Three Desires

Chapter 4

The inky blackness of night had fallen over the Sultano home, but Krishna remained awake. In the silence of their bedroom, a single lamp shed a soft glow on his concerned expression. He sat crouched down, his brow furrowed, staring hard at a luminous 3D model of the theatre-cultural center, a sharp reminder of the construction site he had viewed earlier that afternoon.

The slight squeak of the bedroom door caught his attention. Pacaldo, his husband, entered the room with a steaming glass of milk. Pacaldo's usually kind visage was marred with lines of concern.

"Are you still awake, love? I've prepared you some warm milk." Pacaldo inquired quietly, his voice tinged with concern. He set the glass on Krishna's desk, the clink on the wood a subtle interruption in the strained calm.

Krishna sighed and rubbed his temples, exhausted by more than just his profession. "Thanks, Pal," he muttered, his voice heavy with tiredness. "Put it on the desk, please."

Pacaldo paused, his stare evoking a silent question. "You seem stressed," he finally replied, his tone tinged with concern. "Is everything alright with the project?"

Krishna faked a smile, his expression pinched around the edges. "It's just a few hiccups, nothing we can't handle," he said, his voice lacking conviction. "Don't worry about it, love. Everything will be fine."

Pacaldo's eyes probed his, a glimmer of doubt flashing in them. But, true to his helpful character, he gave a comforting smile. "I know you'll figure it out, Krishna," he continued, his voice full of unshakeable confidence. "You're the most brilliant engineer I know."

Krishna felt a pang of remorse stab through his conscience. Pacaldo's unshakable trust seemed heavier with each passing moment. A rush of passionate affection rushed over him, and he stretched out to draw his husband into a close embrace.

"Thank you, Pal," he said quietly, his voice full of appreciation and unsaid turmoil. "You have no idea how much your support means to me. I promise I'll never let you down."

The words flowed out, a desperate commitment intended to alleviate not just Pacaldo's concerns but also the churning guilt within. Yet, even as he spoke, a dark secret coiled in the depths of his heart. The very endeavor that had caused him so much stress had also become a fertile ground for a forbidden temptation, a hidden longing that threatened to tear the tapestry of their relationship.

Pacaldo had no idea that the warmth of his embrace was tinged with chill. Krishna clutched to his husband, desperately seeking relief in the old comfort, all the while concealing a treachery that swelled in the darkness, posing a subtle threat to the vows he'd so easily proclaimed.

The clock on the nightstand displayed an unnerving 2:00 a.m., its green digits casting a disturbing light across Pacaldo and Krishna's intertwined limbs. Despite the embrace, a sense of unease hung in the air. Pacaldo, who generally slept soundly, awoke restlessly, his forehead wrinkled in a silent dream. Krishna, on the other hand, lay fully awake, his eyes expressing a conflict that went well beyond tiredness.

Krishna moved slowly and carefully to free himself from his husband's hug. He winced internally when Pacaldo let out a small sigh, one that indicated a restless sleep. Krishna felt a tinge of remorse as he looked back at his husband's calm expression, but it was swiftly replaced with a burning urgency.

He crept out of bed, his bare feet silent on the chilly flooring. He crept and approached the bedroom door, reaching for his phone on the nightstand and making every motion stealthy. With a single click of the latch, he was drenched in the chilly moonlight that filtered through the window.

With quivering fingers, he phoned the number that had been engraved in his mind, a number that promised a sensation as hazardous as forbidden. The phone rang once, twice, then a tired voice broke the silence.