Straightening Affairs - 18. Chapter 18

The next few weeks, Michael was overly cautious with everything he did. He worked from home entirely, monitoring everything at home with eagle-eyed vigilance. He even began to suspect the nanny might be involved somehow—though in what, he wasn’t entirely sure. Paranoia consumed him. Every sound, every glance, every offhand comment from Sarah felt like a potential landmine. He had let his guard down once, and it had almost cost him everything. That would never happen again.

But there was one loose end he couldn’t leave untied: Ryan.

Almost three weeks after the disastrous trip to New York, Michael sent Ryan a text: Meet me at the summer cottage. Find a way there. We need to talk.

Ryan’s reply came swiftly and tersely: OK.

Later that evening, Ryan's phone buzzed again. It was Michael’s mother.

“Well?” she demanded.

Ryan sighed. “He wants to talk. At Nathan’s summer cottage. He knows. I’m dead.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Ryan. He doesn’t know anything. If he did…” She let her words hang, ominously. “Well, let’s not think about that. Just stay calm. This is Michael’s mess to clean up now.”

“I can’t do this anymore!” Ryan hissed. “I want out.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” she snapped. “You’re too deep in this to back out now. Besides, I’ve told you before: don’t say a word. If you play this right, he’ll never know.”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Ryan muttered bitterly. “Why don’t you just let them live their life? He’ll screw up on his own.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said coldly. “Just remember, Ryan, you chose to be part of this. Now don’t make me regret trusting you.”

Ryan clenched his jaw but knew better than to push back further. “Fine. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“See that you do,” she replied before hanging up.

The next day, Michael drove out to Sarah’s parents' summer cottage. The remote, wooded property was quiet and secluded—a perfect spot for reflection… or confrontation. The very isolation of it sent a chill down his spine, but it wasn’t the woods he feared. He hated being out of his element, but right now, he hated Ryan’s betrayal even more.

As Michael pulled into the driveway, he saw Ryan already there, leaning against Nathan’s car. Ryan looked up, his face a mixture of smugness and unease.

“You came,” Michael said flatly as he stepped out of the car.

“You didn’t exactly leave me a choice, Mikey,” Ryan said, forcing a grin. He stepped toward Michael, as if to kiss him, but Michael held up a hand, stopping him cold.

“No, Ryan. I haven’t forgotten about New York.” Michael’s voice was as sharp as broken glass. “You know, this cottage is pretty nice. There’s a lake just a few minutes’ walk from here. Why don't we have a look?”

Ryan hesitated but nodded. “Sure, Mikey. Whatever you say.” His voice wavered, his hands twitching at his sides.

The two of them walked down a narrow path through the woods, the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs filling the silence.

“What are you up to, Ryan?” Michael finally asked, his voice dangerously calm. “You knew Sarah would be coming to New York. Why would you tell her to surprise me?”

“Mikey, you’ve gotta believe me. It wasn’t me. Nathan thought it would be a good idea, and I had to go along with it,” Ryan said quickly, his words tumbling over each other.

“No, Ryan. You didn’t have to go along with it,” Michael snapped, his eyes narrowing. “You could’ve kept your damn mouth shut.”

Ryan’s voice grew more frantic. “How? Nathan was right there! Sarah was looking at both of us. What was I supposed to say? ‘No, that’s a bad idea’? She’s your wife, for fuck’s sake!”

Something snapped in Michael. He turned on Ryan, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against a tree.

“Don’t you ever raise your voice to me again, understand?” Michael growled, his face inches from Ryan’s. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that. You do it again, and you’ll regret it. Understand?”

Ryan nodded, his breath hitching as Michael’s grip tightened briefly before releasing him.

For a moment, Ryan was stunned. This wasn’t the Michael he knew. This Michael was cold, calculating, dangerous—a cornered animal ready to lash out.

“Yeah… yeah, Mikey. Sorry,” Ryan stammered, his voice shaking. “Listen, you weren’t there. I had to say something. Nathan was elbowing me, and Sarah was looking at me like she knew something. What was I supposed to do?”

Michael’s piercing gaze didn’t waver. “You’re lying, Ryan. I can see it all over your face. You think I don’t know when someone’s lying to me?”

Ryan swallowed hard. Should he tell Michael everything? Should he throw his mother under the bus? No. She was even more dangerous than Michael. If he crossed her, he’d have more to fear than just a furious lover.

“I’m not lying,” Ryan said, forcing his voice to steady. “It was just bad timing, that’s all. I’m sorry, Mikey. I like what we have, why would I risk it? I didn’t think she would actually go.”

“My name is Michael. Don’t call me Mikey” said Michael.

“Ok, Ok… Michael” replied Ryan.

Ryan let out a shaky breath, his mind racing. He needed to think fast, but panic wouldn’t help. He straightened up and put on his most sincere expression, hoping to disarm Michael with a mix of vulnerability and deflection.

“Mikey… Michael, I get it, okay? You’re angry. But can you honestly say that I’ve ever done anything to hurt you before? I didn’t say anything at the airport, or on the plane, or at the hotel, because I didn’t think Sarah would actually follow through. Do you know how many times she’s said, ‘Oh, I should surprise Michael,’ and nothing ever comes of it? I thought it was just her being sentimental. I swear I didn’t think she’d actually show up.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, still unconvinced. “And when she told you she’d booked a flight? When Janelle got involved?”

Ryan winced, as though Michael had hit a nerve. “I panicked, okay? She blindsided me with the whole thing. And Janelle—how was I supposed to know she’d be so helpful? The whole thing snowballed, Michael. I didn’t have a chance to get ahead of it.”

Michael crossed his arms, glaring at Ryan. “You could’ve warned me. One text. One call. That’s all it would’ve taken.”

Ryan nodded earnestly. “I know, and I’m sorry. But you’ve gotta believe me—I was stuck. If I’d said something, it would’ve looked suspicious. You know Sarah would’ve picked up on it. She’s sharp, Michael. I didn’t want to screw things up for you.”

Michael’s gaze didn’t waver, and Ryan felt the pressure mounting. He needed to turn the tables—just slightly—before Michael tore into him again.

“Look,” Ryan continued, his tone softening. “I’ve been there for you through everything. You know I would never do anything to jeopardize us. I… I guess I just didn’t know how to handle it. This whole situation, with Sarah, and the sneaking around—it’s complicated, Michael. I was trying to protect you.”

Michael hesitated, the words starting to sink in. Ryan saw his chance and pressed on.

“Think about it. If I’d said anything, Sarah would’ve questioned why I knew about her plans. Then what? You think she wouldn’t dig deeper? I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want her to start asking questions. I was trying to keep your secret, not mess things up.”

Michael rubbed his temples, his frustration still simmering but slightly tempered by Ryan’s reasoning.

Standing on the dock, the calm water reflected the afternoon light, an eerie contrast to the turmoil between them. Michael put his arm around Ryan’s shoulder in a move that could have been mistaken for camaraderie. But before Ryan could process it, Michael shoved him toward the edge of the dock.

Ryan stumbled, his feet slipping on the wet wood, but Michael grabbed the front of his jacket just as he teetered over the water.

“Michael!” Ryan gasped, his voice trembling. “What are you doing? Don’t—please, don’t! I can’t swim!”

"Well, you should have learned, Ryan" said Michael as he leaned in close, his grip tightening. His voice was a menacing whisper, laced with deadly calm. “You ever pull something like this again, and you’ll end up at the bottom of this lake. Do you understand me, Ryan?”

Ryan’s heart thundered in his chest, his breathing ragged as he nodded furiously. “I… I get it, Michael . I swear. Please, pull me up!”

Michael’s eyes bore into Ryan’s, holding him there for an excruciating moment longer before yanking him back onto the dock. Ryan stumbled, his legs weak beneath him, but he didn’t dare collapse.

Michael straightened his jacket, his voice now unsettlingly even. “Good. Then we understand each other. Don’t fuck with me, Ryan. Ever.”

Ryan gulped, nodding again, his body still trembling. Relief and terror warred within him as he realized just how far Michael was willing to go. This wasn’t the Michael he thought he knew. This was someone darker—someone who would stop at nothing to protect his secret.

Ryan took a shaky step back, his mind racing. He needed a plan. Michael was dangerous, and staying too close to him could be a fatal mistake. He had to talk to Michael’s mom…

As they walked back to the car through the winding path, Ryan’s thoughts raced. His legs felt heavy, not from the uneven trail but from the sheer weight of what had just happened. Michael had almost thrown him into the water. He would have drowned. Michael had almost killed him. Almost. Would he have gone through with it? The Michael he had met years ago wouldn’t have hurt a fly, but the Michael now? The one who’d built his life on secrets and lies? Ryan wasn’t so sure anymore. He had seen the cold determination in his eyes. He had felt the grip of those hands around his neck. Michael would do anything to protect his facade. Anything.

Ryan shivered, even in the warmth of the afternoon sun. He needed to get away from this mess, but could he? Would Mrs. Evans let him walk away so easily? She was even more dangerous than Michael, always two steps ahead. The thought of crossing her made his stomach churn. He was trapped—between a mother who wanted control and a man who’d do whatever it took to keep his secrets.

Michael, meanwhile, kept his gaze firmly on Ryan as they walked, studying him like a predator stalking its prey. He knew Ryan was hiding something, but it wasn’t just New York. This was bigger. Michael could feel it. Ryan wasn’t smart enough to orchestrate something like this, not on his own. No, someone else was pulling the strings. But who? He thought by making him believe he was going to drop him in the water, Ryan would have said something. But he didn't. He was even more scared of whomever was controlling him.

His mind reeled through possibilities, but none of them fit. Andre? No, that didn’t make sense. Andre had nothing to gain from sabotaging him, and they shared too much of the same secret. Andre would never risk exposure.

Was it someone from the office? No, the people there didn’t care enough about his personal life to meddle. It had to be someone who knew him intimately—someone who stood to benefit from his downfall. But who?

The thought looped in his mind like a broken record, each pass leaving him more frustrated than the last. He had always been good at spotting patterns, piecing together puzzles, but this? This was a puzzle without edges, without clear boundaries. He couldn’t even figure out where to start.

By the time they reached the car, Michael’s frustration had boiled into a quiet rage. He would figure this out. He would find whoever was behind this. And when he did, they would regret ever trying to unravel the life he had so carefully built.

Ryan, sensing the growing tension, turned around and glanced nervously at Michael as they approached the vehicle. The silence between them was suffocating. As much as Ryan wanted to run, he knew he couldn’t—not yet. Not until he found a way to escape both Michael’s wrath and Mrs. Evans’ control.

For now, all Ryan could do was survive. And for Michael? The hunt had just begun.

Once they reached their cars, Ryan hesitated, his hand resting on the door handle. He turned to face Michael, his voice trembling. “Michael…”

Michael’s eyes burned with anger, his jaw tight. “Leave,” he growled, cutting Ryan off. “Just go.”

Ryan swallowed hard and nodded, not daring to press further. He climbed into his car, his hands shaking as he started the engine. The tension was suffocating. As soon as he was far enough down the road, he grabbed his phone and dialed Mrs. Evans.

“Mrs. Evans? It’s Ryan,” he said, his voice panicked.

“What do you want?” she snapped, her tone sharp and impatient.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Ryan blurted. “Michael… he almost tried to kill me! I’m scared. He’s going to figure it out. I want out.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before her voice returned, colder and sharper than before. “Listen to me, you little shit,” she hissed. “You are not going anywhere. Do you understand me? If you think you can double-cross me or bail now, think again. I will make your life a living hell.”

Ryan’s breath hitched, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel. “But… Michael. If he figures it out—”

“Didn’t you hear me?” she interrupted, her voice dripping with venom. “Man up, you coward. You had no problem screwing my son, but now you’re scared of him? You think he’s dangerous? I’m his mother. I am ten times worse.”

Ryan’s mouth went dry. Her words cut through him like ice. He tried to stammer a reply, but she steamrolled over him.

“You listen to me carefully,” she continued, her voice a low, menacing growl. “You will do exactly what I tell you. You will keep your mouth shut. You will play your part. And you will wait until I call you with the next step. Do you understand?”

“Yes… I… I understand,” Ryan managed to choke out. His voice was barely a whisper.

“Good,” she snapped. “And Ryan? Don’t make me regret bringing you into this. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Ryan staring at his phone, the faint hum of the road beneath his tires the only sound in the car. His heart pounded in his chest as he replayed her words over and over.

The drive home felt endless. Every shadow along the road seemed to loom larger, every noise sharper. Ryan’s mind raced. What had started as a manipulative game to get closer to Michael had spiraled into something far more dangerous. He had thought Mrs. Evans was just a bitter woman, a meddling mother. Now he realized she was something far worse—a woman willing to destroy anyone in her path, even her own son.

Ryan clenched the wheel tighter, his knuckles white. He wanted out, but there was no way out. Not now. Not with Mrs. Evans holding all the cards.

The weight of the situation bore down on him. What had he gotten himself into?

After Ryan left, Michael sat in his car, staring out at the dense woods surrounding the cottage. His thoughts spiraled back to New York. Janelle. He had to figure out how to get rid of her, but the more pressing matter was the setup. Who could have orchestrated it? Ryan wasn’t capable of such a calculated move—it had to be someone else.

He started the car, intending to head home, but somehow, without even realizing it, he found himself driving toward his old neighborhood. Toward his parents’ home.

Why here? He hadn’t spoken to his parents in years, and he had no desire to start now. His life was already complicated enough. Between the strain of keeping up appearances with Sarah and juggling his secret life, he didn’t need his mother’s interference. But his subconscious had brought him here. Why?

Could his mom be behind this? No. She despised Sarah, but why would she try to destroy his life? And besides, she didn’t know he was gay—no one did. Still… the idea lingered. His mother had always been manipulative, always finding ways to twist situations to her favor. Could she really have had a hand in this?

Maybe it was time to turn the tables on her, to catch her off guard. What did he have to lose? At the very least, he could eliminate her as a possibility.

He pulled up to his old home and parked the car. It still looked the same, almost as if frozen in time. Michael gripped the steering wheel, debating whether this was a good idea. What if she tore into him like she used to? No. He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d stood up to her before, and he could do it again. She wouldn’t manipulate him. Not this time.

Michael stepped out of the car and walked up to the door. His heart pounded as he rang the bell. The seconds dragged, each one heavier than the last. Finally, the door opened.

“Michael?” His mother stood there, her face a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Michael! Oh, my baby, Michael!” Tears welled in her eyes as she reached out and hugged him tightly. “Michael…” she repeated, her voice trembling with emotion.

Michael stiffened at first, unsure if this was genuine or another one of her ploys. But after a moment, he relaxed slightly. Maybe it was real. Maybe time had softened her.

“Come in, Michael. You don’t know how much your father and I have missed you.” Her voice was warm, but Michael couldn’t help but wonder if there was a catch.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The familiar smell of his mother’s cooking filled the air, and for a brief moment, nostalgia crept in. He remembered how comforting that smell used to be, how it once symbolized home. But now, it felt foreign.

“Michael, come sit down. I just made some soup. Can you stay? For a while?”

Michael hesitated but nodded. As he walked toward the kitchen, his mother called out to his father.

“Michael? Is that you?” His father entered the room, his face lighting up with joy. Without hesitation, he pulled Michael into a tight hug.

“Hi, Dad,” Michael said awkwardly. “How are you?”

As he sat down at the kitchen table, he realized just how strange this moment was. These were his parents, yet they felt like strangers. His father’s warmth seemed genuine, but his mother’s intentions were harder to read. She watched him closely, her eyes glinting with a mix of relief and something else—something Michael couldn’t quite place.

The ticking of the clock echoed in the quiet house. For now, Michael let the moment settle, but questions burned at the back of his mind. Had he made a mistake coming here? Or would this visit reveal the answers he so desperately needed?

For the next hour, Michael sat with his parents, carefully observing his mother. He knew his father couldn’t possibly be involved in anything nefarious. His dad had always been a kind but passive figure, powerless against his mother’s sharp and often domineering ways.

His father shared updates about his life—he had retired but was working part-time to stay busy. They had recently taken a vacation, but his mother had fallen ill, cutting the trip short.

Michael told them about his own life, how he was now a senior executive, and about Sarah and their two children. His father beamed with pride, but his mother stayed unusually quiet, her eyes fixed on him in a way that made him uneasy.

Suddenly, his mother got up and disappeared into the living room. She returned moments later holding two small packages.

“Michael, these are for your children,” she said, placing them on the table.

Michael’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the toys—a dinosaur and a doll. His chest tightened. How could she know? These were the exact toys Sarah had told the kids Santa would bring them, just a few weeks ago.

“How did you know?” Michael asked cautiously, his voice laced with suspicion.

His mother hesitated, her fingers brushing the edges of the packages. Then, with a deep breath, she began to explain.

“I saw Sarah a few weeks ago,” she said softly. “I was out shopping, and I saw her at the department store with two little ones. Oh, Michael, they’re adorable. They look just like you and Sarah.”

Michael’s face stiffened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I wanted to speak to them,” she continued. “But I wasn’t sure if Sarah would let me. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to get along with. But I couldn’t stop myself—I just had to. So, I went up to her. At first, she didn’t recognize me, but slowly it clicked. I thought she’d turn and leave, but she didn’t.”

Michael’s chest tightened. His mother’s voice trembled, but it didn’t feel rehearsed.

“She introduced me to your children,” she said, her eyes misting over. “Oh, Michael, I’ve missed so much. We spent an hour talking. She told me about your life, your work, the twins. I saw the toys they wanted, but Sarah said she would buy them for Christmas from Santa if they behaved. I couldn’t resist. After she left, I bought them myself. I was hoping she’d call me back, but she never did. I don’t blame her. I didn’t welcome her into the family. Maybe she doesn’t want me involved now.”

Michael sat frozen, trying to gauge her sincerity. His mother seemed remorseful, but this was the woman who had controlled so much of his life. Was she playing another game, or had she truly changed?

“I was hoping Sarah would have called back. I didn’t want to upset her further by forcing my way back into your life. I’ve lost so many years with you, Michael. I want to make amends, with you, with her, with the children. I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking anyway.”

She pushed the toys toward him. “Will you give these to the kids? Tell them they’re from Santa. It would mean the world to me—and to your father.”

Michael’s gaze lingered on her. She seemed genuine. But why hadn’t Sarah mentioned this? They never kept secrets from each other. What else might she be keeping from him?

“I’ll think about it,” Michael said, his voice cool.

He finished his meal, hugged his father, and left. As he got into his car, he placed the toys on the backseat, his mind whirling. His mother had extended an olive branch, but was it sincere? And why would Sarah keep this from him? The questions nagged at him as he drove off, the ticking clock of his secrets growing louder with each passing moment.

As soon as she could, Michael's mom dialed Ryan's number.

“Ryan, someone came to visit me just now. You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?” Mrs. Evans’ voice was cold and calculated.

Ryan froze, glancing nervously at Nathan, who was standing just a few feet away. “Can I call you back? I’m with Nathan,” he whispered into the phone.

“No,” she snapped. Her tone brooked no argument. “I need answers, now.”

Ryan’s heart raced. He turned to Nathan. “Hey, Nate, I gotta take this. It’s my mom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay,” Nathan replied, raising an eyebrow as Ryan stepped away.

Once Ryan was out of earshot, he spoke quickly. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Michael, you idiot! He was here!” Her words were sharp, dripping with accusation. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming? Or do you want me to expose you?”

“What? No! I didn’t know he was going to see you,” Ryan said, his voice trembling. “He never said anything to me. I swear, he just sent me away without a word. I didn’t know. I promise you!”

“Are you lying to me?” Her voice was ice.

“No! I swear I’m not lying!” Ryan pleaded, panic tightening his chest. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Good. Because if you are, this won’t end well for you, Ryan.”

Ryan could feel the weight of her words like a noose tightening around his neck. He was suffocating under the pressure. What had he gotten himself into?

“I believe you—for now,” she said after a long pause. “And I can tell you this much—he doesn’t suspect anything. Not me…” She paused again, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “And not you. If anything, I think I may have just found my way back into his life.”

Ryan’s stomach churned at the realization. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

Mrs. Evans let out a sharp laugh. “Off the hook? Are you kidding? No. You’re not going anywhere. You just keep feeding me information.”

Ryan’s voice faltered. “Okay…” he muttered.

“I can’t hear you.”

“I said, okay,” Ryan repeated, louder this time, his voice shaky. “I’ll keep giving you information.”

“Good. You do that,” she said coldly before hanging up without another word. She turned to her husband and simply said “He’ll play along”.

Ryan stood frozen, the phone still in his hand, his mind spiraling. He felt trapped, suffocated. The game he’d thought would be exciting and harmless had spiraled into something darker, more dangerous. He wasn’t cut out for this. He wasn’t a manipulator or a puppet master—he was a pawn in a game he didn’t understand, and the weight of it was crushing him.

He wandered aimlessly, his mind too clouded to think straight. Hours passed before Nathan finally called him.

“Ryan, what the hell? Where did you go?” Nathan’s voice was a mix of concern and frustration. “You were talking to your mom, and then you’re just gone? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, man,” Ryan replied weakly. “I just… got sidetracked. Sorry, Nate.”

Nathan sighed. “Okay, so are you coming back? Or should I come to your place?”

Ryan hesitated. “No… I need some time alone. There’s a lot of stuff going on,” he said quietly, before abruptly hanging up.

“Ryan? Ryan!” Nathan called into the now disconnected line. “What the hell is going on with him?”

Ryan stood alone, the weight of everything pressing down on him. I’m in way over my head, he thought, the dread sinking deeper into his chest.

Every time the phone rang, Ryan’s chest tightened. Was it Michael's mom? Was it Nate? Or worse… Michael himself? Each call, each buzz of a text message, felt like the ticking of a bomb. He didn’t dare pick up, not even to see who was calling. Even making the effort to glance at the screen was too daunting.

For days, he avoided his phone altogether. It sat on his nightstand, an ominous presence that he couldn’t bring himself to silence. Each beep sent him to the edge of panic. His heart would race, his breathing would quicken, and he’d bury his face in his hands. Why is this happening? Why did I get involved? What was I thinking? His thoughts ran in endless circles, chasing answers that never came. I love Nathan. Why did I betray him?

"I can’t live like this," Ryan whispered to himself, rocking slightly on the edge of his bed. His mind was spiraling, fragmented pieces of logic colliding with waves of irrational fear. I have to get out of this. I have to fix this. But how? How do I even begin?

For days, Ryan confined himself to his room, emerging only when absolutely necessary before retreating again and locking the door behind him. Each time, he’d pace the small space, his mind racing, trying to piece together a plan—or at least make sense of everything. The walls felt like they were closing in, but he couldn’t face the outside world, not yet. He had to think. He had to figure out how to untangle himself from the mess he’d created.

The sound of the doorbell jarred him. He froze, his breath caught in his throat. He heard his mom answer it downstairs. It’s probably just a package. Nothing to worry about. But then there were footsteps. Heavy ones. Coming up the stairs. His stomach dropped.

There was a knock on his bedroom door.

“Ryan? It’s me, Nate. Open up.”

Ryan’s throat constricted. He stared at the door like it was a trap. What should I do? What does he want? He knows something. Why else would he come here? No. He doesn’t know anything. Calm down.

“Ryan. Come on… I know you’re home. Your mom told me. Open up, man. It’s me, Nate.”

Ryan’s voice cracked as he called back through the door. “Nate… I don’t… I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you later.”

A pause. Then Nate’s voice, firmer. “No, Ryan. You won’t. You’ve been ignoring my calls and my texts. Listen, if you want to break up, fine. But tell me to my face.”

Break up? The thought hit Ryan like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t lose Nate. He didn’t deserve him, but he couldn’t lose him. Nate was the only good thing left in his life, the only tether keeping him from completely falling apart.

Slowly, reluctantly, Ryan got up and unlocked the door. Nate was standing there, concern etched across his face.

“Ryan—what the hell is going on? You look like crap. What’s this about?” Nate stepped inside, his voice softening as he took in Ryan’s disheveled state.

Ryan’s thoughts collided in a storm of panic, guilt, and desperation. Do I tell him? No, I can’t. If I do, she’ll destroy me. But if I don’t, he’ll leave. I can’t lose him. But what if he hates me? What if he never forgives me?

Before he could overthink it further, he pulled Nate into a hug and broke down, sobbing into his shoulder.

“Ryan…” Nate whispered, wrapping his arms around him protectively. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll deal with it together. Just trust me. I’ll always be here for you.”

The sincerity in Nate’s voice broke something inside Ryan. The guilt flooded in like a tidal wave. Here was the man he truly loved—patient, loyal, and kind—and Ryan had betrayed him in every possible way. How could he ever explain this? How could he face the man he loved and admit what he had done?

As Nate held him, Ryan’s mind continued to spiral. Tell him. No, don’t. It’ll ruin everything. But it already is ruined. You’re ruining it every second you don’t tell him. But she’ll destroy you. Michael will destroy you. You’ll lose everything. But isn’t that better than living like this? No, it isn’t. Yes, it is.

Nate pulled back slightly, tilting Ryan’s chin up so their eyes met. “Ryan, whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone. Just talk to me. I love you and we will solve whatever it is you are dealing with.”