After I met with Callan, I went back to Kevin's place, feeling so many mixed emotions, I couldn't think straight. I'd thought that I would have a clear picture of what I wanted after I'd talked to them, but I was even more confused than ever.

They cared about me, and I cared about them. That should've been answer enough, shouldn't it? But it just made our situation more complicated. If they had cared about me enough, they would've told me...but then again, they were also afraid of losing me.

God, I didn't know what to do. My heart was saying one thing, and my mind a whole other thing. Both parts were trying to protect themselves. One part wanted to protect me from the heartbreak of losing them. The other part wanted to protect me by making sure I would never go through that kind of hurt again.

The conversations I'd had with them had been emotional, honest, and raw. They'd been open and answered my questions, and now I just had to make a decision.

As much as I wanted to forgive and forget, we would never be able to go back to how things were. No matter how much I didn't want their lapse of judgment to define us, it already had. If I chose them, there would always be a small part of me that would wonder if they were keeping something from me. We would have good days, sure, but there would also be days where I couldn't so easily push aside what they had made me go through. But if I didn't choose them, I would always wonder what we could've had.

I'd spoke the truth when I told Gideon that they had ruined me for other men. For those brief weeks, they'd shown me how it could be. They'd given me a taste of my darkest desires. They'd taken care of me in a way I hadn't let anyone do before. They'd made me feel safe–cherished.

Kevin was sitting on the couch when I got back. He hurriedly paused the show he was watching and looked at me expectingly. "So, how did it go?"

Dragging my feet to the seat next to him, I plopped my ass down. "Horribly. Beautifully. Good and bad. Take your pick."

"What did he say?" Kevin pushed on, both curious and worried.

"Callan said he was an idiot, which he is, but he also told me he couldn't let me slip through their fingers, and that's why he hired the PI to find me. Apparently, they'd been searching for someone for years, and I was the first one they'd all taken an interest in." I thought back to what he'd said, and a bittersweet smile rested on my lips. The notion that they'd felt a connection to me the second they saw me was like every girl's dream. When Callan had said that, my heart had gone into high gear, and I'd practically swooned.

These two days, I'd been far from unaffected by their words. It meant a lot to me to hear how Mateo was willing to quit the job he loved before his last semester was up. My heart had warmed when Gideon used his words to express himself even when I knew there was a tragic reason behind the fact that he hated to talk. It made me cry when Callan was willing to shoulder all the blame so his friends could be spared–even if it meant us being together without him. He'd begged for me to give his friends a second chance, but he hadn't asked the same for himself.

I filled Kevin in on my conversation with Callan, just like I'd done yesterday after Mateo's and Gideon's. It felt good to share it with someone; it helped sort out my own thoughts and feelings.

"Choose whatever makes you happy, girly. You don't owe them a thing, but you owe it to yourself to make the choice that's right for you," Kevin said as he patted my knee. "You know my thoughts about this." I did know. Kevin was team Emma all the way, but he'd also said he believed the guys would never betray my trust again. I didn't understand why he was so confident about that, but he was.

"It's not an easy decision to make. What if I forgive them, but it happens again? Or if I don't, and I'll end up regretting it?"

"I know it's not easy, honey, but you can't continue to think about the 'what-ifs.' If you search hard enough, you'll always find something to be uncertain about. Sleep on it. Right now, you're emotionally exhausted, and no one can think straight in that state."

"Yeah, you're right," I sighed. "Do we have any ice cream left?" My appetite for food was practically gone, but I craved anything sugary.

"Choose a movie for us, and I'll go get you a bowl." Kevin walked to the kitchen and got us both a bowl of chocolate-flavored ice cream and topped mine off with chocolate chips, just the way I liked it.

"Thank you." I smiled at him before scrolling through Netflix. In the end, I picked a movie called Molly's Game. I needed something less romantic and more drama-filled right now.

We spent the evening watching two individual movies. On the third, I got so tired I went to bed early and fell asleep to the sound of Kevin chuckling from the living room as he continued the comedy.

Kevin had already gone to work by the time my alarm rang. I didn't have any classes until later today, and for once, I would show up, even if one of those classes I had was Mateo's.

My thoughts went back to the guys like it always did. In the weeks that I had known them, they'd taken over my entire mind, and if I could admit it to myself, they'd taken over my whole heart as well. That was why what they'd done cut me so deep because I hadn't just trusted them; I'd fallen for them too.

What if...Kevin was right. If I searched hard enough, I would always find something to worry about next. What if they hurt me again? What if I would never be able to trust them like I'd once done? What if I decided to let them go and then regret it for the rest of my life? There were so many things I could second-guess about, and I would never get an answer to them until I made up my mind.

The intercom buzzed to life, bringing me out of my overactive brain. Walking to the door, I pressed down on the intercom that would allow me to speak.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"I have a delivery for one Emma Fields?" A woman asked through the speaker.

Puzzled, I told her I'd be down to collect it. What was this about a delivery? I couldn't stop wondering about it as I went down the two flights of stairs and opened the door. I didn't even notice the woman as my eyes zeroed in on the massive bouquet she was holding. It was a beautiful mixture of white, pink, but mainly lavender-colored flowers.

My breath caught as she handed it to me. "Can you sign on this tablet?" the woman asked, offering a pen. I did as she asked, and then she was on her way.

Breathing in the scent of the bouquet, a small smile rested on my lips. I had an idea, or three, on who sent this to me, and my heart was going crazy thinking about either of them sending me flowers.

I spied a note in the bouquet, and I hurried upstairs so I could read it. Kevin being the lover of flowers and plants, already had many vases to choose from, even for one as big as this.

Putting them in the water, I snatched the card, eager to see what it said.

My favorite color is blue. Callan's color is red. Gideon's is white. If you mix every one of them together, you'll get lavender.

You once told me that was your favorite color.

No one could suit us more perfectly than you.

You match us, gorgeous.

Yours truly, Mateo

He remembered, I thought. Staring at the card with blurry eyes. I felt giddy as I read his text, again and again, until I couldn't see his elegant handwriting.

My hand shook as I set the card on the table and looked back up at the bouquet–I'd never gotten flowers before.

Another ring sounded from the intercom, and I quickly dried my tears before walking back to the door and answered it.

"Hi, there's a delivery here for Emma fields, are you her?"

I could feel my heart pounding as I answered, "Yes. I'll be right there." I had to swallow several times to get rid of the lump lodged in my throat.

This time, there was a man at the door. Instead of a bouquet, he held a box from a local bakery. There was a note taped to the side of the box, and I found myself more anxious to read it than to see what was in the box.

"Have a nice day," I told the delivery man, and just as I began shutting the door, another man came to the door.

"Are you Emma Fields by any chance?" He was holding another box, this one bigger than the one from the bakery.

"Yes," I said, astounded by the number of gifts I was getting.

"Please, sign here for me."

Almost in a daze, I signed my name and got the package. I was actually nervous as I went back up–the giddy kind of nervous.

I went for the smallest box first and opened it up to find a dozen chocolate-covered strawberries. Carefully, I detached the card from the box, so it wouldn't rip.

These will forever remind me of the day you agreed to become our submissive.

It will always be my favorite day.

I know I don't have the right to ask, but please forgive us.

We're lost without you, Bella.

- Forever your idiot, Callan

I laughed as I read his regards, even as tears once again welled in my eyes. These men had made me into a living waterfall with how much I'd been crying these days. These were happy tears, though.

Lastly, I opened the bigger box. Inside, there was a gorgeous chocolate cake that made my mouth water. Instead of a card, the message was written into the cake with darker chocolate.

I miss sharing my kitchen with you.

Cooking isn't the same when you aren't here.

Come back to us, baby girl.

There wasn't a name written below, but I knew it was from Gideon. I'd never cooked with anyone but him, and there was no one else who called me baby girl.

My heart was going wild as I gazed at their presents. They weren't extravagant or expensive, and I liked that even more because their gifts were picked with me in their mind. This wasn't meant to buy my affection; it was meant to remind me of what we had together and how special it was. And it did remind me.

I remembered cuddling with Mateo after I'd spent the first night at his place. I remembered our meeting, when I'd agreed to become their submissive, and how Callan had taken care of me and feeding me strawberries covered in chocolate. I remembered Gideon cooking for me and then agreeing to help teach me...

I remembered every single good thing I'd experienced with these guys, and I realized how much I wanted to experience more with them–to have more beautiful moments that I could look back on with a happy smile when I was old and grey.

For a fourth time, the intercom rang. I couldn't wipe the silly smile from my face as another delivery person told me they had a package for me.

When the guys had said they would fight for me, I hadn't imagined they would do it with sweet gifts and heartfelt words. I'd thought they would hound me on my phone, texting, and calling, and maybe even show up at Kevin's doorstep. This, though, was perfect. They were giving me space, but at the same time showing me how much they cared.

This time, instead of a gift, I was handed a brown envelope. Through the envelope, I could feel that whatever was in it was firmer than paper. Had they sent me pictures too? The thought made my smile widen.

I felt lighter by the second as if the pain of these past days was erasing itself. I didn't care so much about the gifts, their words were more than enough. They were showing me that I meant something to them, and it was that that made me soar.

Taking two stairs at a time, I locked myself back inside Kevin's apartment. The other gifts were momentarily forgotten as I opened the envelope, excited to see what else they had up their sleeves. I was careful as I reached inside and took it out. I laughed happily as I felt the smooth content with my fingers. It was pictures!

It took me a moment to register what I was looking at, but when I did, my heart dropped. It was a picture taken yesterday at the park. I could see myself standing by the lake, with one of my hands in Callan's and the other one stretched out for what I knew should be his cheek, but all I saw were ruined paper because Callan's face was scratched out.

Oh, God. I stared at the ruined picture as shock took hold of me. I could feel at least two more pictures underneath this one, but I was afraid to look.

Steeling myself, I picked up the top one, and put it behind the others. The following picture was of Mateo and me by the same lake the day before. His face was also scratched out.

I forced myself to look at the next one, knowing that it would be one of Gideon and me. I was right. It was also from the day before yesterday, at the café. He was holding me while I was sobbing into his chest. I couldn't see his face behind the ruined paper.

With shaky legs, I collapsed on the couch, the pictures fell from my hand and down to the floor, but I couldn't stand looking at them.

My whole body shook as adrenaline pumped inside my veins.

"Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god," I kept mumbling, my eyes strayed towards the photos against my will. A whimper escaped me when I saw words written on the back of the one picture that had landed face down.

Trembling, I bent down and picked it up. The film shook as my hand trembled.

They don't deserve you.

Letting the photo yet again slip from my hand, I picked up another one and turned it around, searching for more messages.

I don't share.

"No," I gasped. I stopped breathing when I looked at the last one. My chest tightened painfully as fear gripped me.

It would be a shame to see them get hurt.