The days stretched into weeks, and slowly, Arthur and Nick began restoring what they had lost. It wasn't easy—there were still times of uncertainty, periods when one of them would pull away reflexively, scared of being hurt again. But they always found their way back to each other.
Arthur could see it in the way Nick reached for his hand in the middle of a discussion, as if requiring that physical connection to tell himself Arthur was still there. He felt it in the way Nick kissed him—soft, slow, full with hidden promises.
It wasn't simply love that kept them together now; it was understanding. It was the grief they had undergone, the mistakes they had made, and the desire never to lose each other again.
Still, there were ghosts from the past that lingered, and one of them had a name.
The Letter
One evening, as Arthur was cleaning up the kitchen, he heard the sound of an envelope sliding under the front door. Curious, he moved over and took it up.
His name was written in recognizable handwriting.
Arthur's breath hitched. He knew who it was from before even opening it.
He paused for a time before ultimately removing the seal and bringing out the nicely folded letter inside.
Nick went into the room, drying his hands on a towel. He noticed the letter and grimaced.
"What's that? "
Arthur gulped. "It's from Tyler."
Nick froze, his expression unreadable. "Are you going to read it? "
Arthur nodded slowly. "I think I have to."
Nick didn't say anything, but he moved over and sat by Arthur on the couch, near enough that Arthur could lean against him if he needed to.
Taking a deep breath, Arthur unfurled the letter and began to read.
---
Arthur,
I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't even expect you to react.
I just want you to know that I'm sorry.
For everything.
I was selfish. I was cruel. And I damaged something lovely because of my own insecurities. I felt I could excuse it to myself by claiming that I was just exposing the truth, the truth that Nick didn't love you enough to trust you, that I was helping you see what I believed was genuine. But none of that was true. I was just trying to control something that was never mine to control.
You didn't deserve what I did to you. Nick didn't deserve it either. And even though I know I have no right to ask for anything, I just hope you both can move on without the weight of what I've done hanging over you.
I've chosen to leave Bangkok. Maybe I'll return one day, but I think I need to start again somewhere far away. Maybe that's the only way I'll ever become a better person.
Take care of yourself, Arthur. And take care of Nick.
You both deserve happiness.
—Tyler
Arthur's hands shook slightly as he laid the letter down. His heart felt heavy, but oddly, it also felt… lighter.
Nick exhaled, sliding a palm over his face. "So he's leaving."
Arthur nodded. "Yeah."
Silence settled between them. It was a lot to take in.
Nick grabbed for the letter, his fingertips brushing across Arthur's as he took it up and read over the text. When he finished, he let out a big breath.
"I don't know how I feel about this," Nick said. "Part of me is still angry at him. But another part of me… I don't know. I think I just feel tired."
Arthur understood the emotion all too well. The past had depleted them both. Carrying all that animosity would simply drag them down.
"Do you think we'll ever be friends again? " Arthur asked softly.
Nick was quiet for a time before shaking his head. "Maybe," he said. "But it's okay if we're not. What matters is that we're here, united. And we're not letting anyone come between us again."
Arthur grinned, his chest filling with love and thankfulness. He leaned toward Nick, feeling the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breath.
"You're right," Arthur responded. "We're here. And that's all that matters."
The ensuing weeks were filled with quiet times of recovery.
Arthur and Nick spent their mornings making breakfast together, their hands brushing as they reached for the same components. They spent their afternoons wandering the city, rediscovering the places they had once loved, and finding new ones to call their own.
At night, they sat on their rooftop, watching the sunset, talking about everything and nothing.
It felt real. It felt right.
A few days before Tyler was supposed to leave Bangkok, Arthur found himself standing outside a quiet café, his heart throbbing.
Nick had volunteered to come with him, but Arthur had informed him this was something he needed to accomplish alone.
He stepped inside and noticed Tyler seated near the window, staring down at his coffee. He looked different—tired, subdued, like someone who had finally confronted the repercussions of his conduct.
Tyler looked up as Arthur approached, astonishment flaring in his eyes. "You actually came."
Arthur sat down across from him. "I wasn't sure if I would."
Tyler nodded, as if he understood.
There was a long stillness before Arthur eventually spoke again.
"I read your letter."
Tyler gulped. "And? "
Arthur scrutinized him, looking for insincerity, for any clue that this was another one of his manipulations. But all he saw was regret.
"I don't hate you," Arthur remarked finally. "I did for a long time. But I don't anymore."
Tyler let out a breath, his shoulders slumping. "That's more than I deserve."
Arthur nodded slowly. "Maybe. But you're right—we all need to move on."
Tyler stared out the window, watching the folks pass by. "I think leaving is the right thing for me," he admitted. "I need to figure out who I am without all the games, without all the control. Maybe if I ever come back, I'll be someone worth knowing."
Arthur examined his words. "I hope you find that."
For the first time in a long time, Tyler smiled—not the smug, calculating look Arthur had been used to, but a little, sorrowful smile that felt sincere.
"Take care, Arthur," Tyler urged.
"You too," Arthur said.
As he walked out of the café, Arthur felt lighter. The past no longer bound him in shackles. He had finally let go.
That night, Arthur arrived home to find Nick waiting for him.
"How did it go?" Nick asked softly.
Arthur stepped over and put his arms around Nick's waist, burying his face in his shoulder.
"It went okay," Arthur whispered. "I think we're finally free."
Nick's arms tightened around him. "Yeah," he muttered. "We are."
And as they stood there, in the home they would soon leave behind, they both knew—their story wasn't about the past anymore.
It was all that followed next.