It wasn't until I saw Ethan again that I realized how much I had changed.
His presence didn't feel like home anymore. It felt like a memory I was trying to hold onto, but it was slipping through my fingers, too far gone.
He walked into the room like he owned it—his familiar smirk, the same reckless energy that used to make my heart race. But now, it only made my chest tighten. The sweetness of his touch felt far away, replaced by something... different.
"Lilly." Ethan's voice was the same, full of warmth and concern. But I couldn't help but see the difference now—the distance between us was palpable.
I stood at the top of the staircase, staring down at him.
"You shouldn't be here," I said softly, not quite believing the words as they left my lips.
He looked up, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"What do you mean? I've been looking for you everywhere."
"I know."
His face hardened.
"I came to take you home, Lilly. This... this place isn't where you belong."
I couldn't answer immediately. Because I didn't know where I belonged anymore.
Behind me, I could feel the familiar weight of Johnson's presence in the room. It was like he was always there—just a shadow in the corner of my vision. His voice was quiet, but every word hit like thunder.
"She's not going anywhere, Ethan."
Ethan turned on him, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"You think you can just keep her here? She's not yours to take."
Johnson stepped forward, his movements slow, deliberate. But this time, there was no anger in his eyes—just a quiet, deep kind of resolve.
"I never said she was mine," he said, voice like smoke.
"But she's not leaving with you."
I felt the weight of their eyes on me. My heart was in a vice, squeezed tighter with each passing moment. Ethan's face was full of anger, confusion. Johnson's was unreadable. But there was something raw, something desperate in his gaze.
The silence between them was suffocating.
"Lilly." Ethan's voice cracked.
"You can't want this. Not from him."
I didn't know how to answer. Did I want this? I wasn't sure anymore. How could I choose between the man who had been my past and the one who was offering me a future I didn't understand?
"I don't want this," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
But even as I said the words, a part of me knew I wasn't talking about Johnson. I was talking about the life I had left behind, the life that felt like a distant dream now.
Ethan's face fell.
"Then why are you still here?" he asked, his voice breaking.
I didn't know how to answer him. How could I explain something I didn't fully understand? How could I explain the pull I felt toward the very man I feared?
Johnson didn't wait for me to answer. He took another step toward Ethan, his presence like an iron wall.
"She stays," Johnson said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Ethan's fists clenched.
"This isn't over, Moretti."
And then, he turned on his heel, his footsteps heavy and final.
I watched him go—watched the man who had once been everything to me walk away, and I felt like I was watching a part of myself disappear with him.
When the door slammed behind him, I sank to the floor, my hands trembling.
I felt Johnson's presence before I saw him. He was standing just behind me, his gaze on me like it always was—intense, unnerving.
"You're mine now," he said, his voice low. Not in a possessive way. Not in the way I expected. But in a way that made my chest tighten.
"And I won't let you go."
I wanted to run. I wanted to fight, scream, beg him to understand. But the truth was, I couldn't move. I couldn't leave him—not because I was afraid of him—but because a part of me knew that I was already lost.