Torn Between Flames
1375 Words
The silence after the storm was louder than the shouting had been. Vivienne stood in the middle of her living room, her pulse still racing, while Damien and Luca watched her as if each were waiting for her to choose. The weight of their gazes was unbearable, like standing at the centre of a battlefield where she was both prize and collateral damage.
She broke first, moving past them both. “Get out,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the strain.
Neither man moved.
“I said get out.” She turned, fire blazing in her eyes now, fury the only armour she had left.
Damien’s jaw tightened, but it was Luca who stepped forward. His voice was calm, but his eyes carried a raw quality, one that hurt to see. “Vivienne—”
“No.” She cut him off sharply. “I can’t… I can’t breathe with both of you standing here, pulling me apart like I’m some possession. You need to leave.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Damien’s fists clenched at his sides, a muscle twitching in his jaw, but after a long moment, he stalked to the door. His footsteps were heavy and angry, but he didn’t say another word. The slam of the door echoed like a gunshot.
Luca lingered. He didn’t move toward her, didn’t speak immediately. He just stood there, his eyes searching her face as though memorising her pain.
“Vivienne…” His voice was softer now, almost pleading.
Her throat burned. “Please, Luca. Don’t make me beg.”
For a second, she thought he might fight her on it, that he might refuse to leave until she gave him something—an answer, a promise, a piece of her heart. But then his shoulders lowered, and with a quiet nod, he turned and walked out.
The door closed with a gentleness that broke her more than Damien’s slam had.
---
Alone. Finally, utterly alone.
Vivienne pressed her palms against her face, hot tears spilling through her fingers. The sob tore from her chest before she could stop it, and soon she was collapsing onto the couch, clutching a cushion as though it could hold her together.
What was happening to her? She had promised herself she wouldn’t fall again—not after Adrian. And yet, she was caught in the fire of two men who were supposed to be untouchable. Her brother’s best friends. Men who carried their own shadows, their own dangers. Men who looked at her like she was the answer to a question they hadn’t dared to ask.
She couldn’t handle it.
The night blurred. She poured herself a drink and finally sipped, the wine burning down her throat like acid. She sat in silence for hours, her mind replaying every glance, every touch. Luca’s hand on her cheek. Damien’s furious voice. Adrian’s regretful eyes.
By the time dawn began to filter through her curtains, she hadn’t slept. Her body was exhausted, but her mind buzzed, too sharp, too alive with thoughts she couldn’t silence.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She stared at it for a long moment before picking it up. A message.
Damien: I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have lost it. But don’t push me away. Not now. Not when you need someone who actually gives a damn.
Her heart squeezed painfully. Before she could stop herself, another notification lit up her screen.
Luca: I’ll give you space, as you asked. But understand something, Vivienne—I’m not going anywhere. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.
Her hand trembled as she set the phone down. Two men. Two choices. And she didn’t trust herself to make either.
---
Later that morning, Vivienne dragged herself into the shower, letting the water pound against her skin as though it could wash away the weight pressing down on her chest. When she finally stepped out, her reflection in the foggy mirror startled her. She looked tired, yes, but also different—like the mask she’d been wearing for years had cracked, leaving her raw and unguarded.
She hated it. And yet, beneath the hatred, there was a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in so long it scared her. Hope.
But hope was dangerous. Hope got you broken.
She pulled on a simple dress, tied her hair back, and made coffee she didn’t drink. Her body moved on autopilot, her mind elsewhere, until a knock at the door startled her again.
Her stomach sank. She wasn’t ready for another confrontation. But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Luca. It wasn’t Damien.
It was Adrian.
---
Her breath caught in her throat. He looked different this time—less polished, more desperate. His tie was loose, his eyes hollow as if sleep hadn’t touched him either.
“Vivienne,” he said, his voice low, heavy. “Please. Just give me five minutes.”
She froze, torn between slamming the door in his face and letting him speak. The rational part of her screamed to shut him out, but her heart—the traitor—hesitated.
Because once, not so long ago, she had loved this man more than life itself.
“What do you want, Adrian?” she asked finally, her voice flat.
“To talk. To explain.”
“There’s nothing left to explain.”
“Yes, there is.” His words rushed out, urgent, pained. “I made mistakes, Viv. I was selfish, I was blind, and I thought what I wanted mattered more than what you needed. But I never stopped loving you.”
Her chest tightened, anger flaring. “You call what you did love? Asking me to share with you? To sit back and watch you with someone else while you pretended I was still enough?”
He flinched, shame darkening his eyes. “I was wrong. I thought freedom would make me happy. It didn’t. All it did was show me how empty life is without you in it.”
Vivienne laughed bitterly. “Do you hear yourself? You didn’t realise that until after you broke me?”
His voice cracked. “I didn’t realise how much I’d already lost.”
Her throat ached. For a second—just a second—she saw the man she had once adored, the man who had made her feel safe, wanted, chosen. But then the memory of betrayal snapped her back to the present.
“You can’t come here and do this,” she whispered. “Not now. Not when I’m finally… finally trying to move forward.”
Adrian stepped closer, desperation in his gaze. “Are you moving forward, Viv? Or are you just falling into more chaos with Damien? With Luca? You think I don’t know about them?”
Her stomach dropped. “Don’t you dare—”
“They don’t care about you the way I do.” His voice rose, raw and jagged. “Luca sees you as something to save, Damien sees you as something to own. But me? I see you. The real you. I always have.”
Her eyes stung, but fury steadied her. “You saw me and still decided I wasn’t enough. Don’t you dare stand in my house and pretend you’re different.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. His jaw clenched, his eyes bright with unshed tears. Finally, he whispered, “I want another chance. Just one. To prove to you that I can be the man you deserved all along.”
Vivienne’s hands trembled at her sides. The cruel part of her wanted to laugh, to tell him he was years too late. But another part—fragile, treacherous—wondered what it would feel like to forgive.
And that terrified her more than anything.
---
The sound of her phone buzzing again broke the moment. She glanced at the screen on the counter.
Damien: I need to see you. Tonight.
Her chest tightened. She looked back at Adrian, standing there in the ruins of what they used to be, and for the first time in years, she didn’t know which ghost she feared more—the one from her past, or the ones clawing at her present.
- Writer
