Arthur stood in front of the mirror, marveling at his reflection. The circles under his eyes were darker than he remembered. His skin appeared paler, stretched thin by the weight of everything he had borne in the last weeks—Nick's quiet, the lies, the heartache, the meticulously placed doubts that gnawed at their once unshakable bond.
No more.
He fixed his collar, smoothed the front of his shirt, and grabbed his keys. He didn't need a plan. He just needed to stop this.
Ake was poison—and Arthur was done letting it seep into the life he had fought so hard to build with Nick.
Ake's condo overlooked the city like he owned it. The building was sleek, glossy, and sterile. A superb mask, much like the man himself.
Arthur didn't bother with greetings when Ake opened the door. He walked in without asking for permission, his tone strong and his remarks cutting.
"I'm here to tell you this ends now."
Ake cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping a glass of wine like they were at a dinner party instead of on the brink of war.
"Arthur," Ake said calmly. "You look tired. Trouble in paradise?
"Don't," Arthur snapped. "Don't play games. You've done enough damage already."
Ake smirked. "You think this is about damage? I'm not the one who married the wrong person and continues looking back."
"I never looked back," Arthur continued, his voice steely. "You were a mistake I used to make a man I loved jealous. I told you that. You knew what it was."
"You didn't act like it," Ake remarked. "You held my hand. You let me believe—"
"I never loved you! " Arthur cut in, louder now. "You were a placeholder for someone I was trying to get over. That was incorrect, and I've already apologized for it. But don't distort that into something it wasn't."
Ake's expression hardened. He stepped forward, the charm peeling away to show the bitterness underlying.
"I gave you my heart. I saw the way you smiled as I hugged you. You don't look at him like that anymore."
"You don't know how I look at Nick." Arthur's voice fell, firm and resolute. "You don't know what we've been through—what we survived. And yeah, I tried to make him jealous. I made a mistake by trying to use you, but I never deceived you or you. You did that."
Ake's mouth twitched, but he didn't answer.
Arthur took another step forward, his presence calm but authoritative now. "I'm not here to argue. I'm here to inform you that this obsession, this twisted scheme you've built—it ends now. I won't let you destroy what Nick and I have."
Ake's mask loosened just a little, displaying a glimmer of something hurt. But Arthur didn't care.
He went on, firmer. "You're not getting between us. Not now or ever. So quit phoning me. Stop showing up. Stop sending videos, photographs, and bogus evidence. I know what you did. And I'll make sure the correct people know it too if you don't back off."
"You're threatening me now? " Ake sneered.
"No," Arthur answered. "I'm protecting my marriage. There's a difference."
Silence fell between them. Heavy and Sharp.
Ake scoffed and turned his back. "You will come running back when he leaves you again. That man doesn't trust you. He never did. Why else did he believe a video over your word? "
Arthur didn't flinch, but Ake's remarks hit a raw point. He clenched his fists and then slowly released the strain.
"Because we're both human," Arthur said softly. "We both have scars. But we're working through them. Because love—real love—isn't perfect. It's messy, painful, and faulty. But it's honest. And you've never known what that looks like."
He moved toward the door, pausing only once to peek back at Ake.
"This is your last chance to let go. Walk away, Ake. While you still can."
Then he departed.
The minute the elevator doors closed behind him, Arthur exhaled a trembling breath. It felt like walking away from a hurricane that had been chasing him for months.
But even as he returned to their empty apartment, even as quiet awaited him at the door instead of Nick's voice, Arthur felt something he hadn't felt in weeks.
This wasn't over. Their love was wounded and bruised, yet it was still alive, still worth fighting for. And now, with Ake's shadow finally pushed back, Arthur could start repairing what was remained.
Nick sat alone in his office, the city lights shimmering through the glass, his phone resting face-down near his laptop. He hadn't touched it all day.
He couldn't quit thinking about Arthur,
about the agony in his eyes when Nick walked away, about the tremor in his voice when he denied everything. And despite the video, despite the weight of what he'd witnessed, there was a small voice in Nick's head that refused to shut up.
What if he was telling the truth?
He rubbed his temples. His business was hanging by a thread because of Ake's sabotage, and the person he needed most felt like a stranger now.
A tap on the door interrupted his spiral.
It was Mia.
She walked in without waiting for an answer, holding two coffees.
"You look like hell," she stated bluntly, setting one cup in front of him.
Nick gave out a shaky laugh. "Thanks."
"Arthur confronted Ake today," Mia added after a beat.
Nick's head snapped up. "What? "
"He told him the game is over permanently." Mia's eyes softened. "He didn't do it for drama. He did it for you."
Nick said nothing. He stared at the coffee, his jaw hardening.
"He's still fighting," she continued gently, "even when you're not."
That night, Nick sat in his apartment alone, looking through old images of them, laughing. kissing, dancing barefoot in the kitchen, he could still feel Arthur's arms around him if he closed his eyes.
He had departed because he felt hurt, angry, and scared.
But not because he'd stopped loving him or didn't trust him, he left to figure out how to deal with Ake.
At the same moment, Arthur lay in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin, the room too quiet, too cold.
He reached for his phone and opened a fresh message.
Arthur:
I stood up to him today, for you, for us. I don't know if it matters anymore, but I wanted you to know that I love you, Nick; I always have.
He hesitated over the send button for a moment—then tapped it.
Maybe tomorrow might be different.
Maybe tomorrow, the stillness would finally shatter.