Chapter 30
The Flame
The next day, after what was arguably the shittest night’s sleep ever—including my nights in the basement—I woke with the same lingering feeling of shame.
As I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I was barely able to look in the mirror. I couldn’t bear to see the red marks on my cheeks, the bruising on my body. It was all reminders of Silas. Of what we had shared.
Of how much I had enjoyed it.
It was only when I switched the shower on that I stopped dead still, my head jerking back to look through the door and into the bedroom.
What the fuck was that?
Tightening the towel around my body, I stormed back into the room, snatching up the white device I had walked past.
Somehow, being in this room, things had begun to feel normal again. So when I’d registered a phone on my bedside table, it hadn’t occurred to me to think it was out of place. My old life and new life were merging into something that felt like my future, and so a phone hadn’t screamed “new.”
I automatically pressed my thumb to the screen and sat down on the edge of the bed when it unlocked.
Of course he had my fingerprints. Of fucking course he did!
For one horrible second, I found myself wondering how long he’d had them and what he’d used them for.
But then I figured it was out of my control anyway.
Whatever he’d used them for was in the past. I couldn’t change it, and clearly I hadn’t been harmed from it—it was just a major fucking violation.
I scrolled through, seeing he had programmed the same wallpaper, organised my apps into the same folders I had them in, in the same order, and even had the same widgets on the home screen.
Swiping through the gallery, he’d downloaded all my photos from the cloud, logged me into my social media accounts, and input all my data back into my period tracker.
Because that wasn’t fucking obsessive at all!
The phone felt like a brick in my hand. It was only a few weeks ago that I had never been without a device. I’d taken it for granted. I’d grown up in a generation where having a mobile was as essential as clothing. And now, the weight of what this meant was immeasurable.
It was obvious that this wasn’t my actual phone—the screen didn’t have a chip in the corner from where I’d dropped it, and there wasn’t the general wear and tear of a well-used device. But it was replicated to look like mine. Silas had built this for me, app by app, picture by picture.
Only this one couldn’t be tracked and traced back to here. Not unless I reached out and made it known where I was.
Before I could think better of it, I was keying in the number for my father’s office.
It was the only one I knew by heart. Who took the time to learn numbers these days when everything was programmed for us?
But my father’s I knew. It was always the number I rang before I was assigned Frank and given my own personal driver.
My eyes blurred as memories washed over me—me drunkenly giggling, asking “Daddy darling” to pick me up.
Me at eight, at my very first sleepover, whispering on the phone, telling my dad I missed him and Mum.
Being spoilt on my thirteenth birthday and ringing the office to ask for a car.
Spending more than my allowance, maxing out the credit card, and needing him to wire me more money.
And then, just as quickly, the warmth of those memories vanished and were replaced with my dad in his office with Adrien, signing my life away as though I meant nothing to him.
I erased the number.
You could always reach out to—
No. I silenced that thought before it could take root.
I couldn’t contact him. Not after last night.
Could I?
Luca would be beside himself with worry. He’d be hating himself—especially as he had tabs on me. He would never forgive himself for letting me go missing under his watch.
I owed it to him to reach out and let him know I was safe.
I also owed it to him to let him know what had happened. How I felt about Silas—even if I wasn’t exactly sure what those feelings were, I knew enough to know they weren’t something I should feel whilst technically involved with another man.
I climbed higher onto the bed, resting my back against the headboard, and logged onto our secret messaging app—the one Luca had built for me and him—and had a message ping through before I’d even had a chance to set my new username.
Luca: What the fuck are you doing, little ember?
Isabelle: Chilling. Killing.
I sent a GIF of the goofy ghost face from Scary Movie.
Luca: That’s not funny.
Isabelle: Have you lost your sense of humour?
Luca: Have you lost your fucking mind?
Okay, this wasn’t going at all how I expected it to. I understood that he was probably half mad with worry, but he hadn’t even asked if I was okay.
Isabelle: I’m fine, Luca. Thanks for asking.
Luca: I know you’re fucking fine. You think I don’t know that?
Isabelle: How could you? You don’t even know where I am.
Luca: I have a pretty good idea.
I rolled my eyes.
Men and their pride.
That was all this was. Luca was angry because he’d failed to protect me. Because another man had reached me first. He would never admit that he’d lost me. That another man had snatched me from under his nose.
Isabelle: Sure you do. Look, I didn’t message you to argue.
Luca: So why did you message?
I paused for a second, looking up from the phone and around the room, as though the answer was magically going to be there.
Isabelle: I wanted you to know I was okay.
I typed, finally settling on my answer.
Luca: And?
I frowned at the phone.
Isabelle: Is that not enough? We’re friends, aren’t we?
Luca: Friends.
I could practically hear the scoff.
Isabelle: I didn’t want you worrying. I care about you. I didn’t want you to think I’d just… well… left.
Luca: But you did leave. You shut me out. You ran away.
I paused for a moment.
Yes, okay, I shut him out. But running away was a bit extreme. I hadn’t run anywhere.
Isabelle: Luca, are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.
Luca: Oh, you have no idea.
Isabelle: Are you mad at me? You know none of this was my fault, don’t you?
He couldn’t possibly think this was my fault.
Isabelle: Luca??
He did! He actually thought I was responsible for this fucking mess!
Isabelle: Fine! Don’t reply to me. I just wanted to message you because I missed you, okay?
I wanted to let you know that you’ve been on my mind.
You’ve actually helped me, though you won’t even understand how.
But you have. You’ve been the voice in my mind, silently cheering me on.
You’ve given me strength here when some days felt impossible.
I paused, waiting to see if the typing bubble would appear. After a minute, with no sign he was replying—though the read reports were on, so I knew he was still looking—I typed some more.
Isabelle: I want you to know that I’ve really enjoyed our time together.
And I may not have told you this enough—or even at all—but I really did develop strong feelings for you.
Which is crazy. We’ve never even met. And yet you know me better than anyone.
You’re the only one I ever confided in. I’ve had a lot of time to think while I’ve been here.
And I’ve thought about you constantly. I really just wanted you to know how strong my feelings were.
All of this was true. But I needed to let him know that I was done with all of that.
That we had to let each other go. That… well, that Silas was in my life now.
I wasn’t sure what shape he was going to take, but he was here.
He had taken me for a reason. He wasn’t just going to step back and let me ride into the sunset with Luca.
I waited another minute, but when he still wasn’t typing, I went to type out my goodbye.
As hard as it was, I needed to let him go.
He deserved his own chance at happiness.
And until I knew what my own future looked like, I couldn’t keep stringing him along.
Maybe one day we would be able to reconnect, but right now?
It was impossible. Silas would eventually figure out who Luca was.
And when he did, there would be hell to pay. For us both.
I got two letters into my response when my door was kicked open and there stood Silas, absolutely seething, the rage practically pouring off him. He filled the doorway like a storm finally breaking, every inch of him radiating fury.
My stomach bottomed out, the phone dropping from my fingers and into my lap.
He raised his hand, showing me a phone, open on mine and Luca’s text exchange.
My jaw slackened, my mouth hanging open.
Of course it was cloned. Of fucking course it was.