Magnetic Hearts

Old Ghosts and New Beginnings

Chris' POV

Franco and I had finally decided to take the plunge. Moving in together wasn't a decision we made lightly, but after everything we'd been through, it just felt... right. The last few weeks had been like something out of a dream, and despite all my worries, the decision to live together felt like the next natural step.

Our new apartment in Monaco had everything we needed—space, light, and a breathtaking view of the marina. The sight of the sun setting over the water was quickly becoming my favorite part of the day. Not because of the view itself, but because Franco and I would sit together, side by side, watching it as if time didn't exist.

Life felt good. Simple.

But as we unpacked boxes and settled into this new chapter, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Maybe it was the nagging insecurity that things were finally going too well.

We were just finishing up a lazy breakfast when it happened. Franco had his arm draped over the back of my chair, his hand occasionally brushing my shoulder as we sat on the balcony. I could feel his gaze lingering on me, soft and warm, the way it always was when we had these quiet moments.

I was sipping my coffee when I heard the doorbell ring, breaking the stillness.

"I'll get it," Franco said, getting up from his chair. He flashed me a quick smile before disappearing inside.

I didn't think much of it. We had deliveries all the time—furniture, appliances, or even the occasional package from a fan that Franco hadn't expected. I stayed outside, enjoying the calmness of the morning, until I heard Franco's voice from the hallway. It wasn't the usual playful tone. This was tense. Sharp.

"Who the hell are you?"

That got my attention. I set my cup down and stood up, walking inside just in time to see Franco standing at the door, his arms crossed, jaw clenched. His eyes flickered with something I hadn't seen in a long time—anger.

And standing in front of him, with that all-too-familiar smirk, was him.

Diego.

My stomach twisted into knots at the sight of my ex-boyfriend. The last person I expected to show up at my door.

"Chris," Diego said with a grin, ignoring Franco's glare. "Long time no see."

I froze, my mind racing. Of all the places and all the moments, why now? Why here?

Franco turned to look at me, his green eyes narrowing in confusion and something darker. "You know him?"

I swallowed, trying to steady my breath. "Yeah... I know him." I took a step forward, my voice firmer than I felt. "Diego, what are you doing here?"

Diego shrugged like it was the most casual thing in the world. "I heard you moved back to Monaco. Thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing."

"See how she was doing?" Franco's voice was low, dangerous. He stepped forward, putting himself between me and Diego, his shoulders stiff with tension. "You don't get to just show up here like this."

Diego's eyes flicked over Franco, sizing him up. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

Franco crossed his arms tighter. "The guy she's with now."

The words hung in the air, heavy with a tension that made my chest tighten. Diego's smirk didn't falter, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or amusement.

"Ah, I see," Diego said, his tone dripping with condescension. "Well, I didn't come here to cause trouble. Just thought we could catch up. You know, for old times' sake."

I could see Franco's hands balling into fists at his sides, the muscles in his jaw ticking with barely controlled restraint. I knew he hated this—hated the idea of my ex showing up out of nowhere, hated the fact that Diego was standing in our space. And I could see the insecurity creeping in, even if he wouldn't say it out loud.

"This isn't the time, Diego," I said firmly, stepping around Franco to face him. "You can't just show up like this. You shouldn't."

Diego raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk still in place. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He glanced at Franco again, his smile widening. "But hey, no hard feelings, right? I just wanted to check in."

Before Franco could say anything, I stepped closer, my voice low but firm. "Leave, Diego. Now."

He held up his hands again, backing toward the door. "Okay, okay. Consider me gone. But if you ever need anything, you know where to find me, Chris."

With that, he turned and left, leaving the tension thick in the air.

The door clicked shut, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. I could feel Franco next to me, his presence crackling with restrained anger, his jaw still clenched tight.

I turned to face him, my stomach twisting with guilt. "Franco..."

He didn't say anything at first, his eyes still fixed on the door where Diego had just left. When he finally turned to look at me, his gaze was filled with a mixture of confusion, jealousy, and something else. Something that made my heart ache.

"Why didn't you tell me about him?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I swallowed, my chest tight. "There wasn't anything to tell. He's just... from my past."

Franco's eyes darkened, his hand running through his hair in frustration. "He showed up here like he still has some kind of claim on you, Chris. You think that's nothing?"

I stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. "He doesn't have a claim on me. Not anymore."

Franco shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I just don't like the way he looked at you. Like he thought he still had a chance."

I let out a soft sigh, stepping closer until I was right in front of him. "Franco, listen to me. You are the one I'm with. You're the one I want to be with. Diego is nothing. He's just a ghost from my past, and he doesn't mean anything to me anymore."

Franco looked down at me, his eyes searching mine for any trace of doubt. I could see the insecurity flickering in his gaze, the worry that he wasn't enough, that maybe my past with Diego was still lingering somewhere in the corners of my mind.

But it wasn't. It never would.

I reached up, cupping his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. "You don't have to be jealous. I'm here, with you, because I want to be. Not because of anyone else."

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath, and I felt some of the tension leave his body. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer until our foreheads were resting against each other.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice softer now. "I just... seeing him made me feel like I could lose you."

I pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. "You're not going to lose me, Franco. I'm not going anywhere."

Franco let out a soft breath, his grip on me tightening slightly as if to reassure himself that I was still there, still his. He kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands sliding up my back as he held me close.

And in that moment, I knew that whatever ghosts from my past tried to show up, it wouldn't matter. Franco was my present, my future.

And no one else could ever change that.