Chapter 7

DEVINS POV.

Work felt pointless today. Every click of the clock on the wall just reminded me of how deep I was stuck in this mess I called a life. My father’s words were still running wild in my head, slicing through my thoughts over and over again. There was no way out of this marriage. No amount of guilt, anger, or begging was going to change that. The stamp was final, the deal sealed, and my father had made sure I understood exactly what would happen if I ever tried to walk away.

I sat behind my desk staring at my laptop screen, the same email sitting open for the past thirty minutes. I felt like shit,My hands hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn’t type a single word. I kept seeing Stella’s face from this morning, the hurt, the disbelief, the silent tears. I’d ignored her completely, like she didn’t even exist. Part of me hated that I cared, but I did. I just didn’t know what to do with it anymore.

The door opened behind me, the handle clicking before I heard Timone’s voice.

 “You look like shit,” he said, laughing as he walked in without knocking. Timone and I were best friends, often I confided in him, but was the point if I did this time? Wouldn't that make me a goddamn liar? Telling my false side of the story? 

“Good to see you too,” I muttered beneath my breath hating that it had already come to this, He dropped a cup of coffee on my desk, the paper rim already soaked through. 

“You need this. You’ve been acting like someone shoved a stick up your ass all day. What’s going on?” he asked, his voice was laced with evident worry in them, but it wasn't like I had much of a say in the matter,I'd tried to look happy, fucking hell! Was this how the rest of my long life would be? Each day filled with horror and bitterness while I remained married to a woman my dick wouldn't even get up for…but her brother ... .yes. I'll do it over and over. Shit!

“Nothing you’d want to hear.” I leaned back locking my eyes on him , a slow smile etched on my lips as I tried shrugging off the image concocted in my head, I couldn't do that. Couldn't catch a goddamn boner with my best friend next to me and my head thinking of sticking my dick straight into my wife's brother's ass.

“Oh, come on,” he said, sliding into the chair across from me.

 “You’ve been married, what, two days? Shouldn’t you be on a beach somewhere, not rotting in this damn office?” I dropped my gaze away from him, well leave it to Timone to always stick his bloody nose everywhere it didn't belong.

“That’s not happening.” I deadpanmed, running my hands into my hair and through my face my fucking friend would take the hint and fucking drop it already.

“Why not?” he asked almost immediately, like he really would, I knew already diverting would make no sense. It would not stop him from making his poor ass silly choices.

“Because my father says so.” I responded honestly, what more could be said or done. I couldn't lie to him all along, things were becoming pretty shitty anyways. Timone frowned,

 “And you listened to him?” he asked like it was the most stupid thing I'd ever done and the most pathetic thing he had ever heard all his life!

“Do I have a choice?” He sat back, studying me for a long second but when he realised I wasn't smiling or laughing he pretty much understood that this was not a joke.

“You know, I always thought you were the one guy who wouldn’t turn into him. Guess I was wrong.” timone spoke in a tone that as a matter of fact sounded deliberate in an attempt to gut me and it did, he was right, if I was desperate enough to stay with Stella even when I was tired. If I was so fuckinh desperate enough to keep my shares that I'll stay closeted and marry some fancy girl, how was I different from my father 

“Timone,” I said, warning in my tone. But he didn't look like he was intending to stop there 

“No, really, You’ve been busting your ass for that company since college. You made him millions. And now he’s dictating your marriage like you’re some corporate puppet. Are you ever gonna stop letting him pull your strings?” I met his eyes, my jaw tightening, they all felt it was just so easy being born and bred rich, oh I'll give them anything to make them fill my shoes for even a single day and take the heat like I always do 

“You don’t understand.” I sighed, he could advice all he wants, but he the one with a condescending homophobic as fuck father.

“Then help me,” Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re living his life, not yours.” I didn’t answer, my lips remained sealed, there wasn’t a point. Timone wouldn’t get it, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to explain.

“Alright, fine. Forget it. We’re heading to the bar tonight, everyone’s coming. You should too.” I gave him a half-smirk that didn’t reach my eyes knowing damn well I was about to set him off, he hated hearing words like this.

 “Can’t.” I answered hastily.

“Can’t or won’t?” he questioned corking up his left brow trying to act calm and restrained even when I could see his fists clenched already 

“Both,I'm married now.” I spoke lightly, waving around my finger showing the expensive duck rings my father had made sure I'd gotten. Wait till you see the heavy studded rock on stellacs.

He blinked, then let out a short, humorless laugh. He was at the thin end of his rope and I wasn't making things any easier for him.

 “So? Married people still drink, man. You think your ring’s gonna explode if you have a beer?”

“You don’t get it. My father finds out I’m out drinking, he’ll tear me apart. He’s waiting for a reason to cut me off, Timone. A small mistake, that’s all it takes. I can’t risk it right now.”

Timone leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “You hear yourself, right? That’s not normal, Dev. That’s control. You’re too scared to have a drink because Daddy might ground you?” I clenched my jaw now he was being nothing but an asshole, I was not interested in putting up with his shitty attitude anymore.

“Drop it.” He stared at me for a moment, then got up.

 “You used to have a spine,” he said quietly. “Guess you left it somewhere along the way.” He walked out, the door slamming harder than he probably meant. The silence that followed felt heavier than before. I sat there for a while, just staring at the coffee he left behind, the brown liquid seeping out from the bottom of the cup and spreading across a few files.

My stomach twisted. I didn’t know if it was stress or something else. The memory of that night before the wedding flashed through my head again—the mistake I’d been trying to bury since it happened. The one that could ruin everything if it came out.

I pushed the chair back, stood, and grabbed my keys. I needed to see a doctor. Not in the city, not anywhere near where people knew my name. I needed to go far enough that nobody would connect me to anything.

The drive out of town was long. The farther I went, the smaller the buildings got. Streetlights turned into long stretches of dark road. It was quiet enough that I could hear my own heartbeat, loud and uneven. I didn’t even know where I was going, I just kept driving until I reached a little town I’d never been to.

There was a small clinic near the gas station, a faded sign out front that read Miller Medical Center. Looked decent enough, quiet, far from curious eyes.

I parked and went inside. The place was cold and smelled like disinfectant. A young nurse sat behind the counter, typing on an old computer. She looked up when she noticed me.

“Good afternoon,” she said politely. I tensed up for a bit waiting to see a change in expression, waiting for her to scream out my name, after all I was always on the face of every news held, my company ranked in the top three in the country, my looks made me always on the column line of every gossip forum, every bachelor, most wealth and mist . But if the nurse knew who I really was she gave nothing away and it had me relaxing a bit.

“Hi. I, uh… need to see a doctor.” I stuttered,sounding like an extreme fool. Fuck, I always stoof before foreigners, before and millioms of eyes and here was I was like a damn fool before a nurse.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked casually typing something into the keyboard before here still not acting weird or suspicious or cranky 

“No.” I responded honestly, totally relieved that I wasn't getting any judgy looks or snorts…perhaos the lady believed I was here for some secret illness like cancer and not std. Fuciing Christ!. 

“Alright, you can wait. There’s someone in the consulting room right now.”

I nodded and sat in one of the plastic chairs lined against the wall. The room was silent except for the hum of the air conditioner and the soft tapping of the nurse’s keyboard. I leaned back, closed my eyes for a second, and tried not to think about anything.

Didn’t work. Every thought I’d been avoiding hit me again—Stella, my father, the company, the fucking mess I’d made. My chest felt tight. I rubbed the back of my neck, tried to breathe through it. I was losing grip, slowly.

The sound of footsteps pulled me out of it. The door to the consulting room opened. I didn’t look up right away, but then I heard the voice.

“Thanks, Doc,” the guy said, calm, easy, like he didn’t have a care in the world. My head snapped up when I realised it was that irritating agitating voice 

No fucking way.

Adrien Of all the people in the world, it had to be him. He walked out of the consulting room, his hand in his pocket, the same smug, unreadable expression on his face. He looked exactly like I remembered, too confident, too collected, like the world bent a little for him and him alone. His eyes met mine, and for a second, his lips twitched into that smirk I always hated. I froze, blood rushing in my ears.

What the hell was he doing here?.