Broken Heart

32 Argument

AUTHOR'S POV

The news struck Rose like a physical blow, a sharp intake of breath that hitched in her chest. A week. Just a week until David and Kevin’s private mating ceremony, a bond forged not just between two souls, but now cemented by the life growing within David.

The irony was a cruel twist of the knife. It was Kevin himself who had unknowingly delivered the news, seeking Rose’s counsel, her ideas on how to further endear himself to David. He had spoken of grand gestures, of whispered promises, oblivious to the quiet devastation blooming in Rose’s heart.

Rose had long harbored a fragile hope, a flickering ember that refused to be extinguished despite the cold reality of Kevin’s affections lying elsewhere. Her confession, the stolen kiss at his room on that day when she learned of his destined mate, now felt like a distant, embarrassing memory.

His gentle rejection, his words of platonic affection, echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of the unbridgeable chasm between their feelings.

The impending ceremony was the finality she had dreaded, the official closing of a door that she had desperately wished would remain ajar. The thought of witnessing their union, of seeing the tangible proof of their connection, was an unbearable weight on her soul.

A quiet resolve settled within her. She couldn’t stay. She wouldn't subject herself to such agonizing proximity. A fabricated message, a summons from her father, became her chosen escape. A swift goodbye to Kevin, a carefully constructed facade of familial obligation, would be her parting act.

Meanwhile, a different kind of storm was brewing between David and his best friend, Chris. The revelation of his pregnancy had reached Chris through David himself, a hesitant confession delivered with a strange mix of resignation and determination.

The mating ceremony, David explained, wasn't the culmination of a passionate romance, but a decision born out of practicality, a shield for their unborn child against a world that often judged those without a paternal figure.

David’s voice had been flat, devoid of the usual lilt, as he recounted his reasoning. He had seen Kevin and Rose, their lips meeting at Kevin’s room, a fleeting image that had seared itself into his memory. In that moment, a cold certainty had taken root: Kevin’s heart belonged elsewhere.

Chris listened, a knot of frustration tightening in his chest. He knew David’s tendency towards quiet conclusions, his reluctance to confront uncomfortable truths. The image he had witnessed, Chris suspected, was incomplete, devoid of context.

He remembered Rose’s barely concealed yearning for Kevin, her bold confession. It was entirely possible that David had stumbled upon a moment that didn't reflect Kevin’s true feelings.

“Did you ask him about it, David?” Chris’s voice was sharp, laced with an urgency that mirrored his growing unease. “Did you even give him a chance to explain what you saw?”
David’s gaze drifted away, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the worn wooden table. “What was there to ask? I saw them, Chris.” His tone was weary, the fight seemingly drained from him.

“But you didn’t see what led up to it! You didn’t see what happened after!” Chris countered, his voice rising slightly. He, perhaps more than anyone, understood David’s deep-seated insecurities, his fear of vulnerability. This hasty decision, this marriage of convenience, felt like a self-inflicted wound, a preemptive strike against potential heartbreak.

Despite his own reservations about Kevin, a lingering resentment stemming from the knowledge of David's unspoken affections, Chris couldn't reconcile the Kevin he knew – the Kevin who spoke of destiny, of waiting for his fated mate – with the image David had painted. Kevin’s unwavering belief in the pull of destiny had always seemed genuine, an intrinsic part of his being. Could he truly have found his destined partner and yet be entangled in a moment of intimacy with another?

The contradiction gnawed at Chris.
“He believes in fate, David,” Chris argued, trying a different approach, his voice softening slightly. “He’s always talked about his destined mate. Does this… this seem like the actions of someone who has found his mate?”

David finally met his gaze, his eyes clouded with a pain that pierced Chris’s heart. “Maybe… maybe he was wrong about fate, Chris. Maybe what I saw… maybe that was his reality.” Him voice was barely a whisper, laced with a profound sadness.

The argument continued, a frustrating cycle of David’s unwavering certainty and Chris’s desperate pleas for him to reconsider, to seek clarity. Chris saw the fear in his eyes, the fear of being wrong, of opening himself up to potential hurt. He understood his desire to protect his child, but this felt like the wrong way, a path paved with unspoken resentments and unaddressed feelings.

Finally, unable to penetrate David’s self-imposed wall of conviction, Chris fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat. David, his face pale and drawn, simply rose and walked away, leaving Chris alone with his swirling thoughts and a heavy premonition of a future fraught with unspoken truths and quiet regrets. The impending mating ceremony, meant to be a joyous occasion, now hung in the air like a storm cloud, threatening to unleash a downpour of heartache.