The Trigger

It was the next day.

"Where is she?" Theo gritted out, one hand pressing hard against his temple as the dull ache bloomed into something sharp.

Miles stepped closer, voice calm but cautious. "She's at the airport, sir. Marla is accompanying her."

Theo's jaw clenched. "Cancel the dinner meeting tonight."

His voice cracked near the end, strained and dry. The pain had now settled at the back of his eyes, clawing its way forward.

Miles didn't question it. "Understood, sir." He took two steps back, then paused, hesitating.

Theo's bloodshot eyes flicked up to him, irritation brewing. "What?"

Miles straightened. "Apologies, sir. But… Marla said the flight's been delayed. By an hour."

Theo said nothing, his breath sharp and shallow as he leaned back into the couch. The room dimmed behind his eyelids, but the pressure in his skull refused to ease.

After a beat, he spoke, voice low and rough, "Tell me the moment she boards. I'll pick her up from the airport myself."

Miles blinked, surprised but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. "Yes, sir." He turned toward the door, but paused when Theo's voice called out again.

"Switch off the light."

Miles glanced back. Theo hadn't moved, just sat there, one hand still pressing against his temple, the other resting limply on the armrest.

The room dimmed into silence as the light clicked off, leaving only the faint glow from the city outside flickering through the tall windows. Miles stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Theo exhaled slowly, letting the darkness fold around him.

The light from his phone screen made him frown. At first, he ignored it, but the persistent buzz of notifications from the chat app kept flashing.

He reached for the phone, squinting at the screen.

You looked happy.

But I'm not.

I expected you to suffer for the rest of your life.

Today, I visited his grave and told him how easily you forgot him.

How dare you even try to covet happiness when you're the reason he died?

The words didn't explode. They sank, slow, bitter and like poison steeping through his bloodstream.

Theo stared at the screen, frozen.

The words pulsed in his mind like a ticking time bomb, each line scraping against an old, barely-healed wound.

His grip on the phone tightened.

'No. Not now.'

He could feel it—the shift. That creeping sense of detachment, like his mind was slipping out of his own body.

The warning signs were all there.

A breath. Then another. But it wasn't working.

He reached for his phone again, hands slightly trembling, and hit the speed dial.

"Miles." His voice was low, sharp, urgent. "Lock the floor down."

"Sir?"

"Don't let anyone in. No one sees me until I say otherwise. Not even Daisy Sinclair. Understood?"

Miles straightened immediately, sensing the shift. "Understood, sir."

A beat passed. Then Theo added, voice barely above a whisper, "And if I try to leave this room… stop me. No matter what I say. No matter what I do."

There was silence on the other end for a moment. Not because Miles didn't understand—he did.

"I'll handle it, sir," Miles said quietly. "I'll stay nearby."

The call ended.

Theo tossed the phone aside, the pressure in his skull clawing deeper, as if something was scraping from the inside, eager to surface. He gritted his teeth and leaned forward, elbows on knees, fighting it off.

Darkness pressed in, but it wasn't just from the room.

Theo thought of something, something that might delay this thing. His fingers trembled as he reached for his phone again. He didn't even bother to check the time, he just searched her name and hit call.

The line was ringing.

His head throbbed harder with every second. The static in his mind was getting louder, his own thoughts starting to blur and bleed into something that didn't feel like his.

'Pick up. Please, just pick up.'

One more ring.

And then her voice came through, low and confused. "Hello?"

Theo shut his eyes, clinging to the sound like a lifeline. "Daisy."

There was a pause. "Yes? Mr. Kingsley? Are you okay?"

He didn't answer immediately. He couldn't. His grip tightened around the phone. Her voice… It helped, but only a little. The edges of his vision were still dark, flickering, like his brain was short-circuiting.

"I just…" He exhaled, slow and shaky. "I wanted to know… where you are now."

"I'm still at the airport. They haven't called the gate yet," she said, her tone softening. "Did something happen?"

He swallowed hard. 

"No," he lied, almost too fast. "It's nothing important."

Another pause.

"Okay," she said quietly, sounding hesitant. "I will tell you when I board the plane."

"Hmm…okay," he breathed out, voice barely audible. "Good."

"Are you sure you are okay?" Daisy asked again, she could hear the difference in his voice.

"Yes," Then he ended the call as he didn't plan to show his weakness.

Theo sat unmoving, the phone still in his hand, his fingers cold against the glass screen. He blinked once, fighting the tremor beginning at the edge of his mind.

But then, the screen lit up again and another message from that person came again.

You don't even visit him. You pretend he never existed. You live like your hands are clean.

His chest tightened. A ringing buzzed in his ears. His grip on the phone slackened. The walls of the room pulsed, warped. And then his eyes caught another message coming in…

How dare you try to find love again, when your very existence killed him?

Something cracked. 

Theo shot to his feet, nearly stumbling. He clutched the edge of the table, his breath shallow and erratic. The ache behind his eyes throbbed violently. His reflection in the window stared back, hollow-eyed, trembling, and unfamiliar.

Silence. Then, darkness.

Click.

Miles turned his head slightly when he heard the hotel room door click open.

"Sir?"

But then, he smiled at him. A rare thing, if this were Theo Kingsley.

"Hi, Miles," the man said, eyes narrowing with a warmth that almost looked like amusement.

"It's been a while since we last met, hasn't it?"