It started with one beep. Just one. A single phone beep—small, ordinary, yet loaded with the power to ruin her day or change it forever.
Bella wasn't in the mood for either.
She froze. Her thumb hovered over the screen. The name glared at her like a warning sign: Adrian.
Adrian—chaos distilled into a man. Confidence wrapped in cologne, a smile that could destroy or delight, and eyes that knew her too well.
Her mind screamed caution, but her heart ignored it. She answered.
"Bella," his voice slid through the speaker—deep, smooth, sinfully familiar.
She closed her eyes. "Adrian, please… Don't start."
"I'm not starting," he said, that teasing softness in his tone. "I'm only reminding you. Chris… He'll hurt you. He'll break you in ways you can't stitch back together. You think I'm lying? Watch it happen."
Bella's chest tightened. A pulse throbbed at her temples. She felt cornered even before a word left his mouth. "You sound like you've been waiting for me not to."
He chuckled—a dangerous, soft sound that once made her heart skip. "What if I were? You know me. I have this thing for catching you when you're vulnerable."
"It seems you should get a hobby," she muttered, trying for humor but tasting her own bitterness.
"Still sharp," he said, voice low and teasing. "But don't fool me. I can tell when something's off."
"Nothing's off," she lied. "I… didn't sleep well."
"Because of him?"
Her silence spoke louder than words.
"I told you," Adrian continued, losing the playfulness. "I told you Chris would do this. He's going to keep taking pieces of you until you don't even recognize yourself anymore."
"Adrian, stop—"
"Why do you let him?" His voice cracked, raw and unfiltered. "Why love someone who can't love you the way you deserve?"
"Because I'm tired of losing people!" The words burst out before she could stop them. "Because every time I try to protect myself, I end up alone. Because Chris—" she choked back a breath, "Because Chris feels safe. And maybe that's my mistake."
Silence.
Then his whisper: "Bella… I'm not trying to fight you. I… hate seeing you like this. Hate that you think he's the only one who can make you feel alive."
Her chest tightened further. She forced herself to breathe. The air felt too thick, too sharp, as if inhaling might shatter her.
"Adrian," she said, firmer now. "I know Chris isn't perfect. He's done a lot. But the last thing I need right now is a list of his sins coming from you. You have a way of twisting everything fragile. I don't have the strength today."
A low, regretful chuckle. "You always had a sharp tongue."
"Only when I'm tired," she murmured.
"Fine," he said. "I'll be patient. But you should know…" His voice softened. "I still love you."
The words hit her like lightning. Her stomach flipped. Her limbs grew heavy, as if gravity had decided she couldn't move.
"Adrian…"
"No, let me speak." His tone lowered, intimate, carrying that hint of mischief she knew too well. "Do you remember that evening? You burned the rice, so we ate half-cooked spaghetti, because you said the rice 'tasted like regret"?
She couldn't help but laugh, a reluctant, shaky sound that surprised her.
"We still ate it," he continued. "We laughed until you choked. Sat on the floor, watching that movie we never finished. And then…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You kissed me. Slow… slow enough I thought I'd die before your lips even touched mine."
Her pulse stuttered.
"Adrian, please—"
"You still remember that?" she asked, her voice betraying a crack of longing.
"I remember everything," he said, voice rich and low. "The messy hair, the oversized T-shirt, the flush on your cheeks when I teased you. And how you came to me… the way you touched me, slow, uncertain, not even realizing the power you had. How you looked at me like I was worth saving."
She swallowed hard, her throat tight. "You make it sound like a fairytale."
"It was," he said. "For me, at least. You were my peace in a world that never stopped spinning."
She wanted to tell him to stop. To hang up. But his voice wrapped around her thoughts like smoke, curling into every corner of her mind.
Adrian continued, oblivious to her crumbling walls. "I keep thinking about how you looked that night. Vulnerable, fierce, stubborn… perfect in ways I'll never forget. You made me want to be better, Bella. Do you know how rare that is?"
Her chest tightened. She could feel her heart pushing against her ribcage, screaming for attention.
"Because I…" she began, voice faltering, "…because I loved you once. I still—"
He cut her off. "I know. And I'm not asking for forgiveness, not tonight. I only want you to remember that someone saw you—really saw you. Not the chaos, not the façade. You."
Her mind flinched. Am I still that girl? Do I even know who I am anymore?
The memories of Chris clawed at her sanity, threatening to pull her under. Yet Adrian's words, Adrian's voice, reminded her of nights where love felt safe, raw, and unyielding.
Her thoughts spiraled. William—first love, heartbreak distilled. Chris—storm and comfort all in one. Adrian—fire, flame, chaos. And her mother's betrayal, still smoldering, still burning holes in her trust.
Her body betrayed her. She curled her fingers into the bedsheets, her nails biting into the fabric. Her pulse raced like drums in a war she couldn't win.
"Please…" she whispered.
"I miss you," he said, tender and relentless. "I miss your chaos, your laugh, your stubborn insistence on arguing over nothing to see me smile. I miss the way you looked at me like I wasn't broken."
Her body ached. Memories surged like a flood: his hands, his breath, the heat of a kiss, the brush of his skin. She was drowning, and he was the water.
"Don't," she whispered.
"I'll keep missing you until you let me stop," he said, firm, unyielding.
Her chest heaved. Desire, guilt, fear, longing—they all tangled into knots she couldn't untie. She wanted to run, to hide, to forget. But she could not.
"Please, not now," she whispered.
"Okay," he said. "But remember, I'm here. Always. And I need you to hear what's happening with me… my dad, the company, the deal gone south. Everything's changed. You need to hear it from me."
Her mind spun. Anger. Confusion. Desire. Pain. Chaos.
When the call ended, she collapsed onto her bed. The sheets tangled around her legs, suffocating in their familiarity. Her body shook. Her heart refused to slow.
"God," she whispered. "Can anything be more chaotic than this?"
Her thoughts tumbled in a frenzied mess: William was a memory with teeth. Chris was a passion she couldn't tame. Adrian was the fire she couldn't resist. And her mother… her mother.
She laughed, a jagged, hollow sound, not because anything was funny, but because nothing was.
Her chest tightened. Her mind replayed every word, every tone, every sigh. Desire and regret, nostalgia and pain, all stirred together into a bitter cocktail.
Then she heard it.
Footsteps. Soft. Hesitant.
Her body froze.
A knock.
The door creaked open.
Her mother.
The last person she wanted to see.
Their eyes met, and in that single, loaded look, every piece of peace Bella had left was shattered like glass.
And somewhere deep in her chest, a new panic rose—a storm she hadn't seen coming.