part 9 : let them burn

Across the ocean, Fiona sipped her drink on a quiet balcony, the sea stretching endlessly ahead—calm, vast, and untouchable. The breeze played with her hair as the sun dipped low, casting everything in hues of gold and lavender. Her best friend sat beside her, laughing at something stupid. Something light. Easy.

She smiled.

But the smile wasn't for the joke. Not really. It was for something deeper. Something sacred.

Freedom.

Not the kind written about in postcards or promised in dreams—but the kind that settles in your bones after you've survived the kind of love that breaks and bruises and leaves you questioning your own reflection.

This freedom tasted like rain after a long, merciless drought. Sharp. Cold. Cleansing.

And it was hers.

They thought she'd fall apart. Thought her world would collapse the moment they stopped showing up—Damien with his wild charm and Dominic with his cold fire. But she didn't fall.

She scorched.

And from those ashes, she built something new.

Let them wait.

Let them sit in silence and wonder if she still thinks of them when the world goes quiet. Let them ask the wind if her breath still hitches when she hears their names.

Let them suffer with the same ache they once watched her drown in.

Because they never understood her softness was not weakness—it was grace. And when they took her for granted, they thought she'd beg.

She didn't beg.

She walked.

Now, the sky stretched before her, full of promise. And for the first time in too long, she was the one holding the strings, not dancing on them.

And yet…

Buried under pride and the salt-slicked wind, she knew a truth she'd never dare speak aloud.

She missed them.

Not the control. Not the tension. Not the chaos.

But the slivers—the moments that felt real. Damien's half-sincere smirk when she caught him looking too long. Dominic's hands in her hair like she was a secret he couldn't let go of. The quiet between kisses. The storms in their eyes.

But missing them didn't mean she'd return.

No.

This time, if they wanted her again, they'd have to crawl through fire. They'd have to bleed for her peace the way she bled for their affection.

Because she wasn't the same girl anymore.

Her heart was no longer for the taking.

It had become a fortress.

And they? They could stay outside and bu