The Man Who Never Let Go
1474 Words
The silence between us is thick, crushing, and worse than any fight.
Daniel stands in the doorway of our bedroom, the glow of my phone screen still casting a guilty light across my face. The voice note I just played—Luca’s voice—still echoes in my ears.
I shut the journal quickly, like a child caught with something forbidden, but it’s too late. He saw it. He heard it. And he’s not saying a damn word.
“Daniel…” I whisper, standing slowly, heart beating like it might give out. “It’s not what you think.”
He lifts a brow. “No? Because I think I just heard a man tell my wife he never stopped wanting her.”
His voice is quiet. But the kind of quiet that terrifies me.
“I—I didn’t answer him. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He steps into the room now, slow and measured, arms crossed over his chest like he’s bracing for impact. “But you wanted to.” His gaze drops to the leather journal in my hand. “You were going to.”
A sharp breath escapes me. “It’s not that simple—”
“You were going to meet him tomorrow.”
I look down. The floor is safer than his eyes.
“Ari…” He sighs, and for the first time in months, there’s pain in his voice. Not just frustration and definitely not detachment. Hurt. “Do you still love me?”
I should say yes. I should shout it, even if it’s shaky. Even if I’m confused. Because he deserves that much. But the silence between us answers for me. And that silence is a betrayal.
His jaw clenches. “You know, I’ve worked my ass off to give you everything—this house, your studio, the safety. And I was okay being your second love because I thought I had your present.”
“You do!” I step forward, reaching out, but he steps back.
“No, Ari. I don’t think I ever did.” His eyes meet mine. “Not completely.”
A moment passes. Then two. He turns away and walks out of the room. And just like that, the world tilts. Not into chaos… but into something worse.
Clarity.
I drop to the bed, shaking, tears blurring my vision. What the hell am I doing?
Daniel is a good man. A steady man. The kind who keeps his promises, even when the world burns around him. But here I am… aching for someone who already burned me once. Luca Black. God help me. Took long before I slept.
The next morning, Daniel is gone before sunrise. His side of the bed is cold. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air, but the warmth? The intimacy? Gone.
I make coffee with hands that can barely hold the mug. I couldn't even drink it. I just sit by the window, watching the clouds roll over the city.
At 2:00 PM, I’m still in the same chair. At 2:45, I find myself in the shower, scrubbing too hard. My skin is red. Raw.
At 3:00 PM sharp, I’m standing in front of the bookstore on 9th Avenue. The last place he touched me, ten years ago, it was a run-down corner shop. Now it’s a fancy rooftop café with glass walls and overpriced desserts. I step inside like I’m walking into a dream, or rather a mistake. And then I see him. Luca.
God. He’s real.
He sits at the far table near the window, black shirt rolled at the sleeves, jaw dusted with stubble, that same intense gaze scanning the street like he’s waiting for a ghost.
And I guess, in a way, he is. He hasn’t seen me yet. I could still turn around, walk away, go back to Daniel, pretend this never happened. Bury this curiosity, this ache, this danger. But my feet move before my brain decides. And suddenly—I’m in front of him. His head turns. And those eyes… green, wild, familiar.
“Baby girl,” he breathes, standing slowly.
I don’t speak, neither need to. He pulls out the chair across from him, and I sit like it’s the most natural thing in the world. We stare at each other for a few seconds, maybe longer. He’s still beautiful. But not perfect. There’s a small scar by his temple now. More lines around his mouth. A sadness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
“Ten years,” I say finally.
“I counted every one.”
“You disappeared.” I said again, sharper now.
“You married someone else.” he said.
Deep down... Touché — I acknowledged he won the discussion.
I fold my arms. “You had no right to text me like that. Not after all this time.”
He leans in, elbows on the table, gaze locked on mine. “I didn’t come to blow up your life, Ari. I came to ask you something I should’ve asked a decade ago.”
“What?”
He takes a breath. “Why didn’t you come with me?”
The question slices through me.
“I waited for you,” he continues. “At that station. With two tickets to Florence. One for me, one for you. I watched that train leave without you.”
I swallow hard, throat burning. “Because I was scared, Luca. Because I was twenty-three and stupid. Because loving you felt like standing too close to fire.”
He laughs bitterly. “And marrying Daniel was safer?”
“Yes,” I admit. “And boring, and numb, and peaceful.”
His hand reaches across the table. I flinch, but didn't pull away.
He brushes my fingers gently. “I’m not asking you to destroy your marriage, Ari. I’m asking you to admit you’re not done with us.”
A silence falls.
I stare at his hand on mine. And I feel it: that charge, that fire, the same one that made me write pages of him in a journal no one ever saw.
“I’m not,” I whisper.
Luca exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. “Then let me show you who I am now. Let me show you what we never finished.”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes. A message from Daniel.
// We need to talk. Tonight. Don’t lie to me again.
My stomach turns.
Luca reads my face. “Him?”
I nod.
He leans back. “Then go. Talk. Be honest.”
“You really think honesty will save anything?”
“No.” He smiles faintly. “But lies already cost you ten years. Don’t give them another ten.”
I rise from the table, torn in half. My body still electric and my mind a mess. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confess.
Luca stands too, towering over me. “Then just… feel. I’ll be here. When you’re ready.”
I walk away, not because I want to—but because I have to.
*****
Back home, the apartment is silent.
Daniel sits at the edge of the couch. He’s holding the journal.
Open.
I stop breathing.
He looks up, eyes darker than I’ve ever seen. “I read everything.”
Oh god.
He rises slowly, holding a page out. My handwriting. The page that started with Luca’s mouth tasted like sin and surrender. I shake my head. “Daniel, I—”
“Don’t. Don’t insult me with another lie.”
My throat tightens. “I didn’t sleep with him.”
“But you wanted to.”
Tears well in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He drops the journal on the floor, the pages fanning out like fallen flower petals.
“I gave you all of me, Ari. Every piece. And I never once thought to wonder if I was competing with a ghost.”
“He’s not a ghost.”
“Exactly,” Daniel snaps. “He’s real. And he’s back. And you’re going to have to choose.”
I blink. “What?”
His voice is steel. “You don’t get to keep both of us. So figure it out.”
“I—I need time.”
He steps forward. “No, you don’t. You’ve had years to bury him. And you didn’t. That tells me everything.”
“I still love you.”
“Then why do you still ache for him?”
Silence. He grabs his coat. “I’m staying at the hospital tonight. Don’t call me unless you’ve made a decision.”
He walks out. And just like that, my safe, structured world breaks apart. One man walked away from me ten years ago. Now the other just did too.
- Writer
