Twenty–one,” Murphy said softly. “You’re so young. Do you even know what love
is?”
Murphy’s gaze darkened slightly. “Have you ever considered that maybe what you feel for her isn’t actually love? Perhaps it’s because you grew up without a mother and you’ve developed an emotional attachment to an older, nurturing figure. Maybe
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Chapter 18
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you’re just too young to distinguish between affection and romantic love.”
These were the very words Murphy had wanted to say to Gemma.
Gemma was so young. She was only 18. Did she truly understand what love was?
Murphy had refused her back then because he feared she was confusing love with dependency. Young people would often mistake admiration or attachment for romantic feelings, especially when it involved someone older.
“Sir, just because I’m young doesn’t mean I’m stupid!” the young man retorted, his voice brimming with indignation. “Why do you older folks always assume we don’t know what we’re feeling? We’re not clueless. We know what love is! And by the way, I’m a biology student at Telford University. I can tell you with full confidence that young people might actually understand love better than you do.
“We’re young, our bodies are healthy, and when we meet someone we like, we release more hormones! That means our love is hotter, more reckless, and more passionate than yours. But that doesn’t make us foolish–it just makes our love purer!”
His words left Murphy momentarily speechless.
He had always thought of young people as immature, impulsive, and incapable of understanding love. Yet at that moment, he realized the truth–the one who did not understand love was him.
Rationality? Restraint? When you truly loved someone, none of that mattered.
Love would come like a tidal wave, washing away all sense of reason.
All his self–control and carefully maintained composure seemed laughable now.
“I’m sorry,” Murphy finally said. “I shouldn’t have questioned your feelings for her. She’s lucky to have someone like you in her life.”
The young man’s face flushed red, and he shook his head shyly. “No, I should say I’m the lucky one for having her in mine.”
Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.
