What We Left in the Dark

Forty One

That night, I slipped into the guest room of Luca's apartment, letting the door click shut behind me with a sense of finality. The space was unfamiliar, sleek and modern like the rest of his apartment, yet it felt like a temporary refuge, a place where I could momentarily disconnect from the whirlwind that had become my life. I needed distance—physical and emotional—from the Ricci brothers, to carve out a space where I could just breathe and think.

The bed was large and inviting, but as I lay down, my mind refused to rest. Guilt gnawed at me, settling deep in my chest like a heavy stone. The sheets felt too cold, the silence too loud. I turned over, then again, unable to shake the dissonance that had settled between my heart and mind. I wanted to shut it all out—Gian, Luca, the note, the danger—but the turmoil played on a loop, feeding off my restlessness.

I stared up at the ceiling, the moonlight spilling through the blinds casting shadows across the room. Gian's face was the first to creep into my mind. He was the boy who had owned my heart, who had loved me in ways no one else had. But that was years ago. The man he had become—hardened, dangerous—was not the same person I had fallen for. His love was intense, consuming, but it scared me now in ways I couldn't fully articulate. He wasn't the Gian I had built a life around in my youth. He was someone darker, someone I wasn't sure I could love again.

And then there was Luca. Steady, calculating Luca. He was the safer option, wasn't he? He made me feel protected, cherished even, but there was always a shadow of guilt that came with being close to him. His affections stirred something in me, but it also felt like a betrayal—of Gian, of our history, of what we once had. Luca's love was quieter, more stable, but that didn't make it any less complicated. If I allowed myself to fall for him, what would that mean for everything that came before? Could I forgive myself for choosing his brother?

Torn between the two men, I couldn't help but feel disgusted with myself. It felt selfish—this back and forth, this indecision. It wasn't fair to either of them, and it wasn't fair to me. I wasn't sure how I had ended up here, stuck in this emotional tug of war between two brothers, but the weight of it was suffocating.

I wanted clarity, needed it, but every time I tried to untangle my feelings, the threads became more knotted. How could I choose between them? And did I even want to?

The room felt even colder now, the walls closing in on me as I tried to make sense of the chaos in my heart. I didn't love Gian the way I once had, but that didn't mean I had stopped caring for him. And Luca... there was something between us, something I hadn't expected to develop. But the idea of moving forward with him felt like crossing a line I wasn't ready to approach, a line that would sever any hope of reconciliation with Gian.

The night stretched on, the hours dragging painfully slow as I wrestled with my thoughts. I knew I couldn't stay in this limbo forever. Sooner or later, I would have to make a choice, to define where my heart truly lay. But tonight wasn't the night for answers.

I turned onto my side, curling up under the covers, seeking some semblance of comfort from the soft bedding. My thoughts were still a storm, but exhaustion was finally pulling me under. The questions could wait until morning. For now, I just needed sleep.

As my eyelids fluttered shut, I whispered to myself the only truth I could hold onto at the moment: I had to get out of this mess. One way or another, I had to find a way to walk away—whether that meant from Gian, from Luca, or from both of them.

Sleep finally took me, though it wasn't peaceful. Even in my dreams, the Ricci brothers lingered, tangled in my heart like a knot I didn't know how to unravel.

The morning came with the sound of clattering dishes echoing from the kitchen. I stirred, my mind still foggy from the restless night I'd endured. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but the sleek decor of the guest room quickly reminded me: Luca's apartment. I threw off the covers, rubbing my eyes as I padded toward the kitchen, curious about the noise.