Itay.
The name rose like bile in Logan’s throat, sharp and bitter, weaving itself into every thought, every doubt. Logan hadn’t asked Adrian not to go. He hadn’t had the right. But still, it gnawed at him, the way Adrian had made the choice so easily, the way he had walked away, leaving Logan to sit alone at a table meant for two, to finish a meal that had turned cold in his mouth.
It felt like abandonment. Like a quiet kind of rejection.
And maybe that was unfair. Maybe it was selfish.
But as Logan sat there, watching the skyline blur into the sea, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Adrian had made a choice tonight.
And it wasn’t him.
A decision began to form like a closed fist in his mind. He needed to leave, to go before he sank any deeper into the uncertain depths of whatever they had become. He rose and walked back toward the cabin, glancing at the time on his phone. Adrian had been gone just barely an hour, plenty of time for Logan to gather his things and find another place to stay before heading to the airport in the morning. They needed to break this current that pulled them together; he needed to be on his own.
Back inside, Logan worked quietly, digging through drawstring fabric sacks, shoving his clothes into his duffel without bothering to fold them. He grabbed his toiletries from the bathroom and stuffed them in, too. Within minutes, nearly everything he owned was packed up, including his still-damp board shorts, which he shoved into the laundry sacks, not caring if they grew musty.
The door opened, and Adrian stepped inside, his hair damp as if he’d walked through a sudden burst of rain. The wet season could do that here, drenching a traveler without warning.
“Hey,” Adrian said.
Logan didn’t respond. He ducked back into the bathroom, making sure he’d left nothing behind. Adrian continued, as if oblivious to the tension. “What have you been doing tonight?” he asked lightly, noticing Logan unplugging his charger.
Logan ignored him again, slipping the charger into his duffel, followed by his laptop. He could feel Adrian’s eyes on him, searching for an explanation.
“Are you going somewhere?” Adrian asked. There was an unmistakable tremor in his voice, a note of panic that made Logan’s heart pound a little harder.
“Yeah,” Logan said simply, like it was a minor decision, like it hadn’t been boiling inside him for the past hour. He moved to the chair where he’d been casually tossing clothes since they arrived, now just a makeshift pile of shirts and shorts. He scooped them into a reusable cotton bag and shoved it into the duffel, not caring how crumpled they got.
“Where?” Adrian asked, his voice quavering as he came closer. Logan could almost sense him reaching out, though he didn’t touch him.
Logan zipped his duffel up, then scanned the room one last time before putting it on. “I don’t know yet.” Logan’s voice was flat. Controlled. Too controlled. The lie tasted bitter as it left his mouth. “I just thought about it and… maybe it was a mistake. Us traveling together. I mean… we barely know each other.” The words took on an angry tone now, it was a failed attempt to use anger to mask the hurt he felt. “It was nice,” he added, a final stab dressed as politeness. “But I think it’s time we part ways.”
He wouldn’t admit how much he’d miss Adrian or how hard it was to leave. Instead, he turned toward the door, determined to find his own path and break free from the uncertain bond tugging at him from behind.
But Adrian was faster.
In an instant, he was in front of him, planting himself between Logan and the exit like a wall made of heat and heartbreak. His body blocked the doorway, but it was his eyes that stopped Logan cold—wide, wounded, carrying the shape of something cracking open.
“Are you kidding me?” Adrian’s voice landed like a slap, sharp and bright as shattered coral beneath a calm wave. “You’re just leaving? Why? Because I went with my friends?”
He stood too close, close enough for Logan to feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough to catch the scent of alcohol on his breath and the cologne still clinging to his skin. The ghost of laughter followed him in, echoes of the night he chose to share with others.
And suddenly, Logan couldn’t breathe. He imagined Itay’s arm slung casually around Adrian’s shoulders, imagined Adrian smiling in that easy, familiar way he hadn’t smiled at Logan in hours.
It was unbearable.
He felt it again—that bite. Sharp. Merciless. The thought of Adrian choosing that tide over him, floating back into old currents as if Logan had never existed.
And here Adrian was now, blocking the door, eyes wide and voice cracking, askingwhy.
But Logan didn’t know how to answer. Because the real answer wasn’t about the party. It was about the pain of wanting someone who might still belong somewhere else.
Adrian chosehim.
The thought of Adrian caught in Itay’s pull, orbiting someone else’s gravity, sent a hot surge through Logan’s chest, as if something had torn him out of place.
Logan tried to shoulder past him, but Adrian caught him, strong hands gripping tight, refusing to let go. Beneath Logan’s skin, an undercurrent of frustration and hurt churned, dangerous and unseen. He twisted free for a second, but Adrian held fast, determined, like a reef catching a stray line and refusing to give it back.
“How dare you?” Logan spat, voice rough. “You’re my only friend here, and you fucking ditched me! You left me alone to go and spend the night with your ex!”
