Destiny or Coincidence (AlanxJeff) VI

Starry Night

Jeff

The smoke from my tea rises in a slow spiral, forming a small cloud that dissolves into the air above my glass. I should feel its warmth, I should know it's there, comforting me as it used to, when things were different, when I still believed in something. But lately, it's as if my skin has become impermeable to the world, as if there's an invisible glass separating me from everything that used to touch my soul. It's as if every corner of my being is frozen, trapped in a thick fog that won't let me feel anything. I keep watching that tea, so warm in appearance, but unable to penetrate the wall my heart has built.

Charlie sits across from me, his eyes fixed on mine, searching for something, maybe a glimpse of life or a reaction. His concern is palpable, as if he can feel the weight I carry on my shoulders. "Jeff, you blocked him, didn't you?" His voice is soft, careful, but it's loaded with a tension I can't ignore.

I nod with a barely perceptible movement. "I did..." my voice comes out in a whisper, trembling, almost inaudible. It's as if I'm dragging the words from the bottom of a dark well. "Charlie, you're an alpha and, well... I wanted to ask you something," I say, trying to find his eyes, searching in them for an answer that gives me peace, one that eases this burden crushing me.

Charlie doesn't waver; his gaze is firm and determined. "There's no excuse," he says with a severity that cuts the air between us like a knife.

"I haven't even asked anything," I try to defend myself, but he doesn't let me continue.

"Being an alpha is no excuse to deceive anyone," he responds with unyielding conviction. "That's a lie. Someone who loves you, respects you, values you, waits for you, and helps you. They don't blame you when they're the one who makes the mistake." His voice is an anchor that grounds me to the earth, to reality, to a world where maybe there's still some hope, even if it's small and fragile.

"But I... I wasn't ready," I stammer, feeling my voice break like a dry twig under its weight. "He said it was my fault because he had... needs," I finish with a thread of voice that barely resonates in the space between us. I feel the humiliation like a tide that drowns me, as if I'm sinking into a sea of doubts and guilt I never asked to carry.

Charlie shakes his head, his face softening slightly, but his tone remains firm. "Jeff, that's a lie. Infidelities are never about you. You can be the most handsome, the hardest working, the best boyfriend... but if someone doesn't know what they want or isn't looking for the same thing as you, and they don't have the minimum respect for you, they're going to mess up. And that's not your fault." His words are like a balm on an open wound. I feel the rawness of his truth, like a ray of light piercing the shadows I've been hiding in.

Charlie leans forward, his eyes searching mine. "When you become someone's boyfriend, you take on the commitment to care for the other person's heart. It's not your fault that the other person is an idiot without emotional responsibility. You did well. You said 'I'm not ready' and didn't force yourself to do something you didn't want to, and then you said 'I don't deserve this and I don't want it' and acted accordingly. I'm very proud of you. So stop thinking it's your fault."

"Charlie..." I whisper, my voice trembling as tears start to fall, soft and silent, rolling down my cheeks like small streams in a silent storm.

"Come here," Charlie says, standing up and coming over to me. He wraps me in a strong hug, holding me tightly.

The days pass like shadows crossing an endless desert, and still, the food has no taste. It's as if everything that was once color and vibration in my life has faded, like a painting that's been exposed to the sun for too long. Music, which used to be a refuge, now has no rhythm; it sounds empty, hollow, like the echo of something that was once alive. The colors look dull, as if the world has sunk into an eternal twilight. I wake up every morning hoping something will change, that the pain will become more bearable, but time moves slowly, and the pain is still there, a constant presence that doesn't leave me.