The road that led to Lior's family home looked unchanged, yet his feet felt heavier with each step. It had been ten years since he last walked this way, and despite the calm of the late afternoon breeze, his chest carried only unease. The memories came back uninvited: slammed doors, words sharper than knives, the way his parents' voices softened only when they spoke to Eryx.
Kaein had walked with him up to the corner, but Lior had asked him to wait at the bench by the old banyan tree. "I'll go in first… if anything happens, I'll come find you," Lior had said, his voice wavering. Kaein's hand had hovered in midair, as if he wanted to hold Lior back, but he had nodded quietly.
And so, Lior stood in front of the gate now, the familiar iron bars flecked with rust, staring into the courtyard that once felt like a cage.
He pushed the gate open. The sound of its creak rang loud in his ears.
Inside, the house seemed just as it had been, only older, more worn. His father sat in the veranda chair, reading the newspaper. His mother was watering plants along the side. Neither of them looked up immediately. It was only when Lior stepped forward and said, almost softly, "I'm home," that his father lowered the paper.
The silence that followed was not the silence of shock—it was the silence of disappointment.
"Huh," his father grunted, his voice devoid of welcome. "You still have the nerve to come back here after all these years?"
Lior's heart dropped, but he forced himself to stay still. "I… I just wanted to see you both. I thought—maybe…"
His mother's eyes flicked up at him briefly, but instead of warmth, there was only irritation. "What is there to see? You abandoned us. You ran away abroad without a word, without thinking how shameful it would be for us to explain. Do you know how much people whispered about our family? And now you return suddenly, as if nothing happened?"
Lior's lips trembled. "I didn't abandon you. You told me to leave. You said there was no place for me here."
"Don't twist our words," his father snapped, slapping the newspaper against his thigh. "We only asked you to be responsible, to stop embarrassing us. But you chose to run away. You never called, never wrote—"
"I had no one to call to!" Lior raised his voice, his eyes stinging. "Every time I tried to reach out, you reminded me how unwanted I was. Do you even realize what I went through alone all these years? How I—"
Before he could finish, footsteps echoed on the stairway inside the house. A tall young man stepped out, his face sharp, expression smug. Eryx.
"Look who's back," Eryx said coldly, folding his arms. "The useless older brother who couldn't live up to anything. Why did you even bother to return? Nobody here is waiting for you."
Lior's throat closed up. He had prepared for this, yet hearing it broke him all over again.
Eryx walked closer, his tone dripping with disdain. "You think you can just waltz in after disappearing for a decade and pretend like you belong? News flash—you don't. You were never good enough for this family. That's why mom and dad always favored me. Because at least I didn't shame them."
"Eryx!" Lior's voice cracked. "I never asked for their favoritism. I just wanted to be treated like a son. Like a brother."
Eryx smirked, tilting his head. "Well, that's the difference. I am their son. You? You're just a mistake they regret."
The words slammed into Lior harder than any physical blow. His knees almost buckled. His mother didn't stop Eryx, his father didn't scold him. They just… let him speak. Their silence screamed louder than anything.
Lior swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "I came here hoping… maybe you'd ask how I've been. Maybe you'd care, even a little. But you didn't even look at me properly. Not once."
His father's face tightened. "You made your choices. You live with them. Don't come back here expecting sympathy."
That was the end of it.
Lior turned on his heel, his body trembling. As he stepped out of the gate, his chest felt like it was tearing apart.
---
"So this is what it means to return home. Not a single word of concern. Not even a glance of love. Ten years gone, and still, I am only the unwanted child. My own parents look at me as if I am dirt beneath their shoes. My brother spits venom, and they let him, as if it is the truth. Maybe it is the truth, to them.
Why did I expect anything different? Why did I hope? I'm such a fool. There's no place for me here, no place in this house that calls itself a family. I endured everything—loneliness, hunger, nights without warmth—telling myself that maybe, one day, I would be wanted. But they have made it clear: I never was, and I never will be.
Fine then. If they don't want me, I will never set foot here again. They have lost their son. Someone else will love me, someone else already does. Kaein… you're the only one left. Wait for me. Please… wait for me."
---
By the time Lior reached the old banyan tree, tears blurred his vision. His steps quickened, then faltered, until he finally collapsed onto the bench where Kaein was waiting.
Kaein immediately leaned forward. "Lior—what happened? What did they say?"
The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of the sea. The streets were hushed except for the rustling of leaves, and the occasional sound of a motorbike passing in the distance. On the park bench under a half-lit streetlamp, Lior sat with his hands buried in his hair, shoulders trembling. His chest burned with the weight of unshed sobs, but when Kaein approached quietly and sat beside him, the dam finally broke.
"I shouldn't have gone there…" Lior's voice cracked, heavy with bitterness. "They didn't even look at me properly, Kaein. Not once. It was as if I… didn't exist for them."
Kaein turned, watching him, his heart twisting. He had never seen Lior like this—so broken, so raw. He gently reached out, placing a hand on Lior's back. The warmth seeped into Lior's shivering body, and instead of pulling away, Lior leaned into him, as if clinging to the last thing keeping him together.
"They asked nothing about me. Not if I was well, not if I had eaten, not if I… survived," Lior's voice shook, thick with pain. "Eryx—he told me I wasn't welcome. He told me to go back, that I was… nothing. Why did I even go back? Why did I think—" His words dissolved into muffled sobs.
Kaein's hand moved slowly up and down his back, steady and grounding. "Because you hoped," he murmured softly. "Because you still wanted to believe there was something left there for you. That's not weakness, Lior. That's you being human."
Lior's fists clenched tightly, nails digging into his palms. He turned his face, hiding against Kaein's shoulder, his tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. His voice came out muffled, but desperate: "Why wasn't I enough, Kaein? I did everything. I worked hard. I endured everything alone. And still… they only saw him. Only him."
Kaein swallowed hard, fighting the ache in his throat. His arms shifted, wrapping around Lior fully, pulling him into his chest. "You don't need to be 'enough' for them," he whispered, the firmness in his tone breaking through Lior's spiral. "You're enough already. You've always been."
Lior stiffened, breath hitching, as if those words were something he had been waiting years to hear but never dared to hope for. Slowly, he tilted his head up, his eyes red, lashes wet, meeting Kaein's gaze in the dim light.
"Kaein…" His lips trembled, his voice barely a whisper. "Then… can I stay? Not there. Not with them. But with you?"
Kaein's heart stopped for a beat. He reached up, brushing his thumb gently across Lior's cheek, wiping away the tears. His touch lingered, tender yet certain. "You don't even have to ask," he said softly. "You belong with me. Always."
The words hung between them, thick with meaning. Lior's lips parted, but no sound came. He simply leaned forward, resting his forehead against Kaein's, his breath warm and uneven. For a long moment, neither of them moved. The night wrapped around them like a veil, as if the world had shrunk to just this bench, just the two of them.
And in that fragile silence, the truth they had both been afraid to face flickered to life—burning quietly, but undeniably.
Kaein held him closer, whispering, "Cry as much as you need. I'll be here when it stops. I'll be here when it starts again. I'm not going anywhere."
Lior's lips curved faintly, bitter yet softened, and he let himself sink into Kaein's embrace. "Then don't ever let me go," he murmured.
"I won't," Kaein promised, his hand resting against the back of Lior's head, fingers threading gently through his hair. "Not now. Not ever."
The waves roared faintly in the distance, the lamplight dimmed, but on that bench, under the quiet night sky, two hearts finally dared to take one trembling step closer.