quickly, quickly

6

The glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room as I pulled off my tie and tossed it onto the chair. Tyler was in the bathroom, the sound of running water muffled by the closed door. I sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair, my mind a tangled mess of thoughts and regrets.

Brendon's face flashed in my mind—the way he'd looked at me today, the unspoken tension crackling between us. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake him from my thoughts. It was wrong, all of it, and yet there was a pull I couldn't explain, a gravity that kept drawing me back.

I glanced toward the bathroom door, guilt twisting in my gut. Tyler didn't deserve this. He was everything to me—the steady anchor in the chaos of my life. But lately, every time I looked at him, all I could feel was the widening gap between us, a chasm I didn't know how to bridge.

The water shut off, and a moment later, Tyler emerged, towel hanging dangerously low around his hips. He offered me a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Bathroom's all yours," he said softly.

"Thanks," I replied, standing up. As I passed him, I reached out to touch his arm, but he was already moving toward the bed, his attention elsewhere.

In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would clear my head. Staring at my reflection, I barely recognized the person looking back. "What are you doing?" I whispered to myself. There was no easy answer.

When I returned to the bedroom, Tyler was already under the covers, his back turned to my side of the bed. I hesitated before slipping in beside him, the space between us feeling larger than ever. For a moment, I considered saying something, anything to break the silence, but the words tangled in my throat.

"Goodnight," I finally managed.

"Night," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

I lay there in the darkness, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. Sleep wouldn't come easily tonight; I knew that much. My thoughts drifted back to Brendon—the curve of his smile, the challenge in his eyes. Frustration and desire warred within me, but beneath it all was an ache of guilt that gnawed at the edges of my conscience.

---

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. I blinked awake, surprised to find that I'd slept at all. Turning over, I saw that Tyler's side of the bed was empty—the sheets neatly smoothed out. The faint clatter of dishes from downstairs told me he was already up.

I dressed quickly and headed down to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes greeted me. Tyler stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with the same careful precision he brought to everything he did. He glanced up as I entered, offering a brief smile.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning," I replied, moving to pour myself a cup of coffee. "You didn't have to do all this."

He shrugged, not looking at me. "You've got the donor gala tonight. Thought I'd make sure you started the day right."

Guilt twisted in my stomach. Tyler was always doing things like this—thoughtful, selfless gestures that reminded me how much he cared. "It smells amazing," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "You're spoiling me."

He didn't respond, instead plating the pancakes and setting them on the table. Jim padded into the kitchen, his tail wagging as he settled by Tyler's feet. Tyler gave him a quick scratch behind the ears before sitting down across from me.

We ate in relative silence, the tension between us unspoken but palpable. I tried to make conversation, telling him about some last-minute changes to the gala setup. He nodded along, but his responses were short, almost distracted.

"You sure everything's okay?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Tyler set down his fork, his gaze steady but guarded. "Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind."

I nodded, not wanting to push. Instead, I reached across the table, covering his hand with mine. "Thank you for this. It means a lot."

He gave me a faint smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're welcome."

After breakfast, Tyler grabbed his bag and keys while I cleared the table. I followed him to the door, where he paused, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Good luck with the gala tonight," he said.

"Thanks," I replied. "You sure you don't want to come? I'd love to have you there."

He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "It's your event, Josh. Besides, I've got work to catch up on tonight."

"Okay," I said softly, stepping closer. "Drive safe."

He nodded, leaning in to kiss my cheek. It was quick, almost mechanical, but I tried not to let it sting. "See you tonight," he said before heading out.

I stood by the window, watching as he climbed into his car and backed out of the driveway. As the engine faded into the distance, I felt a pang of longing for the way things used to be between us. But even as I resolved to make things better, the thought of Brendon waiting at the gallery crept into my mind, bringing with it a swirl of guilt and anticipation.