Adrian frowned slightly, but Zack continued before he could respond.
“I saw him without you, Adrian. And it wasn’t just hard—it was unbearable.” Zack’s voice was raw now, stripped of the cool detachment he had carried before. He leaned against the wall, exhaling like he was trying to steady himself.
“He drank.” Zack shook his head, staring at the floor for a second before looking up again. “A lot. More than I could keep track of. I don’t know if he ever told you, but… he was just… gone. Checked out. He wasn’t living. He wasn’t even surviving.”
Adrian’s breath hitched.
He had known Logan suffered. He had known Logan was broken. But hearing it from Zack, from someone who had witnessed Logan when Adrian couldn’t… it made the reality of it insufferable.
“He’ll be fine,” Adrian murmured, though the words barely held weight. They sounded weak even to his own ears. More for himself than for Zack. “Logan… he knows it’s a possibility.”
Zack remained silent for a moment, simply staring with an unreadable expression.
But Adrian knew what he was thinking.
Zack didn’t believe him.
Because Logan wouldn’t be fine.
And in truth, neither would Adrian if the roles were reversed.
The atmosphere between them had taken a more delicate and tentative shape. The bitterness, silent rivalry, and envy seemed to dissolve, leaving a space filled with muted vulnerability. They were just two men standing in the wreckage of Logan’s heart, both holding pieces of him, neither knowing what to do with them.
Finally, Adrian spoke. “Thank you, Zack.”
Zack’s dark brows furrowed slightly. “For what?”
Adrian let out a breath, a small, tired smile breaking through the weight of everything. “For sending him to me.”
Zack blinked, as if the words caught him off guard.
“If it weren’t for you, Logan wouldn’t have come.” Adrian’s voice was quieter now, tinged with something almost like reverence. “I needed him. I have needed him for so long. And I think, on some level, I was always waiting—praying—for him to come back.” He met Zack’s gaze, holding it with a sincerity that made his own chest ache. “You granted me my biggest wish.”
For a long time, Zack didn’t move, didn’t speak.
“Noproblem,” Zack finally murmured, but his smirk, usually laced with arrogance, was different this time, softer, touched with sadness.
Then, the door creaked open.
Logan stepped in, the scent of coffee and the crinkling sound of crisp paper bags trailing behind him. In one hand, he carried a large brown bag, in the other, a cardboard tray with two steaming cups. He stopped dead in his tracks.
His eyes flickered from Adrian to Zack, and the air in the room shifted.
Logan swallowed. His heart pounded.
“Zack?” Logan’s voice wavered slightly. “Hey. What are you doing here?” He felt his face grow hot, an involuntary blush creeping up his neck as he glanced between Adrian and Zack, his stomach twisting.
Zack stuffed his hands into his jeans pocket, his fingers moving restlessly, fumbling with something unseen. Then, as if shaking himself out of it, he let out a breath and spoke.
“Came to check on the guy you drank oceans of whiskey over,” Zack said, smirking, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
It was meant to be a joke.
And yet, Logan felt it.
Adrian let out a small chuckle, and Logan, almost instinctively, smiled back at him—a silent,Are you okay?in his gaze.
Adrian gave him a soft nod, his lips tilting up just a little, and Logan hadn’t even realized how tense he had been until it suddenly eased from his body.
