What We Left in the Dark

Thirty Nine

I woke up the next morning, feeling the cold seep into my back. The bed next to me was empty, save for the dent in the mattress, a lingering reminder that someone had once been there. I ran my hand over the sheets, noticing how cool they had become, telling me that Gian had left long before I'd woken up.

My mind wandered to the night before, how we had fallen asleep in each other's arms, our bodies intertwined in a way that felt so natural, yet so foreign. His touch had been familiar—reminiscent of the boy I'd fallen in love with—but the man who held me through the night was a stranger.

Sighing, I sat up, the weight of everything crashing down on me. It was impossible to ignore the shift in my reality—the constant tug-of-war between what I once knew and what my life had become. I needed to get a grip, to focus. There were things I had neglected, important things, and work was at the top of that list. The distractions of recent events had caused me to fall behind, and that was something I refused to let spiral out of control.

I grabbed my laptop and nestled into the soft velvet of my couch, the comfort of the fabric grounding me as I opened my inbox. As I sifted through emails, my focus sharpened. For a while, I managed to lose myself in the familiar rhythm of my work—responding to clients, drafting legal documents, and making headway on pending cases. The stability of my job was a welcome distraction from the chaos of the past few days.

But after an hour or so, the walls of my apartment began to feel stifling, the weight of recent memories pressing in on me. I needed a change of scenery, something to shake the thoughts loose. Packing up my laptop, I decided to head downstairs to the coffee shop across from my building. It was one of my favorite spots—a cozy corner café with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans always wafting through the air.

Settling into a small table by the window, I ordered a latte and opened my laptop. The warm hum of chatter and the clinking of cups helped drown out the internal noise, and I once again focused on my work. I managed to get through a few emails before my bladder demanded attention. Torn, I debated whether to pack everything up just for a quick trip to the restroom, but ultimately decided to leave my things as they were, trusting the quaintness of the café and the strangers around me to keep my belongings safe.

When I returned from the bathroom, a folded piece of paper lay on top of my laptop. My heart skipped a beat as I sat down, staring at it. I hadn't noticed anyone near my table when I left, and the idea that someone had approached while I was gone left me unnerved. Slowly, I unfolded the paper, my fingers trembling slightly as I read the message scrawled across the page.

"Keep your distance from Giancarlo."

A cold chill washed over me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. But as the fear settled in, it was quickly replaced by something unexpected: anger. A low chuckle escaped my lips, surprising even myself. Who did they think they were, threatening me like this? Did they honestly believe I was someone who would be scared into submission? Fight or flight had always been instinctual for me, but in this moment, my body burned with fight.

I scanned the room, my eyes narrowing as I tried to make sense of who might have left the note. The older ladies chatting over tea in the corner? Unlikely. A mother with a baby in a stroller? Not possible. I couldn't pinpoint anyone suspicious, and the mystery only fueled my anger further.

The threat felt like an invitation to leave, and I wasn't about to ignore it. I quickly packed up my things, left the café, and headed back to the confines of my apartment, my mind racing. As I paced my living room, my emotions boiled beneath the surface—fear, anger, frustration. I needed to figure out who was behind this, but I also needed to be smart about how I moved forward.

My phone felt heavy in my hand as I contemplated my next move. There was only one person I trusted more than anyone else right now. The person who had been by my side, who had made it clear that he would protect me.

I opened my messages and quickly typed, "Luca, can you call me?"

The text hovered on my screen for a moment before I hit send. I didn't have to wait long before my phone buzzed with an incoming call. Luca's name flashed across the screen, and I answered, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Cat? What's wrong?" His voice was tense, and I could hear the concern in his tone immediately.

"I... I got a note," I said, my voice steady but laced with frustration. "It was left on my laptop at the café. It said to stay away from Giancarlo."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I could hear Luca's breathing, the subtle tension in the air between us growing.

"Do you think someone's following you?" Luca's voice was low now, controlled, but I could hear the edge of protectiveness beneath it.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I'm not going to be intimidated by some coward leaving threats on my stuff. I just don't know what to do next."

"I'm coming over," Luca said immediately. "We'll figure this out together."

I exhaled, feeling some of the weight lift off my shoulders. "Okay. Just... be careful."

"I will. Sit tight, Cat. I'll be there soon."

I moved to the window, pulling the curtains back slightly and glancing down at the street below. My apartment, which had once felt like a safe haven, now felt like a fragile fortress. The world outside looked the same, but everything had changed for me.