Betrayal

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Simon was moving from one side to the other, briskly stepping a couple of meters and another couple back. The gray-clothes fella with whom he shares space had already alerted him that if he kept going, he would punch him in the face, but he continued to do so.
It was as if he hadn't even listened to him.

The geezer rolled his eyes, "bloody hell, you've been caught, man! Get over it and stay put, you're starting to make me sick!"

The new one at that retention place finally stopped, grabbing on to the blanquecine bars that were colder than ice at the time.

He leaned as far as he was able, looking to see further, to the exit where the guards appeared and disappeared.

"Shit, please, somebody come..." he begged under his breath.

It took a few minutes for a young man in uniform to finally enter that part of the big building. Simon held his breath, praying that he came closer to him.

He stopped walking in his place.
"Are you Mr. Cowell?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Let me expla—"

"You have a visitor," he interrupts, opening the cell.

Simon had to follow the officer through various corridors and took the chance to look inside the different jails, hoping to meet some known face (of his gang), but not.

They arrived at the visitors' section, with about ten white cabins separated by thin walls.

"Your visitor is at number 5, I'll wait for you at the entrance when time runs out."

Cowell didn't have to guess who it was, he already knew.

He walked to the cabin with the right number and there he saw his husband. David was wearing a brown coat, his elegant beret, a black sweater and his dark trousers. Judging by the tiny dark spots on his shoulders, it was raining outside.

His thin eyes shone as Simon sat on the other side of the pane.

"Simon!"

"Oh my God, David, I promise you this was not in the plan."

David scratches behind his ear "oh... really?"

"I still don't understand how it happened! I was in my position, waiting for the others to give a signal. They took longer than usual and I decided to move, but suddenly the cops came and surrounded me. I thought all night and I couldn't find an explanation," he says swiftly, "it's like..."

David lowers his head.
"Simon..."

"It's like they already knew where I'd be..." Simon frowned.

"Simon..."
David called again, squeezing the phone.

"But that's impossible, how could they find out? The only ones who knew about the plan were the group, me and..."

Simon set his eyes on David's, gradually realizing something, until he understood "and you"

The slanted-eyed one grimaced, enough confirmation of the words of the other man.

"You told them!" exclaims Simon.

"Simon, listen to me, I..."

"You gave them my location, you caused them to catch me!"

David sighs tremblingly, diverting his gaze from his hurting black eyes.

"Tell me I'm wrong, David. Look at me and tell me it's not true" he doesn't get an answer, nor a look "this is what you wanted, David? to get me caught? I gave you my trust and— and you trampled on it!"

"I was afraid of losing you..."

Simon smiles bitterly "oh, great. It went out the other way around, because now not only have you lost me, since I will last in this place I don't know how many years, but you've also lost my confidence".

"Simon, I—"

"I don't want to see you again," he sentenced and dropped the telephone. He walked away with tears in his eyes, hearing the diminished cries of David calling him behind his back.
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The youngest of the entire police force walks once again to the cell that he already knew of memory because of the dozens of times that he has gone. Coming, he finds the same image as yesterday: the thirty-year-old man sitting on his bed, one leg up and his head leaning against the concrete wall.

"Mr. Cowell, you have a visitor."

He doesn't move a millimeter.
"I don't"

"Sure?"

He doesn't answer anymore.
The blond policeman grimaces and leaves, thinking about what he should say now to the poor gentleman who was waiting for him.

"You're a son of a bitch," Simon's prison mate laughs.

Simon shut his eyes, holding back his desire to fight with him.

"Here hardly anyone has a visitor and you reject it as if it were bad bread."

Simon gets up and starts to stretch his arms and legs, making his bones sound.

The old man wasn't lying about anything: every day the same officer came to tell him that there was a visitor waiting for him, and Simon always refused. Howard didn't understand what Simon's motives might be for acting like this. Howard thinks that if he had visitors, he would accept them, even if only to see something more than the goddamn four walls that enclosed them.

Howard could think of anything, but it never crossed his mind that the man with whom he shared his day-to-day life was deeply sad. The heartbreaking feeling of betrayal doesn't leave Cowell's chest at any time, not to mention his contradictory desire to leave that fucking place and run into the arms of his beloved.

His beloved who betrayed him.
Simon would never have thought it.
From the very second he understood what David had done, he completely unknown him.
A person who, according to this, loves, would do something like that?

Simon no longer knew.

Tears filled Simon's eyes and he threw himself to the ground and started doing abs. Exercising, sleeping and eating were the only things prisoners could do.
Besides lamenting all day.

Howard laughs again, "yes, you're a son of a bitch."
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