Logan lay sprawled on his back on the cold, polished floor, staring up at the ceiling. The ornate chandelier above him, an extravagant centerpiece of the meticulously designed house, blurred in his vision. Everything in this house was perfect, impeccably chosen, painfully expensive, but it felt empty. Just like him.
All he wanted was to be outside. To see the sun. To feel its warmth seeping into his skin, to hear the water lapping against his body, the hum of adrenaline rushing through his veins as he rode the waves. The longing for it—for freedom, for life—was almost unbearable.
All he wanted was Adrian.
All he wanted was to share that life with Adrian.
All he wanted was to turn back the clock two years and undo the choices that led him astray, yearning for the simple innocence of a bygone era.
Slowly, so fucking slowly, Logan dragged himself back to his feet. The weight pressing on his chest made it feel impossible to move, but lying there forever wouldn’t erase what he’d done. It wouldn’t undo the damage. He couldn’t hide from the consequences of his actions, no matter how much he wanted to.
He took the present in his hands, turning that heavy object around again and again. After some consideration, he tore open the wrapping paper, revealing another box wrapped in a glossy cardboard sleeve. Inside was a dark green leather box stamped with the Rolex crown. Lifting the lid of the polished box, he examined the watch inside as it ticked steadily, each click adding to the irony of the moment. After a moment or so, he set the open box on the bed and left the room.
He stumbled to the bathroom, his steps heavy and unsteady, and splashed cold water on his face. The sting of it did little to shake the numbness clinging to him. He stepped into the shower, hoping the warmth would soothe him, cleanse him, bring him some measure of calm. But as the water cascaded over his body, it felt meaningless. He scrubbed his skin until it was pink, as if he could somehow wash away his mistakes, but the heaviness in his chest remained.
Afterward, he dried off, pulled on a simple pair of jeans and a shirt, leaving his expensive suits untouched in the closet. They felt like part of the smokescreen he couldn’t bear to wear anymore. He grabbed his coat and stepped out into the cold, leaving the house behind without a second glance.
The drive to Zack’s apartment was quiet, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He felt numb, but beneath that numbness was a simmering tension he couldn’t escape. He’d been horrible to Zack; unfair, cruel, projecting all of his pain and denial onto someone who didn’t deserve it. Zack hadn’t asked for any of this, and yet Logan had made him the target of his anger and shame.
As he pulled up to Zack’s building, Logan felt a flicker of doubt, but he pushed it aside. He had to do this. He parked and hurried up to the apartment, his steps quick, his movements driven by something he couldn’t quite name. Reaching Zack’s door, he knocked hard, his fist hitting the wood with more force than he intended. He could hear the faint rustle of movement inside.
Zack was awake. Of course he was. After everything that had happened, Logan doubted Zack had gotten any sleep at all. Logan knew the hours Zack kept, working through the nights and resting during the day, but last night’s events had probably stolen any chance of peace. Logan had done that; he had shattered something, and now it was time to try to pick up the pieces.
He stood there, waiting, in the cold air of the hallway. He didn’t know what he’d say, didn’t know if Zack would even let him in, but he had to try. He owed Zack that much, if not more.
“What do you want?” Zack asked, his voice flat, as he opened the door. His eyes were tired, dark circles beneath them, but they still held the guarded strength of someone trying to protect himself from further hurt.
“Can we talk?” Logan asked, his voice low, almost breaking. His eyes pleaded with Zack, unguarded in a way they rarely were.
Zack stood there for a long moment, silent, his hand still on the doorknob. Logan could see the hesitation in his face, the internal debate over whether to let him in or tell him to get lost. But then, with a quiet sigh, Zack stepped aside, leaving just enough space for Logan to enter.
Logan stepped inside, the familiar scent of Zack’s apartment washing over him. He heard the soft click of the door closing behind him, but Zack didn’t look at him, his body still tense, his jaw tight.
“I told Sandy,” Logan said after a beat, his voice tentative. “My wife… I told her I’m gay.”
Zack’s eyes lifted then, finally meeting Logan’s. There was surprise there, subtle but undeniable, and something else, a flicker of appreciation, maybe even respect. “I’m happy for you,” Zack answered simply, his tone even. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t let his expression betray anything more. Logan watched his movements as he sat down on the edge of the couch, leaving a distance between them that felt deliberate.
Logan buried his hands in his coat pockets. “Zack, I’m so sorry,” Logan murmured, standing awkwardly near the edge of the room. “I really am. I didn’t mean to… to be so disgusting. I shouldn’t have burst at you like that. You didn’t deserve it.”
Zack nodded slowly, his face still guarded. “No, I didn’t,” he agreed after a pause, though his tone wasn’t accusatory. It was a simple statement of fact.
“It’s just… the bracelet is… very important to me,” Logan said, his voice faltering as he stared at the floor. The words felt too small to hold the weight of what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. He wondered if he was ready to share Adrian with someone else, if he could bring himself to speak aloud the memories he had guarded so fiercely. But the heaviness in his chest demanded release, and Logan knew he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
He took a deep, shaky breath, though it felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room. His hands trembled slightly as he opened his mouth again. “I met him in Hawaii,” he began, the words tumbling out hesitantly at first. “I was… drowning. Literally drowning. He saved me. Pulled me out of the water and brought me back to life.”
Logan paused, his throat tightening, but Zack’s quiet, steady gaze urged him to continue. “He gave me the bracelet that same day. Later, much later, he told me it was his mother’s… that she had given it to him to protect him. And after he saved me, he… he wanted it to protect me too.”
He swallowed hard, the memories rushing back in vivid detail. “That was the day we became friends. Best friends. We traveled together for four months. He was… God, he was everything. He was always there, no matter how much of an asshole I was, no matter how moody I got. He never left.” Logan let out a shaky laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “I got jealous sometimes. Stupid, pointless jealousy when he’d laugh with someone else, or talk to someone. But he never held it against me. He just… he made me feel like I mattered.”
Logan’s voice broke, and he closed his eyes, letting the flood of memories overwhelm him. “And his smile… God, Zack, his smile. Every time he smiled at me, I felt like I wanted to die because I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle how much I loved him.”
Zack didn’t utter a word, but his expression softened, his eyes brimming with an unplaceable emotion, perhaps empathy, or something more tender and intimate. Thus, Logan allowed the dam to break, revealing everything from the very beginning. At one point, Zack rose and made his way to the kitchen. Logan hesitated, uncertain about continuing, but when Zack returned with two steaming cups of coffee, Logan recognized that his words could no longer be stopped; they flowed uncontrollably.
Logan’s voice quivered with emotion as he recounted his and Adrian’s journey. He relived the nights filled with laughter, the serene silences shared on the beach, and how Adrian always seemed to intuitively understand Logan’s needs, even when he himself was oblivious. Logan poured out the ache that enveloped him each time Adrian’s fingers brushed against his skin, how he often lay awake for hours just to observe Adrian asleep, moonlight gracefully dancing across his features.
And then Logan began to cry. The tears came suddenly, spilling over as the memories turned darker. How he had run away in the night. How he had blocked Adrian’s number before boarding the plane, cutting him off completely. The guilt of it, the weight of his choices, crushed him as the words poured out.
Zack moved from his chair to sit next to Logan, his posture tense, his eyes fixed on him as though he were bracing himself for what came next. Logan told him everything. He laid it all bare, every detail, every regret, every moment he had tried and failed to bury.
