King sat on the edge of the bed, the silence of the house pressing around him like a weight. His fingers trembled slightly as he held his phone, staring at Charlotte's contact for a long moment before finally pressing call. The line rang once… twice…
"King?" Her voice came through soft, surprised, but warm.
It had been days since they had properly spoken.
He didn't answer right away. His throat felt tight, and for a moment, all he could do was blink back the sting in his eyes.
"King?" she repeated, concern creeping in. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"I screwed up," he said blankly. "I didn't even see it happening. And now he's probably gone."
Charlotte was quiet on the other end, listening.
"I didn't do anything wrong, not in the way it probably looks like," King continued. "But I let someone else get close. While Win was away… I spent time with James. We went out, laughed, and talked. And when I wasn't feeling well, he brought me medicine. That was it. He helped. But someone saw us and took pictures. Win saw them. And now he looks at me like I'm something disgusting."
Charlotte exhaled softly but still didn't interrupt.
"He's been so quiet lately. Like I'm not even here. He doesn't ask if I'm okay anymore. Doesn't share things with me. He goes to work, comes home late, and avoids being in the same room. And tonight…" King's voice cracked. "He told me he's moving out. Alone."
There was a pause.
"I thought he was mad at me," King added, tears falling freely, "but this is worse. He's erasing me, Char. Like I never mattered. Like I never existed."
"King…"
"I know I made mistakes. I know I should've told him. I just wanted to feel normal, to feel free for a little while. But now I'd rather have him yell at me. Hate me. Anything but this silence and distance. I can't, Char."
Charlotte sighed. "He loves you, King. That's why it hurts him so much."
"I don't know if love's enough anymore," he whispered. "Not after this."
Charlotte's voice was calm, but every word cut deep.
"I guess this time, you are wrong, King."
King sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor like it could swallow him whole. His phone was warm in his palm, but Charlotte's voice on the other end felt like ice.
"You know how much Win hates strangers in his space. Especially people he hasn't approved of. And yet… you let James into his house."
She paused, as if giving him time to breathe.
"Even if he was willing to overlook you going out with him, King, bringing James into that house… it's different. That space is sacred to Win, and you know it."
King opened his mouth to explain, but all that came out was a sigh.
"I was sick," he said softly. "Charlotte, I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't thinking."
"I know," she said, her voice softening. "And I'm sorry for not picking up that day. I was buried in work. By the time I saw your calls, it was too late. But that's not the only thing, is it?"
She hesitated, then continued. "Things have been off between you and Win for a while now, and you never said a word. You didn't tell me you were seeing James. You didn't tell me anything, King."
He bit the inside of his cheek, shame pooling in his chest like weight. "I didn't think it mattered."
Charlotte scoffed gently. "Didn't matter? You've changed, King. This isn't like you."
"I just wanted to feel normal," he murmured. "To be myself for once."
"And that's fine," Charlotte said, "but look where that got you. Wanting freedom doesn't mean forgetting everything else. Especially not someone like Win."
The silence that followed was heavy.
"Listen," she said, voice firm again. "Don't hide anything. Don't twist the story. Win hates lies more than betrayal. If you still want to keep him, you need to apologize with your whole heart—sincerely. No defensiveness. No excuses."
King's throat tightened. "He won't forgive me."
"He might not right away," Charlotte said. "But you know Win. He values honesty more than anything. And despite everything, I know there's still a soft spot for you in his heart. Nothing's changed that."
He leaned back against the bed, eyes burning. Every word she said echoed in places he didn't want to acknowledge.
Charlotte sighed, softer this time. "You always said you wanted freedom. Well… he gave it to you."
King closed his eyes. He didn't have any strength left, but Charlotte's words stayed.
"So don't argue," she added gently. "Even if he yells, even if his words are cruel, just take it. His silence is worse. And you know it."
She didn't say goodbye. She just ended the call quietly, like she knew he needed to sit in the silence.
And he did. Because that was what regret felt like.
⸻
King stood in the kitchen, staring at the drink he'd just prepared. His hands trembled slightly, not from the heat of the cup, but from the weight of what he was about to do. He took a deep breath, then turned, heading upstairs with slow, heavy steps.
When he reached Win's door, he paused. For minutes, he just stood there, the drink warming his fingers, his breath shallow. Then, finally, he knocked.
There was no response. No "come in." No sound of acknowledgment. Just silence.
Still, King opened the door.
Win sat behind his desk, eyes on the glowing screen of his laptop, fingers dancing over the keyboard. The moment he noticed King, his fingers stilled. But he didn't look up.
King walked in slowly and placed the drink on the edge of the desk, right where Win could reach for it.
Win didn't.
Instead, he stood up without a word, making his way toward the door like King wasn't even there.
King moved quickly, stepping in front of him, their bodies almost brushing. His heart pounded against his ribs.
"I'm sorry," King breathed out, the words catching in his throat.
Win's eyes flicked up, cold and unreadable. "For what?"
King swallowed hard. "For going out with James."
Win didn't answer. He stepped to the side, trying to move past.
"I'm sorry," King repeated, louder this time, more desperate.
Win's voice was low but sharp. "For what?"
King's eyes dropped to the floor. "For going to the hotel with him. But we only went to meet his friend. That's all."
Win reached the door.
"I'm sorry for bringing him to our home," King blurted, voice cracking.
That stopped Win.
He stood there for a moment, hand on the doorknob, then slowly turned back. His face was stoic, but his eyes… they were full of something cold and splintering.
He walked closer until they were face to face.
"King," Win said quietly, but with an edge, "I work for both of us. I do your job and mine. I pull hours, sacrifice sleep, juggle meetings and deadlines, and still, I make sure you never lack anything. I chose to spoil you, to protect you, to tell you it was okay to stop coming to work."
He stepped even closer, his voice rising.
"But while I'm home, drowning in work, do you ever ask me how I'm doing? Do you even care?"
King didn't answer. He couldn't.
Win's voice cracked with emotion now. "I gave you shares in my father's company. You're the Vice President on paper. You earn the same cut. You get the same benefits. But do you ever ask about the business? Or show the slightest interest in what I deal with every day?"
He stared at King like he was trying to find something to justify what he was feeling.
"I was away for four days. Four days," Win repeated, shaking his head. "And not once did you reach out. I was the one texting you. I was the one checking on you. You didn't ask how my trip went, didn't even pretend to care."
King opened his mouth, but Win cut him off.
"Don't I have the right to feel this way?"
His voice was rising now, frustration pouring out of him like floodwater.
"I wasn't angry because you went out with him. I told myself I wouldn't interfere. That I wouldn't question who you are. I promised I wouldn't cross that line again."
He took a shaky breath, eyes shining not with tears, but with something worse. Disappointment.
"I thought maybe… maybe you loved me. Because I was always there. Because I never gave up on you. But now I see you were only with me because I was the only one in your damn life."
King's breath hitched.
"All I ever gave you was love," Win said bitterly. "And now that I'm showing you what it feels like to be ignored… to be treated like an afterthought… suddenly, it hurts. Why?"
He laughed without humor. "You never smiled at me the way you smile around James. Maybe I scared you. Maybe I cared too much. But now that I've finally given you what you've been giving me all this time, it's over."
Win's voice dropped into something sharp and cold.
"Get out."
King's heart twisted. "Win, please…"
"I said get out," Win snapped, voice thunderous.
King flinched.
"I don't want to hear another word," Win growled. "Not a single excuse. Not another apology. Just leave."
King stood there, frozen in place, mouth open, breath caught in his throat. But Win didn't look at him anymore. He turned his back like King was already gone.
And in some awful, unspoken way, he was.