Bruised Hearts, Unspoken Words

Haru trailed behind Lucien, each step reluctant, the thick silence between them weighing more than any words could. As they reached the room, Haru hesitated in the doorway, a war brewing within him. Should I just listen to him? he thought bitterly, the corners of his eyes stinging as he blinked back tears. Do I really have to keep pretending?

The moment he entered, Lucien's voice pierced the tension. He stood near the open balcony, phone pressed to his ear, anger spilling into the air like a storm brewing. "Can't you do a single thing without me?" he barked, pacing furiously. "I'll be there in thirty minutes," he snapped before ending the call with a frustrated swipe.

Startled, Haru instinctively shrank into the corner, eyes wide. The sharpness in Lucien's tone—so raw, so unlike the teasing man from before—made his heart clench with fear. He pressed his back against the wall, hands clutching each other tightly as Lucien turned.

Lucien's gaze landed on him, and in an instant, his anger vanished behind a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Haru? Why are you standing over there like that?" he asked, stepping closer with feigned casualness. Haru didn't respond at first, his gaze flicking toward the floor, then rising to meet Lucien's with trembling defiance.

"Why were you shouting?" Haru asked, his voice soft but direct. "Were you yelling at me?"

 Lucien chuckled, the sound light but empty. "Why would I ever scold my cutie pie?" he said with a teasing smile, the endearment slipping from his lips effortlessly.

Haru blinked, stunned. Did he just call me… cutie pie? His gaze darted over his shoulder as if expecting someone else to be there. No way. He couldn't have meant me.

 Lucien laughed. "Yes, you. Who else would I call that in our room?" he said, stepping closer. "Do you really think I'd call anyone else that name? Not in this lifetime, Haru."

 But Haru's face darkened. "Don't joke with me, Lucien. I've already been fooled once. I won't make that mistake again." His tone was harsh, brittle with suppressed emotion.

Lucien's smile faltered, replaced by something more sincere. "Haru, I mean it. I wanted to explain everything, but you won't even give me a chance. Please… just hear me out."

 "I don't want to listen to your lies again," Haru said flatly. "This marriage… it was for my father's sake. I'm just counting the days. Five months. After that, I'm filing for divorce."

Lucien stood frozen, as if the words had winded him. "What…?" he murmured, stunned. But before he could respond, his phone rang again. The name flashing on the screen made him grit his teeth.

 "I have to go," he said, turning away to grab his jacket. "I'll be back by five. If you need me, call. Please." His voice held a sadness that lingered in the air even after he was gone.

Left alone, Haru sat motionless, eyes fixed on the door. His heart was a mess—anger tangled with guilt, confusion cloaked in exhaustion. He sighed and pulled out his phone, anything to distract from the hollowness inside.

Later, Haru ventured downstairs, drawn by faint voices. At the foot of the grand staircase, he spotted Lucien's parents conversing in the lavish lounge. The atmosphere shifted when Richard Caldwell saw him.

 "Haru! Come, sit with us," Richard called warmly. Haru obeyed, cautiously lowering himself onto the edge of the couch, trying to steady his nerves.

Eleanor Caldwell eyed him, lips twitching in an almost smile. "So, what were you doing before the wedding?" she asked in a tone laced with mock sweetness.

 Haru offered a polite nod. "I just completed my education. I'm currently… looking for a job," he added quietly.

 "So, unemployed," Eleanor said, her voice clipped. Haru swallowed and nodded again. "Yes, Ma'am."

Richard waved a dismissive hand. "That's not important right now. You two just got married. You should be focusing on each other. Spend some quality time together."

 Haru's eyes widened in panic. "No, I mean—it's not necessary. Really," he stammered.

"I agree," Eleanor chimed in quickly, raising a perfectly plucked brow. "If they're not interested, let's not push them."

 But Richard wouldn't budge. "Marriage takes time. You'll both settle in. And Haru, if you need anything, just ask Lucien—or the staff. Don't hesitate."

"Yes, Dad," Haru replied, the word still unfamiliar on his tongue. It felt strange, yet oddly comforting, to be acknowledged that way.

 Evening fell like a slow breath. Haru paced the room aimlessly, boredom gnawing at him. When the door finally opened, Lucien stepped in, dressed in dark slacks and a black shirt, his hair still damp from a quick rinse.

"Did you eat?" he asked gently.

 Haru didn't even look up. "And if I say no? What will you do—feed me like a child?"

 Lucien chuckled. "If that's what you want… then yes. I'll feed you."

 Haru rolled his eyes with a sigh, his chest tightening at Lucien's gentle tone. But before he could retort, Lucien added, "Dad thinks we should go to Paris for our honeymoon."

 "What?!" Haru's head snapped up. "I never agreed to that!"

 Lucien shrugged. "Well, if he said it, we don't have much of a choice."

 Haru stood up sharply. "I don't want to spend five minutes with you, let alone a trip. I said no, and I meant it."

Lucien said nothing, but the smile faded from his face. He turned without a word and walked into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft but final click.

 Haru sat alone again, the quiet swallowing him whole. But this time, the silence felt colder—an echo of words left unsaid, of hearts pulling further apart.