The soft clink of a coffee mug against the kitchen counter echoed through the apartment, but neither of them spoke.
Arthur stood by the sink, silently rinsing the dishes, while Nick leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching him. Tension sat between them like fog, thick and cloying, clinging to every word left unsaid.
Nick hadn't planned to bring it up again—not tonight—but the silence made it unbearable.
"So… he called you again? "
Arthur stilled. The sponge in his hand paused mid-swipe over the porcelain plate. Slowly, he set it down, exhaled through his nose, and turned to face Nick.
"Yes. Just once. I didn't answer."
Nick studied him. "Why didn't you block his number? "
Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I wanted to. I just... I don't know. I believed if I ignored him long enough, he'd stop."
But he hadn't stopped.
Ake was relentless, always finding a new way to linger on the outskirts of their life—dropping texts, showing up at public gatherings when Arthur was planned to attend, even giving modest gifts. Harmless, on the surface. Just enough to provoke concerns and arouse skepticism. The most recent gift was a framed snapshot of a drawing Arthur had previously painted of Ake—back when things were fuzzy, when Arthur had been attempting to heal from Nick's absence and pretended affection with Ake to mask the hollow aching inside.
Nick has seen the sketch before. He recognized its genesis. But finding it again, elegantly framed and accompanied by a handwritten note—"Some moments aren't meant to fade"—hit differently.
It felt like a message. A warning. A quiet taunt.
"Are you sure you're not… hiding something from me? " Nick asked, his voice low but sharp, and instantly regretted it.
Arthur blinked. His shoulders straightened defensively. "What's that supposed to mean? "
Nick hesitated, selecting his next words carefully. "I mean… are you still in touch with him beyond what I know? Is there something more you're not telling me? "
Arthur's eyes clouded with hurt. "Nick. I married you. I selected you. I've always picked you. How can you even ask me that? "
"Because you haven't blocked him. Because you keep blowing things off like they don't matter, but they do," Nick said, voice rising. "He clearly wants something, Arthur. And I see how he looks at you—like he's still got a chance."
Arthur clenched his hands. "You think I don't see that too? You think I'm blind to what he's doing? I used him, Nick. I used him to get back at you. And I've told him—more than once—that I don't feel the same way. But he doesn't care."
Nick came closer, voice strained. "Then why do I feel like he's still in your head? "
Arthur's lips parted, and for a time, nothing came out. Because he didn't know how to describe it—the remorse, the sorrow, the bewilderment Ake provoked without even trying. Not because Arthur felt feelings for him, but because he didn't, and Ake's tenacity kept dragging him back into a history he was trying to move on from.
He shook his head. "He's not. I'm just… trying to be careful."
Nick's jaw clenched. "Careful doesn't mean distant, Arthur."
Arthur looked aside.
The hush returned, heavier this time.
That night, they slept on separate sides of the bed.
Over the next few days, Ake continued his modest campaign.
Arthur received a bouquet of pale blue lilies—his favorite—with a message that read, "When you're ready to talk, I'll be here."
Nick saw the roses before Arthur could hide them.
Arthur hurled them out, enraged at himself for not warning the delivery boy off. But it didn't undo the fracture they had caused.
Nick didn't yell. He didn't even bring it up.
That, somehow, hurt more.
Later the following week, Nick attended a charity gala alone. Arthur had a last-minute gallery appointment and promised to meet him there, but he arrived late—and stepped straight into a sight that chilled him to his core.
Ake.
Standing behind Nick with a wine glass in hand, smiling with just enough charm to seem courteous. From afar, it nearly looked like they were having a friendly chat.
Nick wasn't smiling.
Arthur stormed across the ballroom, heart thumping in his chest. "Nick."
Nick turned toward him with relief flashing in his eyes, but before Arthur could reply, Ake cut in.
"I was just telling Nick how talented you are. I saw your new exhibition piece. Stunning. Makes me wonder what motivates your art these days."
His tone was charmingly taunting, but the glare he flashed at Nick wasn't.
Arthur stepped between them. "Ake, we're leaving. Now."
Ake's smile grew, maddeningly calm. "Of course. I wouldn't want to stir issues. I'm sure Nick trusts you completely."
Arthur didn't answer. He merely took Nick's hand and hauled him out of the gala hall, ignoring the stares.
In the car, the silence was awful again. Until Nick responded, "What did he mean by that? "
Arthur gritted his teeth. "He's trying to plant doubt. That's all he ever does. Don't let him get to you."
Nick didn't answer, but the stiffness in his posture showed it already had.
A few days later, Mia came over for coffee, sensing the pressure between them. As Arthur made drinks in the kitchen, she pulled Nick away.
"You trust him, right?" she asked gently.
Nick ran a hand through his hair. "I want to."
"But? "
He sighed. "But sometimes it feels like I'm fighting a ghost. One I can't compete with."
Mia softened. "Then don't compete. Just remember, Arthur, that you're the one who stayed."
That night, Nick found Arthur at the studio, surrounded by unfinished canvases.
"Do you still love me? " Nick asked quietly, startling Arthur.
Arthur looked up, blinking in uncertainty. "Of course I do."
"Then fight for us. Don't let Ake keep pulling us back into the past. I need you to be with me—present. Not trapped trying to tackle him alone."
Arthur crossed the room in two steps, cradling Nick's face in his palms. "I am with you. Every piece of me. But I've never had to battle for love like this before. And sometimes, I don't know how to win."
Nick leaned in, placing his forehead against Arthur's. "Then let's figure it out together. Before we lose each other again."
But even as their hands found one another in the darkness, a doubt lingered between them.
Was love enough to survive the poison of doubt?
And somewhere in Bangkok, Ake smiled to himself.
The seeds were planted.
Now he only had to wait.