CHAPTER 23

The room is thick with tension, the silence between us almost suffocating. I want to say something, anything, to break the stillness, but the words don’t come. My mind is spinning, overwhelmed by the reality of the situation, and my heart is caught between two conflicting desires. Atlas is standing close enough to make my pulse quicken, and Kieran’s eyes—those damn eyes—are locked onto me, as though waiting for me to break.

But I don’t. I stay still, torn in two.

Kieran clears his throat, the sound cutting through the thick silence. His voice, once so calm and assured, now carries a hint of frustration. "Marga, we need to talk. Really talk." His words are slow, deliberate, as though trying to anchor me in some kind of reality I can’t seem to hold onto.

I turn my gaze to him, trying to steady myself. The man standing in front of me is someone I’ve relied on, trusted, someone whose presence has always been a constant in my life. And yet, there’s something in his demeanor now—something sharpened and distant—that I’m not sure how to handle.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it feels like I’ve swallowed a stone instead. "Kieran, I—"

"I know," Kieran interrupts, taking a step closer, his voice soft but firm. "I know it’s not easy, Marga. But you can’t keep running from this." He glances at Atlas, who has remained silent, watching us with an unreadable expression. The air is thick with the unspoken tension between the two men, a silent battle that neither of them is willing to start, but which both seem ready to finish.

I wish I could just disappear, escape from this moment where everything feels too much—too raw, too real. But I can’t. I’m trapped in the space between them, in the space of my own indecision.

"You’re not just dealing with me anymore," Kieran continues, his voice quiet, but there’s an edge to it. "You’re dealing with Atlas too. And I can’t stand here and pretend like I don’t see it. I won’t."

I glance over at Atlas, who is still watching, his expression unreadable. His lips are pressed into a thin line, but his eyes—they’re the same eyes I’ve been avoiding for weeks. They hold everything I don’t want to confront—the desire, the longing, the quiet intensity that has been building between us since the moment we met.

"I’m not asking you to choose," Atlas finally speaks, his voice low, calm, the kind of calm that makes it impossible to ignore. He steps toward me, his movements slow but purposeful. "I’m just asking you to acknowledge what’s here. What’s between us. And then, whatever happens, happens."

I swallow hard. "I don’t know what’s between us, Atlas," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I don’t know what I want."

Kieran’s jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with something I can’t place. He’s been patient with me—maybe too patient. But I know him well enough to see that the cracks in his facade are starting to show. The frustration in his posture, the way he’s holding himself back—it’s all starting to slip, just a little.

"Are you telling me you don’t feel anything for me, Marga?" Kieran’s voice is sharp now, a tone I’ve never heard from him before. "Because if you don’t, then just say it. I can handle it. But if you do… If you do feel something for me, then why are we standing here like this? Why aren’t we moving forward?"

I take a step back, the weight of his words crashing into me like a wave. I feel like I’m drowning in the storm of emotions I’ve been trying so desperately to keep at bay. Kieran is right—everything between us has been building to this moment. And now, it’s here. And I can’t avoid it any longer.

"I don’t know what I’m doing," I admit, my voice trembling. "I never thought I’d be in this position. I never thought I’d be caught between you two."

The room is silent again, and I wish I could take back my words. But they hang in the air, heavy and suffocating, impossible to ignore.

Kieran’s gaze softens, but there’s still a tension in his posture that I can’t ignore. "Marga, I’ve always been here for you. I’ve always been the one who had your back, no matter what. I care about you—more than you probably realize." His voice falters for a moment, but he quickly regains his composure. "But you’re not the only one with feelings here. We both care about you. Atlas, I…" His voice catches, as though the words are hard for him to say. "I don’t know how to make this right."

Atlas shifts, the air between us suddenly feeling more charged than before. His voice is low but insistent. "I don’t want you to choose because of what Kieran says, or because of what anyone else thinks. I just want you to choose because of what you want."

My heart is hammering in my chest, a mixture of guilt and longing pulling at me from both directions. I feel like I’m being torn in two—one half tethered to Kieran, to everything we’ve built together, and the other half being drawn toward the intensity of Atlas’s presence, the electric pull that has kept me awake at night thinking about what could be.

"I can’t," I say, my voice breaking. "I can’t choose right now."

Atlas doesn’t say anything for a long time, and when he speaks, his voice is almost gentle. "You don’t have to decide right now. But you do have to be honest with yourself. Whatever you feel, whatever you need, you can’t keep running from it. Not anymore."

The silence that follows is heavy, laden with unspoken words. Kieran doesn’t say anything more, but I can feel the frustration radiating off him. I want to reach out, to comfort him, but at the same time, I know I can’t fix this. Not now.

Atlas glances over at Kieran, and for the first time, there’s a shift in the dynamic between them. It’s subtle, but I feel it—an understanding, a kind of uneasy truce. Neither of them is willing to back down, but neither is willing to fight openly. The tension between them, between all three of us, is thick enough to cut with a knife.

"I’m not going to push you, Marga," Atlas says finally, his voice quieter now. "But I won’t stand by and pretend like there’s nothing between us. I can’t do that."

"I know," I whisper, my throat tight. "I just… I need time."

Kieran nods slowly, his gaze softening, but there’s still a tension between us, something unresolved. "Take all the time you need. But don’t shut me out."

The words hang in the air, the weight of them pressing down on me. I want to reassure him, to tell him that I’ll figure this out, that I’ll make a decision. But the truth is—I don’t know. I don’t know how to navigate the mess I’ve made of my feelings, and I don’t know how to make the choice between them.

"Thank you," I say softly, glancing between the two of them. "Both of you."

With that, Kieran nods and leaves the room, leaving me alone with Atlas. I can feel his presence behind me, his eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to turn around just yet. The space between us feels unbearable, like I’m standing on the edge of something I’m afraid to face.

"You don’t have to do this alone, Marga," Atlas says, his voice softer now, almost like a promise. "Whatever happens, I’ll be here."

The words settle in my chest, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a glimmer of hope amidst the confusion.