At the three month point in our relationship, my mum and his had just signed a contract for a new project. I had done more than a few shoots for her, which took time out of school, but she didn't care. I didn't enjoy modelling, but I enjoyed spending time with my mum. Even if it was as her employee, I grabbed onto the tiny crumbs she fed me.
Until one day, Luca and I had gotten into an argument. He'd thought I was staring suggestively at some guy in the cafe we were sitting at, and gave me hell over it. At the time, I actually had a backbone, so I didn't take any of it. When I got home however, my mum was waiting for me. Dressed as if she was at the office, with her hair slicked back and face tight.
"You're back early." She'd commented, watching me closely.
"Luca and I got into a minor argument, so I left. I think I'm going to head to bed early-"
"What did you argue about?" She'd cut me off, surprising me. My mum rarely had time for trivial events that happened in my life. I'd told her every detail, eager to hear her advice on how to handle the situation. Luca's outburst was unjustified and dramatic, and extremely off-putting. 
He'd been perfect up until then, gifting me with something new weekly for the first month of us being official. But the incident at the cafe showed me a glimpse of who he really was. And I didn't want anything to do with it. 
Once I was finished, my mum surveyed me with the dark eyes I'd inherited from her. Brown, but too dark to actually make out the colour. 
"You need to apologise to him."
That had been the last thing I'd expected to hear. After a moment of confused silence, I asked for clarification. "Mum, he completely embarrassed me and said things that are not only insulting, but false. Why would I apologise?"
She'd moved closer, a sneer on her face. "Because, my selfish daughter, I'm about to begin a project with his mum that could enhance my career in a very big way. I don't need you messing it up because you're too sensitive."
How could I describe how I felt at that moment?
What was more painful, having ice cold water or scalding hot water poured over you? Whichever of the two is worse, or maybe a combination of both, is the sensation that overcame my body at her words. 
"W-what?"
"Your actions no longer affect just you, Fallon. I warned you when we first moved here you'd have to change. You're just like your father, allowing yourself to care too much and get hurt over things. Lucas got angry, but so does everyone. You will not jeopardise your relationship over a small mishap." 
She placed her hand over mine. "When have I ever asked you for anything, Fallon? Please, fix things with him. Do it for me."
"So when he messes up, I have to be the one to make amends?
"As long as our families are connected business wise, you will have to remain with him. You can feel whatever you want, but if it's bad, you can never show it, yes? No one wants to see it. Just..." My mum clicked her manicured fingers, thinking. "What's the phrase in english? Ah, yes. Please and appease."
She looked at me earnestly. "Because you love me, you will."
At my uncertain look, she carried on. "You do love me?"
"Of course, mum."
She'd patted my knee and stood up. "Then let this be the last time I hear of any conflict between you two. I'll be designing for the rest of the evening, so don't disturb me."
As she left me alone, I'd taken in the spacious living room. Expensive paintings, a high ceiling and marble floor. A much more beautiful home than the one we moved from.