Beyond The Fine Line

Chapter LXIV - Long Lost

The soft light pooled gently from the recessed fixtures, casting a subdued glow over the marble surfaces. The pristine and orderly kitchen seemed almost too perfect, its silence amplified by the soft hum of the refrigerator. Everything was in its place, yet the room felt hollow, as though waiting for something or someone to fill it. The air was still, heavy with an unspoken emptiness, the kind that lingered in spaces too quiet, too composed as if detachment had seeped into the walls.

It would be unbearable for most people, but Jay felt familiar and safe, as if nothing could reach him, especially so late at night. He took a sip of tea and leaned on the kitchen island, the unusual tiredness in his eyes betraying how tired he was of this persistent struggle ruling over his mind.

December was always the same. The season brought a sharp chill that seemed to settle into his bones, triggering a reflex more than a conscious reaction. He would shut down, falling deeper into the detachment that had served him well for so long. It wasn't sadness or longing but a programmed response, a way of ensuring that the things he had buried, the things that were long lost, stayed where they belonged.

But this year was different. Margaret's attempts to reconnect had shifted something, making it harder to ignore the edges of memories that threatened to resurface. It wasn't that his defences were failing, rather, they were strained, as if the pressure of it all was pushing against walls that had once felt impenetrable.

And then there was Sean. Sean, with his persistence and his innocent, well-meaning questions. Questions about his mother. About his childhood. Each felt like a tap against the glass, subtle but insistent until the surface began to crack under strain.

Where Margaret's efforts had stirred the past, Sean's curiosity pushed him further, prodding at the things Jay kept locked away. Sean didn't know, couldn't know, how dangerous it was to tread that ground. And Jay couldn't possibly explain any of this.

He knew him too well. Sean wouldn't let it slide. Most likely, he would leave the firm, the internship, and the opportunities that Margaret had opened up for him – opportunities Sean earned through his hard work. Sean wouldn't be able to stomach staying under her wing, not after knowing. And Jay couldn't allow that... he wouldn't risk Sean's future for it. It wasn't worth it. So, he dismissed Sean's questions with curt answers, hoping that his silence would be enough to deter him and make the topic die a quiet death.

In hindsight, it was just an unfortunate confluence of circumstances: Margaret's attempts to reconnect, Sean's well-meaning curiosity, and his own frayed edges. He couldn't blame Sean, not really. Sean didn't know the weight of what he was poking at. But that didn't make it any easier. It only made Jay retreat further into himself, salvaging what little he could from the wreckage of his composure while trying to get back on track.

Suddenly, the faint shuffle of bare feet against the sleek flooring broke the silence. Sean appeared in the archway, half-asleep with messy hair, wearing only his pyjama trousers as usual. He paused briefly as if surprised to see him here, and then his gaze flicked to the clock on the wall.

"Another long night?" Sean asked with concern.

Jay didn't respond immediately, still leaning against the kitchen island, one hand loosely gripping his tea mug, the other resting on the cool marble counter. The dim light softened the crisp lines of his black trousers and white shirt, his tie undone and collar slightly open. He seemed distant, his posture betraying exhaustion that went deeper than lack of sleep.

"Can't sleep?" Jay asked instead, setting down the cup.

Sean shook his head. "Just came to get some water."

Then Sean smiled softly, and in an instant, familiar warmth surrounded him as Sean gently pulled him into an embrace. It was comforting, disarmingly so, tempting him to let go of the walls he had held up for so long.