it came, was laced with disbelief, almost a plea. "Stanford? Kiera, why? We had everything planned. Our apartments were practically next door. I even got you those new architectural design software upgrades, as a surprise. I was going to help you settle in, show you around…"

He was trying to lure me back, with promises and gifts, with the illusion of a shared future. The familiar manipulation, only this time, it felt hollow. He was talking about his plans, his surprises, not mine.

"I' m not coming back, Felix," I stated, my voice firm. "I' m flying directly to Stanford from here."

"You can' t be serious, Kiera!" His voice rose, tinged with anger. "After everything? After all these years? You' re just going to throw it all away? For what? Some… some school across the country?"

"It' s my choice, Felix," I retorted, a spark of defiance igniting within me. "I have the right to choose my own path."

"You' re being ridiculous!" he snapped. "You' re being cold! You' re being… ungrateful! If you don' t come back, Kiera, don' t ever bother coming back into my life. Don' t ever look for me again."

The line went dead. He' d hung up on me. Again.

I stared at the phone for a long moment, then slowly, deliberately, I added his new number to my blocked list. It was a lie, of course. I was going home first, to see my parents and pack for California. But he didn' t need to know that. He didn' t need to know anything anymore.

A few days later, my father called, his voice beaming. "Kiera! Your scholarship to Stanford has been officially confirmed! They' ve processed your acceptance! Mrs. Henderson found the updated documents in your mail."

My heart swelled with a mixture of pride and relief. "That' s wonderful, Dad."

There was a pause. Then, my mother' s voice, gentle but firm, came over the line. "Kiera, darling, why didn' t you tell us you were changing your university? We were so worried. Felix has been calling, asking where you are, why you haven' t called him back. He seemed so confused."

A sigh escaped me. The truth, finally. It was time. "Mom, Dad," I began, my voice soft but steady. "I need to tell you something. I' m not going to Columbia. I' m going to Stanford. And… and Felix and I are over. We have been for a while."

I poured out the story, carefully omitting the more painful details of his French dismissal, but conveying the essence of his betrayal, his casual disregard, his view of me as a convenience. I spoke of my need to build my own life, to step out of his shadow, to finally choose my own dreams, not just ones that aligned with his.

"I need to do this for myself," I explained, my voice thick with emotion. "I need to prove that I can stand on my own, away from all of… that. Away from him. Chloe will be there too, so I won' t be completely alone."

My parents listened in stunned silence. When I finished, my mother was crying softly. My father, usually so stoic, cleared his throat repeatedly.

"My brave girl," my father finally said, his voice husky. "We… we are so proud of you, Kiera. This is a big step. A hard one. But we understand. We just want you to be happy."

"And safe," my mother added, her voice still trembling. "But if this is what you need, honey, then we support you. Unconditionally."

"There' s just one more thing," I said, looking out at the Tuscan hills, a new resolve hardening my voice. "Please, don' t tell Felix. Don' t tell him about Stanford, or about me coming home first. Let him think I' m still traveling. Let him wonder. I don' t want him to know where I am, not until I' m truly ready. Can you do that for me?"

My parents exchanged a long look, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, my father nodded, his expression grim but determined. "We' ll keep your secret, Kiera. For as long as you need us to."

My mother sniffled. "Anything for you, my love. Anything."

A wave of profound gratitude washed over me. I had cut ties with one family, but my true one was still there, unwavering, supporting my flight towards an unknown, but undoubtedly brighter, future.