The previous night had ended on a heavy note. Matthew had brought Sam back home after finding him drunk, and on that same night, he had encountered Mr. Khanna, who had insulted Sam harshly. Matthew had carefully taken Sam to his bedroom and was about to leave when Sam's voice, soft yet piercing, stopped him.
"Don't you want to know who Mr. Khanna really is?" Sam asked, his tone distant, almost as if he were speaking more to the window than to Matthew.
Matthew froze at the doorway. He turned back slowly and met Sam's eyes, which were filled with a strange mixture of sorrow and longing. "Yes," Matthew admitted quietly, "I do want to know. What
exactly was he saying downstairs?"
Sam shifted his gaze toward the window, his eyes reflecting the dim light of the moon. In that low, broken voice, he whispered, "You know, Matthew… Mr. Khanna is none other than my father."
Matthew's eyes widened. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "But sir," he stammered,
"Mr. Khanna never married. He always said he had no family. In fact, he told me you were just a relative's son."
Sam gave a small, bitter laugh. "No one knows the truth about Mr. Khanna. No one knows what's
hidden behind the polished image he shows the world. He gave me this company, not out of trust,
but because he thinks all I ever make are wrong decisions. He wanted me to fail. He said, 'If you
believe your choices are right, then run my company for one month. Double its profits if you can.
Otherwise, you'll finally realize how foolish you are.'"
Sam's voice cracked, and his eyes shimmered with tears. "He never believed in me, Matthew. Not
once."
Matthew's chest tightened. He was beginning to understand the depth of the pain Sam carried.
Hesitantly, Matthew asked, "But why does he think your decisions are always wrong? There must be a reason behind such hatred."
Sam's eyes dropped to the floor. His voice grew even quieter. "Do you know what my mistake is, Matthew? My mistake… is that I like men. The day I confessed this to my father, he stopped looking at me as his son. From that day until now, he has never once spoken to me with warmth. Every
choice I make, every path I take, he stamps it as wrong simply because of who I am."
Matthew swallowed hard, his heart sinking at Sam's confession.
Sam continued, his tone filled with memories and pain. "It wasn't always like this. Mr. Khanna wasn't always so harsh. When my mother was around, things were different. But one day, she left…
she left because of him. Even then, he took care of me. He raised me, even when his own heart was broken. But the moment I told him I liked men, his love turned to hatred. From then on, he could no longer accept me. That was also the day I finally understood why my mother had left him.
And ever since, I've carried both his hatred and my loneliness."
Sam's tears slipped down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away, but they only kept flowing.
Matthew couldn't hold himself back. He placed his hands firmly on Sam's shoulders, steadying him.
His voice was filled with warmth as he said, "Sam, liking men is not a mistake. Love is love. A person can love anyone — gender, age, caste, none of it matters. Love happens because our souls find comfort in another. And if you've found that comfort in men, then so be it. There is nothing
wrong with that."Sam's breath caught. Matthew's words felt like a healing balm on wounds he had carried for years.
Something inside him broke open, and without even realizing it, Sam leaned forward and pressed a
sudden, gentle kiss against Matthew's cheek.
Matthew was startled. His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he simply stared at Sam. Sam's face was lowered, his expression innocent, almost vulnerable, as though he had acted without
thinking.
Without stopping to question himself, Matthew closed the distance and placed his lips softly against
Sam's. What started as a hesitant touch grew deeper. The kiss was tender, yet filled with unspoken emotions that had been locked away for too long.
One kiss turned into another. Slowly, almost unconsciously, they began removing the barriers
between them — the clothes, the distance, the hesitation. They weren't rushing; they were simply
letting their emotions lead the way.
That night, the room carried the weight of everything unsaid. The pain, the comfort, the longing, and
the acceptance — all of it blended together as Matthew and Sam held on to each other. Perhaps it was the intensity of the moment, or perhaps it was the loneliness both had felt, but neither resisted.
They found warmth in each other's arms, letting the night consume them in silence. When two people are broken yet seeking comfort, sometimes they simply surrender to what feels right.
Matthew and Sam did the same. They spent the night together, wrapped in each other's embrace,
stripped of both clothing and fear.
By the time sleep came, they were curled up close, skin against skin, their hearts beating in sync as
though they had always belonged there.
---
Morning arrived quietly. The pale winter sunlight filtered into the room. Matthew stirred awake first.
He blinked slowly, realizing Sam was still asleep beside him, his face calm, almost childlike in its peace.
But as Matthew looked down, a sudden flush of realization rushed over him. Neither of them had any clothes on. The memory of last night returned in fragments — the kisses, the closeness, the surrender. Matthew felt his heart race. A mix of embarrassment and fear washed over him.
His body felt sticky, his skin carrying traces of the night. He glanced at Sam and then quickly slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake him. He gently pulled a blanket over Sam's body before heading toward the bathroom.
The warm shower cascaded over him, washing away the heaviness of the night, but not the memories. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped out, his hair damp, his muscles gleaming
under the morning light. Years of disciplined workouts had sculpted his body, and now, wet strands of hair fell over his forehead, making him look even more striking.
As he stepped into the room, he realized Sam was awake. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second
before both quickly looked away, an awkward silence filling the air.
It was December, the heart of winter, but thanks to the heater, the room was comfortably warm.
Still, both of them felt a chill, not from the cold but from the weight of unspoken words.
Finally, Matthew gathered the courage to break the silence. His voice was low, hesitant. "Sam…
where are my clothes? They're… ruined from last night."Sam nodded quietly and began to sit up. But the moment he tried to rise, a sharp pain struck
through his body, making him gasp and groan softly.
Matthew's heart leaped in panic. "Sam! Are you okay? What's wrong? Tell me!"
Sam winced, clutching at the sheets. His voice trembled. "I… I don't know. There's just so much pain… I can't move properly."
Matthew's face turned pale. A storm of guilt and fear surged inside him. He took a step closer,
wanting to help but unsure how.
The room hung heavy with tension, their gazes meeting once again — filled with questions, worries,
and the fragile threads of something that had only just begun.
To be continued…
What happened to Sam? What will this mean for Matthew and Sam's bond?
Is this the start of something new, or the beginning of another struggle?
Stay with us to find out and continue with reading.