Forced Hearts [WilliamEst]

Chapter 4

The days bled into each other, an uneasy rhythm of tentative truce and simmering tension. Sometimes they managed to share space without biting words, like on mornings when William left a modest breakfast set out for Est before leaving for work. William would be gone by the time Est wandered into the kitchen, but the gesture was always there, a quiet olive branch in the form of a warm meal. Est ignored it at first, refusing to accept anything from William, especially given how easily the man made himself at home in their house, even as Est still felt like an outsider.

But despite his stubbornness, the breakfasts became harder to resist. Est would reluctantly eat, mentally cursing William each time he found the food perfectly prepared. But he never acknowledged it, choosing instead to leave his empty plate on the counter and head to work, giving no sign he appreciated William’s small acts of care.

One night, Est came home well past midnight, his shoulders slumped and exhaustion etched into his face. He hadn’t seen William for most of the day, and a part of him assumed William would already be asleep. So when he pushed open the door to the living room, he was startled to find William there, a single light casting shadows across the room as he worked on his laptop.

William glanced up, his expression unreadable. “You’re back late again.”

Est rolled his eyes, dropping his keys onto the table. “I don’t remember having to report my hours to you.”

William’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone level. “I was just checking. You look exhausted.”

Est scoffed, but he could feel the weight of the day catching up to him. “Well, I am. And thanks for the observation,” he muttered, turning to head toward his room.

But William’s voice stopped him. “Est… I know you hate this arrangement, but you don’t have to keep punishing yourself just to prove a point.”

Est froze, then turned to face him. “Punishing myself? You think I’m doing this to make a point?”

William closed his laptop, setting it aside as he looked at Est more closely. “I think… maybe you’re just too stubborn to let yourself admit this is hard for both of us.”

Est let out a harsh laugh, his frustration boiling over. “Oh, forgive me if I don’t feel sorry for you, William. You’re living your comfortable life as usual while I had to give up everything I care about for this—this setup that you seem perfectly fine with.”

William’s gaze darkened, and he stood, his patience fraying. “You think this was my choice? You act like I’m thrilled about being married to someone who hates me.”

Est opened his mouth to respond, but William didn’t give him the chance.

“I agreed because it’s what my parents wanted. But I didn’t expect to be treated like I’m the villain here. You don’t even give me a chance.” His voice softened, frustration mixing with something that surprised Est. “I know you don’t want this. But maybe, for once, we could try to make it bearable.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of his words settling between them. Est’s stubbornness flared, but a part of him recognized something in William’s gaze—a glimpse of his own resentment, his own reluctance.

“You think I haven’t tried?” Est said quietly, more to himself than to William. “Every time I try, you’re just… you act so smug, like you know better.”

William’s brows knitted, and then he sighed. “Est, it’s not about knowing better. It’s… I’m trying in my own way. The breakfasts, checking in, trying to make this house feel like home for both of us. I know you hate it here, and I know you hate me… but I don’t hate you.”

The words caught Est off guard, stealing the retort he’d had ready. There was a softness in William’s expression that felt disarming, and Est found himself suddenly, inexplicably, out of defenses.

“I’m… going to bed,” Est mumbled, avoiding William’s gaze as he quickly turned toward his room. But the words stayed with him, echoing in his mind long after he lay down, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

The next morning, William was up early as usual, preparing breakfast before heading out for the day. Est came into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and quiet, and to William’s surprise, he muttered a barely audible, “Thanks.”

William didn’t comment on it, not wanting to make a big deal, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re welcome.”

They ate in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts. After a few minutes, William cleared his throat. “So… do you have any filming today?”

Est glanced up, hesitant, but nodded. “Yeah. A long shoot. I’ll be home late.”

William nodded, making a mental note to save some dinner for him. “I’ll leave some food in the fridge.”

Est only nodded, but he didn’t look away quite as quickly as usual.

William felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could make this arrangement a little less painful.