Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
BASTION
The door clicked shut.
Neither of us moved.
The silence she left behind wasn’t heavy anymore.
It wasn’t suffocating or sharp.
It just… was .
Luca was still staring at the door like he expected her to walk back in.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, watching the way the corners of his mouth twitched.
And then he laughed.
Soft at first—almost like a breath—then louder.
Like he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
I cracked a grin. Couldn’t help it.
It pulled slow across my face, unfamiliar and fucking addictive.
Because holy shit .
She just walked out on us.
After spilling her heart, after telling us we weren’t the same, after admitting she felt something for both of us .
She walked out with her chin high and her voice shaking, but steady.
And I’d never wanted someone more in my life.
“She knows,” Luca said, his voice full of something I hadn’t heard ever.
Hope.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “She does.”
“She actually knows.”
I leaned back into the couch, head hitting the top of it with a soft thud .
My chest felt light.
My ribs still burned from the way my heart had twisted when she started talking—but now it felt different.
Like the world had tilted just slightly in the right direction.
“She’s the first,” I said.
Luca looked at me.
“The first girl to really tell us apart.”
He nodded once. “The first one who didn’t want to.”
And that was it, wasn’t it?
Every girl before her wanted to choose.
Wanted to divide us.
But her?
She didn’t flinch when things got messy.
She didn’t try to fix us.
She didn’t run from our damage.
She fucking saw it —the way we break and bend—and she still looked at us like we were something sacred.
“You think she meant it?” Luca asked, but the way he said it…
He already knew the answer.
I nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
He smiled. Just a small one.
But it stayed .
I could still hear her voice— “I won’t pick. I like you both. You’re not the same.”
She said it like it mattered .
And it did.
Fuck , it did.
“She’s dangerous,” I murmured, shaking my head.
“She’s ours ,” Luca corrected.
My smile widened.
And for the first time in years—maybe ever —I let myself believe it.
Not just the sex. Not just the touch.
But the way she looked at us.
The way she made the lights go off and the monsters go quiet.
She wasn’t afraid of the scars.
She wanted the whole fucked-up picture.
Both of us.
Together.
And I’ll be damned if we let her walk away for good.