I woke up to a sharp, burning sensation in my throat and the pounding of a headache. Blinking against the harsh morning light, I instinctively reached for a glass of water. But as my eyes adjusted, I froze.
Tyler was on my right, asleep. Shawn was on my left.
My heart stopped as the realization hit me like a punch to the chest. Slowly, I glanced down—naked beneath the sheets. Panic surged through me, a cold wave washing over my body. What had I done?
My mind scrambled to remember. Fragments of the night before flickered through my thoughts—the warmth of Tyler's embrace, the comfort of Shawn's presence. But the exact sequence of events remained frustratingly elusive.
Taking a shaky breath, I carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb either of them. My pulse raced as I tiptoed to the bathroom, my thoughts a chaotic swirl. Leaning over the sink, I splashed cold water on my face, desperately trying to ground myself.
What happened last night?
The memories danced just beyond my grasp, like smoke slipping through my fingers. A hazy recollection of kisses, warmth, and the blur of alcohol nagged at my consciousness. How had I let it go this far? What did this mean for us?
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. I needed to face them—needed answers—but I wasn't sure I was ready for what I might hear.
When I walked out of the bathroom, both of them were awake. Tyler leaned against the wall, shirtless, his eyes searching mine with a softness I hadn't expected. Shawn, fully dressed, sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady.
"How do you feel, sweetheart?" Tyler's voice was warm, his concern obvious.
My mind raced, struggling to find words. "I... I don't know," I finally admitted, my voice soft. "Scared."
Tyler frowned, his brow creased with concern. "We had too much to drink last night," he said, his voice thick with remorse.
The memories began to trickle back—a fuzzy recollection of being carried, leaning against Tyler as we entered the hotel. Flashes of warmth, of lips, and the blurred lines between friendship and desire flooded my mind.
"I remember now," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of embarrassment and clarity.
Tyler and Shawn met my gaze, their expressions sincere, almost too understanding. There was an unspoken tension in the room, as if each of us was waiting for something—an explanation, a declaration, a decision.
I took a deep breath, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I had crossed a boundary, a line that couldn't be uncrossed. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
"You're not alone in this, sweetie," Shawn said gently, his voice calm and reassuring. "We all crossed that line. But we'll figure it out together. No pressure."
His words brought a small sense of comfort, but the weight of our situation still loomed heavy. I could see in his eyes that he understood the complexity of what had happened, the tangled emotions that came with it.
For a moment, there was silence. I wanted to say something, to clear the air, but nothing came. The room felt too small for the three of us, our emotions filling the space. I felt torn—guilt and desire still twisted within me.
Tyler stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Ann," he said softly, his voice almost pleading. "We don't have to have all the answers right now. But we do need to talk about this... when you're ready." Tyler hugged me, his presence grounding me. "One step at a time, okay?"
I nodded, though I wasn't sure what I was ready for. The truth was, I wasn't sure of anything anymore. I glanced at Tyler's well-toned body, heat rising to my cheeks. "Maybe you should put your shirt on; it's making it harder for me to focus."
A playful smile broke across his face, lightening the tension in the room. "Someone was yelling 'I love abs and muscles' last night," he teased, slipping on a shirt with exaggerated slowness.
I felt my face flush deeper. "True," Shawn muttered, "and that someone was touching our bodies without limit." Shawn's voice cut in with a grin, his tone lighter but no less charged. "You've got to admit, it was... well, memorable."
I bit my lip, my pulse quickening at the implication of his words. The playful nature of their banter didn't help the swirl of confusion in my mind. I wasn't sure if it was humor or something more serious beneath the surface. I shifted uncomfortably, my eyes darting between the two of them, searching for something—anything—familiar.
"You must be hungry; let's get something to eat," Tyler said after putting on his shirt.
I nodded again, feeling a sense of relief mixed with unease. Part of me wanted to dive deeper into this, into them, but another part of me was terrified of what that might mean. Where would we go from here? What did we even want from each other?
For now, though, I was left with more questions than answers, and I wasn't sure how to begin untangling the mess we'd created.
As we walked out of the hotel room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—a disheveled version of me that didn't quite match the events of the past few hours. The reflection was a reminder of how quickly things had spiraled out of control.
Shawn must have sensed my unease because he gently placed his hand on my back as we stepped into the hallway. "Hey, it's going to be okay," he reassured me, his voice steady and calming.
We made our way to the parking lot, and I tried to focus on the mundane details—the sound of our footsteps echoing against the pavement, the soft rustle of leaves in the morning breeze. It helped distract me from the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.
Once we reached the car, Tyler held the door open for me. "After breakfast, we can take some time to sort through things," he said, climbing into the driver's seat. I appreciated his thoughtfulness, even as the uncertainty hung over us like a cloud.
As we drove, the sun filtered through the trees, casting playful shadows across the road. I watched the world go by, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. I had a million questions, but part of me feared the answers.
"Where do you want to eat?" Tyler asked, breaking the silence.
"Maybe that little diner on the corner?" I suggested, recalling the cozy atmosphere and comfort food.
"Perfect choice," he replied with a smile, and I couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth in response.
When we arrived, the diner was bustling with the early morning crowd, the smell of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon wafting through the air. As we settled into a booth, I felt a sense of normalcy begin to seep back into my bones.
"You look like you could use some pancakes." Shawn said, glancing at the menu.
"Yes, please," I replied, grateful for his initiative.
Tyler raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as the waitress came by to take our order. I watched as she scribbled it down, my mind still hazy with the weight of the past night. But as we sat there in the soft glow of the diner, the familiar sounds of clinking silverware and low chatter, I began to feel a little more grounded.
The uncertainty was still there, swirling just beneath the surface, but for the first time that morning, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe we could figure this out. Maybe the answers wouldn't be as terrifying as I feared.
And maybe, just maybe, we could navigate this together.
Tyler's phone rang, and he gestured to me that it was a business call. Since the place was bustling with chatter and activity, he stood up and walked toward the car to take the call.
"Ann," Shawn called out to me gently, his voice carrying a quiet seriousness. He leaned forward, eyes locking onto mine. "There's something I need to tell you before we decide on anything. You need to know about my past."
I met his gaze, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. There was something heavy in his words, something he was carrying that he wanted to share.
Shawn's hands fidgeted with the edge of the menu in front of him, as though organizing his thoughts before speaking. "There's someone I loved dearly," he began, his voice softer now, laden with emotion. "She was my first love. We had a long-distance relationship for five years, and we tried so hard to make it work. But in the end, things didn't go the way we had hoped. We decided to go our separate ways."
I could see the weight of those words in his eyes, the pain that still lingered. He paused, swallowing before continuing.
"And then, just two months after we broke up, she passed away." He looked down at the table for a moment, taking a steadying breath. "I was trying so hard to let her go, to move forward. And then I met you, Ann."
The air between us felt charged, the unspoken tension making my heart race. His confession was unexpected, yet it felt necessary. A piece of his past that had shaped him, a piece of him I hadn't known.
Shawn finally looked up, his eyes sincere and vulnerable. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wanted to know more about you, to see you smile, to be there for you. I never imagined I'd be feeling this way again, but you've made me believe in the possibility of something... real."
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I could see the honesty and the depth of his emotions, the raw truth that lay beneath his calm exterior. It left me speechless, my heart a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.
I wasn't sure how to respond. Part of me felt overwhelmed by his openness, by the weight of his past and the vulnerability he was sharing with me. But another part of me felt touched, deeply so, by how much he cared.
Before I could gather my thoughts, Tyler returned, his phone tucked into his pocket. He took his seat, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
"What's going on?" Tyler asked, looking from me to Shawn, his gaze searching.
Shawn smiled faintly, his expression softening. "I just told her a bit about my past."
Tyler raised an eyebrow, and his lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile. "You're not the only one with a history, Shawn."
I met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle in. Taking a deep breath, I began, "Well, I met someone during college. His name was Mark."
Both Tyler and Shawn leaned in, sensing the shift in the conversation.
"I was head over heels for him," I continued, my voice soft but steady. "He treated me so well, and I thought we were meant to be. I thought we'd end up together. But then... one rainy day, I finished class and went to look for him, since we always went home together. I found him with Emma." I paused, the memory hitting me like a wave, still fresh after all this time. "My best friend."
Shawn's expression softened with empathy, but I pressed on. I had come this far.
"I left then. I came to this city because I needed to get away from everything. I opened Sweet Indulgence during my weakest moment, when I wasn't sure who I was or what I wanted. But it became my strength, my solace. The café became more than a business to me—it became a lifeline."
There was a quiet moment as my words sank in. I could feel Tyler and Shawn both processing my revelation. It wasn't easy to share, but something about being here with them, in this moment, made it feel right.
Tyler broke the silence, his tone gentle but sincere. "You've built something beautiful out of your pain, Ann. I can see that."
I nodded, grateful for his understanding, but still feeling the weight of what I had shared. It wasn't just the loss of Mark or the betrayal from Emma that had hurt—it was the years I'd spent trying to rebuild myself, to find something solid again.
Shawn leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering. "I admire your strength, Ann. Sweet Indulgence isn't just a business—it's a part of you. And I can see why you're so dedicated to it."
I felt a swell of warmth at his words, despite the heaviness still in the air. It wasn't just about the café, though—it was about everything that had led me here. The pain, the growth, the chance to start again.
Tyler cleared his throat, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I didn't have any ex-lovers," he said quietly, his gaze steady and sincere. "I was too focused on my business... and you, Ann, you're my first love."
His words hung in the air between us, the weight of them settling over me like a gentle, unexpected wave. I wasn't sure how to respond at first. The vulnerability in his confession caught me off guard, but at the same time, it warmed me.
"Tyler..." I started, unsure of what to say, but the sincerity in his eyes made it clear that this wasn't just a passing comment. He meant it.
"I don't know what to do with all this," I admitted softly, glancing between him and Shawn. "I'm not sure what any of this means yet..."
Shawn, sensing the heaviness of the moment, placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Take your time, Ann. We're all figuring this out together. No rush."
Tyler nodded, his expression gentle but resolute. "We're in this together, Ann. No matter what."
The quiet comfort of their words helped to calm the storm of uncertainty swirling inside me. But the truth remained—I had so many unanswered questions, and the future was as foggy as ever. Yet, for the first time in a long while, I felt like maybe I could face whatever came next.
I went home and collapsed onto the sofa, the weight of everything still heavy on my chest. The soft cushions welcomed me, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being caught between two worlds. The silence in the apartment was deafening, the calmness only amplifying the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.
I closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind. Maybe I just needed time. Maybe this wasn't something that could be figured out in a single night or even a single week. After all, I'd spent years running from my past, from the pieces of my heart that were still broken, still unhealed. Was it really fair to dive into something so messy now?
I sighed and buried my face in the pillow, hoping sleep would come and bring some clarity with it. But even as I drifted off, the questions lingered. What did I truly want? What did they want? And could we ever find a way to make this work?