What We Left in the Dark

Forty Seven

Luca cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between me and Gian with an intensity that seemed to cut right through the tension. He didn't say anything at first, but the look in his eyes told me he understood far more than he was letting on. Maybe he always had. He folded his arms over his chest, standing tall, a steady figure amidst the chaos swirling around us.

"I get it, Cat," he began, his voice quiet but firm. "There's... more going on here than just family messes and unfinished business. But there's something I can give you that Gian never will. A life without this constant threat hanging over you. No more looking over your shoulder, no more wondering if tonight's the night someone shows up with a grudge. With me, you get normal. A life you can trust."

His words landed like a punch, and I felt a flicker of anger spark within me. But the truth behind his words left me speechless. He was right. With Luca, there was a promise of a life that felt safe, unmarked by the shadows that seemed to cling to Gian. And yet, I couldn't deny the part of me that still clung to the past, a part that wanted to hold on to Gian and the life we'd dreamed of once.

"Luca," I whispered, struggling to find the words. "I don't know if it's that simple."

He moved closer, his hands reaching out to gently grip my arms, steadying me. His gaze softened, and I could see the genuine worry etched into his expression. "I know it's not simple," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "But you deserve a life where you're not constantly waiting for the next disaster. A life that's... stable. I can give that to you, Cat."

Gian's eyes darkened, a flash of pain crossing his face. He shifted, the anger beneath the surface simmering, but he stayed silent, watching the exchange between Luca and me with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

"And what about me, Luca?" Gian finally spoke, his voice low, a touch bitter. "What do you think I deserve?"

Luca's jaw tightened, and he looked at Gian with a seriousness that startled me. "Maybe you deserve peace, too, Gian. But not at her expense. Not when your very presence is putting her at risk."

The words stung, and I could see the effect they had on Gian as he looked down, his fists clenching and unclenching. It was as if he were waging a silent war within himself, torn between the love he held for me and the reality he couldn't change.

"Cat," Luca's voice softened as he turned back to me, his hands still resting on my arms. "You don't have to make a decision right now. I know what he means to you, and I know that's not something that just disappears. But I need you to understand what I'm offering here—a life that's free from this weight, from this danger."

A life without Gian's shadow, without the secrets and scars. The thought of it felt like a promise of relief, of freedom, but at the same time, it felt like turning my back on a piece of myself.

"I don't want to lose either of you," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But the more I'm around you both, the more I feel like that's inevitable."

Gian shifted beside me, his expression unreadable, and then, after a heavy pause, he nodded, as if coming to terms with something. "If choosing between us is what it takes to keep you safe," he said quietly, "then I'll accept it. I want you to be happy, Cat. Even if that means..." he trailed off, looking away, his voice catching.

Luca's hand moved to the small of my back, steady and comforting, and I looked between them, my heart breaking with every passing second. Here were two men, both so deeply woven into my life, each one offering a different future. And standing between them felt like standing on the edge of an abyss, the weight of it all pulling me down.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting their words sink in, letting myself feel the gravity of this impossible choice. And when I opened them, I saw two men staring back at me, both wanting the best for me, even if it tore them apart in the process.

"I don't have an answer," I whispered, my voice breaking. "But I'll stay here today. And we'll... figure it out tomorrow."

It wasn't much, but it was all I could give.

I spent the rest of the day holed up in the guest room, staring out the window as the world outside blurred into nothingness. I needed a distraction—something to pull me out of the mess of thoughts swirling in my head. But the silence was thick, and the hours stretched long, every moment pushing me deeper into the corners of my mind where I couldn't escape.

When the house finally fell quiet, and I saw the last lights flicker out, I took a breath, waiting just a few minutes more until I was sure I was alone. Quietly, I slipped from the room, my bare feet moving down the hallway without a sound. It was late now, past 2 a.m. I was careful as I moved, hyperaware of everything around me, knowing exactly where I was headed.

Gian was stretched out on the couch, asleep, his breathing steady and deep. Sometime earlier, he'd cleaned himself up, the remnants of blood and pain washed away, his face softened in sleep. I stopped just short of him, letting my eyes linger, memorizing him in this rare moment of peace. A heaviness settled in my chest as I knelt beside him, leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead, feeling the warmth of his skin, knowing it was a goodbye he'd never understand.

Every part of me wanted to stay, to let him wake up and see me there, to ask me why. But I forced myself to turn, to push the ache down as I moved to the front door, pausing for a single heartbeat before slipping outside.

When I reached the ground floor, I walked quickly, the coolness of the street wrapping around me as I distanced myself from the house, from Luca, from Gian, and from the tangled mess of feelings that had chained me there. I hadn't planned beyond this moment—I just knew I couldn't stay. 

I took a moment to quickly shut my phone off, ensuring nobody could contact me even if they wanted. 

The night was painfully quiet, and each step away felt heavier, an emptiness creeping into the spaces where their presence had been. But I kept going, pushing forward into the dark, telling myself this was what I needed. What I had to do.