Torn Between Two Selves

Alexis

POV

I stood in the shadow of Davis's darkened

bedroom and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept. The soft

glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains cast an ethereal sheen

over his features, softening the lines of worry that had become all too

familiar in recent months. It was during those quiet moments when the world had

fallen away, and it was just the two of us, that I felt those walls I'd so

painfully erected begin to crumble.

I hunched closer to him, the taut muscles

beneath my fingers, and I let them linger just a trifle longer than was

necessary. The warmth in his skin sent jolts through me, a reminder of the very

real human connection I'd been fighting against.

"What are you doing, Alexis?" I

whispered to myself, barely audible even in the stillness of the night.

I retreated to the small adjoining room

that had become my haven during my time here. As I sank deeper into the plush

armchair, my mind wandered back to today's day events that had shaken me more

than I cared to admit.

It had begun just like any other,getting

Davis going in the morning, tending to his medications, and assisting him in

his physical therapy exercises. Still, through the course of the afternoon we

spent together, there'd been some alteration, subtle but inexact.

We'd been going over some business

reports, a chore that I'd initially dreaded but which was soon bound to become

so enjoyable. Davis had been one of those sorts of men who could take the most

complex theories and break them down, his eyes lighting up as he plumbed into

discussing the intricacies of market trends and financial projections.

"You know, Alexis," he said,

this deeper and more playful tone in his voice, "I think you really might

have missed your calling. You would have made one hell of a business

analyst."

I'd laughed, the sound surprising me with

its sincerity. "I think I'll stick to my day job, Mr. Anderson. Someone

has to keep you in line, after all."

His chuckling response had stirred a warm

flutter through my chest, one that I immediately did my best to squash. This

wasn't part of the plan. I wasn't supposed to like him this much, to look

forward to spending my days trying to tame this corporate beast.

When the memory finally faded, my hand

reached between the stacks of medical journals and retrieved the small, leather,bound

notebook. Opening it revealed pages filled with details recorded meticulously:

Davis's schedule, his medications, the names of business associates he dealt

with, and potential weaknesses I'd noted down.

This was my lifeline, my connection with

reality as to who I really was and why I was here. I was Ava, the master

manipulator, the woman who could bring powerful men to their knees. Alexis was

just the character I played, a means to an end.

But as I stared on and on at those cold,

calculated notes, I felt the nausea well up inside my stomach. The disconnect

between the girl who'd written these words and the person I was becoming grew

wider with each passing day.

I snapped the notebook shut, showing it

back into its hiding place. Standing abruptly, I began to pace the small

confines of my room, head racing.

What had started as a simple confidence

game; build trust, marry him, then stage an "accident" to collect his

fortune, had become something so much more complicated. Davis wasn't another

mark, another way to further my status and fortune. He was sweet and intelligent,

and despite his physical frailty, he had a strength of will that both inspired

and terrified me.

I paused by the window, staring out at the

glittering cityscape below. This world of luxury and privilege, the world I'd

always coveted, was now within my grasp. But the cost. The cost was becoming

too high.

A soft knock at my door startled me from

my reverie. "Alexis?" Davis's voice, rough with sleep, called out.

"Is everything alright?"

I inhaled a deep breath, falling, with

well,practiced ease, back into the role of the caring nurse. "I'm fine,

Mr. Anderson," I said, opening the door with a soft smile. "Did you

need something?"

He was sitting in his wheelchair peering

up at me with worry etched across his features. "I heard movement. I

wanted to make sure you were okay."

His eyes mirrored the concern of a

thousand deaths that tugged at my heart. "Just a little restless," I

said reassuringly. "Nothing to worry about. Can I get you anything? A

glass of water, perhaps?

Davis shook his head, his mouth curling up

ever so slightly. "No, thank you. I just." he paused, struggling to

get his words out. "I wanted to thank you, Alexis. For everything you do.

I know I'm not the easiest patient, but you've made these past few months

bearable. More than bearable, actually."

I swallowed hard, fighting against the

lump forming in my throat. "It's my pleasure, Mr. Anderson. Truly."

He reached out and took my hand in his.

The feel of his hand touching mine sent sparks flying up my arm.

"Davis," he said quietly. "Please, call me Davis."

The air between us was a tangle of

unspoken emotions as we stood there in silence for a moment. With a soft

squeeze, he let go of my hand and wheeled back toward his room.

"Goodnight, Alexis," he said,

craning his head backward. "Sweet dreams."

I watched him vanish down the hall, then

leaned heavily against the doorframe, my heart pounding. "Goodnight.

Davis," I whispered into the deserted corridor.

Lying in my bed, sleep evaded me. I tossed

and turned, a maelstrom of conflictive thoughts and emotions coursing through my

brain, the cunning, ruthless woman that I had so long been opposed to that

character I had created, yet with each passing hour grew more real: Alexis; a

sensitive soul, committed and capable of attachment.

I thought of the other men I'd conned over

the years: easy marks, their egos predisposing them to flattery and

manipulation. But Davis was different. For a man of his wealth and status, he

had a rare humility that had caught me off guard. He asked my opinions, on his

health, but also about his business. He made me feel visible. Valued.

It felt like an invisible fist had

connected with my solar plexus. I was falling for him. The very thing I'd sworn

would never happen, the cardinal rule of any good con was happening right before

my eyes.

The panic seized me and I bolted upright

in bed. This can't be happening. I couldn't allow it to happen. All I had

worked for, all I had sacrificed, would be for nothing if I let my emotions fog

my judgment.

I slipped out of bed, padding silently to

the bathroom. The face that stared back at me from the mirror was a stranger,wide,eyed

in fear, flushed with emotion. This wasn't me. This couldn't be me.

"Get it together, Ava," I hissed

at my reflection. "Remember who you are. Remember why you're here."

But the moment the words left my lips, I

knew their hollowness. Her eyes, hunched in indecision, danced like a war

between two versions of herself.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying

to send myself into some sort of shock. Patting my skin dry, my eyes paused on

the expensive hand towels, the marble countertops, the gleaming fixtures. All

the symbols of the life I'd always wanted were now within grasp.

But at what cost?

I returned to my bed, lying atop the

covers as I stared up at the ceiling. The quiet hum of the air conditioning and

the sound of the city below distantly reached my room. It was white noise,

soothing, but utterly incapable of bringing on sleep.

The memories of the last few months

replayed in my mind like a movie: Davis's face set, determined, pushing through

physical therapy; his laughter ringing during late,night talks; the heat in his

eyes when he thanked me for my help.

Every memory was a dagger to my well,laid

plans. I'd come here with one purpose in mind: win his trust, marry him, then

plan his death for his fortune. Simple. Clinical. Just another con in a long

line of successful manipulations.

But Davis had managed to change that. His

kindness, his resilience in the face of adversity, and his complete belief in

the goodness of others,all of it had gradually worn away the armor I had built

up around my heart.

I rolled onto my side, hugging a pillow to

my chest as if it could somehow shield me from the turmoil within. What was I

supposed to do now? Continue with the plan, crushing this budding emotion and

with it arguably destroying a good man? Or abandon everything I'd worked for,

everything I thought I wanted, for a chance at it. What? Love? Redemption?

I couldn't but make fun of such a thought.

Love was a myth, a weakness that people like me preyed upon. And redemption?

That ship had sailed long ago; the moment I had decided to use my powers of

manipulation for personal gain instead of honest,to,goodness caregiving.

And yet.

The image of Davis's smile floated before

my shut eyes. The way his whole face was lit up, the crinkles on the corners of

his eyes, and the warmth emanating from him was a sight that never failed to

make my heart stop or forget a beat.

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow.

This wasn't me. I didn't get attached. I didn't develop feelings. I was the

master con artist, the woman who could bring powerful men to their knees

without batting an eye.

But with every passing moment, Ava was

starting to feel like a vague memory, a role I'd played so long ago that I

forgot who was underneath. And Alexis was starting to feel tangible, the

persona I created as a means to an end, starting to feel far more real than the

woman I'd been for years.

With the first light of dawn beginning to

seep between the curtains, I lay awake, my mind a battlefield of warring

desires and fears. On the one hand, was Ava; all smoky promises of money and

influence, the life I'd always thought I wanted. On the other, Alexis offered

something I'd never dared dream of: real connection, purpose, and maybe, just

maybe, a shot at real happiness.

This impossible choice was hung over my

head, a decision bound to shape the contours of my life and mold the very core

of my being. On this cold morning, with the sun rising slowly above the city

skyline, the riddle was there; soon, a choice had to be made: Ava or Alexis,

deception or truth, the life I had so painstakingly planned or the life I never

knew I wanted.

But for now, in the quiet early morning

hours, I allowed myself to exist in this in,between state. Neither fully Ava

nor completely Alexis, but a woman on the precipice of change, teetering

between two vastly different futures.

As I finally fell into an uneasy sleep,

one thought reverberated inside my skull, the whisper that would accompany me

into my dreams: What kind of woman was it that I really wanted to be?