Chapter Three

Chapter Three: The Fall

Three weeks.

That was how long it had been since Nate walked out of the apartment he had once called home.

Three weeks since he'd found Eric with another man.

Three weeks since his future had collapsed in the space of a single heartbeat.

At first, everyone had expected him to grieve.

Instead, he unraveled.

He stopped answering calls.

Stopped going to the gym.

Stopped cooking real meals.

Barely even went to school.

He barely slept, and when he did, he woke with Eric's face burned into his mind.

The hospital became the only place he pretended everything was normal. He showed up on time, smiled through ward rounds, and buried himself in patient casefiles. But the moment the workday ended, the mask came off.

Every evening ended the same way.

A bar.

A bottle.

A stranger's conversation he wouldn't remember by morning.

Tonight was no different.

The music inside The Iron Lantern was loud enough to rattle the glasses behind the counter. Neon lights flashed across sweaty faces as people laughed, danced, and shouted over one another.

Nate sat alone at the end of the bar.

An empty whiskey glass rested in front of him.

"Another?" the bartender asked.

Nate slid the glass forward.

"Keep them coming."

"You've already had twelve."

"So?"

The bartender hesitated.

"I'm cutting you off."

Nate laughed.

"No, you're not."

"I am."

He reached for the glass.

Nate caught his wrist.

For just a second.

But it was enough.

"Don't."

The bartender pulled his hand back.

"You need to leave."

"I said pour the drink."

"I said you're done."

Something inside Nate snapped.

The stool scraped loudly across the floor as he stood.

"What, you think I can't pay?"

"It isn't about the money."

"Then what's it about?"

The bartender sighed.

"It's about the fact that you're one drink away from passing out."

People nearby had started watching.

Nate hated that.

He hated the pity in their eyes.

The whispers.

The judgment.

"You don't know anything about me."

"No," the bartender replied evenly.

"But I know pain when I see it."

The words hit too close to home.

Before Nate even realized what he was doing, he shoved the bartender backward.

The room fell silent.

The bartender stumbled into a shelf of bottles.

Glass shattered.

Then someone grabbed Nate's shoulder.

"Sir, that's enough."

Nate spun around and threw a punch.

It missed completely.

The security guard caught his arm and forced him backward.

Within seconds, another guard joined in.

"Let me go!"

"You need to calm down."

"I'm calm!"

"You just tried to punch someone."

"I said let go!"

The struggle knocked over two chairs before the guards finally pinned his arms behind his back.

The bartender rubbed his shoulder and sighed.

"Just get him out of here."

As the guards dragged Nate toward the exit, he continued shouting.

None of the words made much sense anymore.

The alcohol had blurred everything together.

Outside, the cool night air slapped him across the face.

One of the guards released him.

"Go home."

"Nate stumbled forward.

"I don't have one."

The guards exchanged a glance.

Then one of them walked back inside.

The other stayed close enough to make sure Nate didn't start another fight.

Five minutes later, someone hurried through the front door.

"Seriously?"

Micah.

He wore faded jeans, a black hoodie, and the expression of someone who was rapidly losing patience.

Nate squinted.

"How'd you get here?"

"The bartender called me."

"He had your number?"

"I gave it to him."

Nate frowned.

"You what? When?"

"Three nights ago."

"You've been spying on me?"

"I've been trying to keep you alive."

Nate scoffed.

"I don't need a babysitter."

"No." Micah stepped closer. "You need a friend."

For a brief second, Nate's expression softened.

Then it disappeared.

"I'm fine."

Micah looked at the broken skin across Nate's knuckles.

"The fight says otherwise."

"I didn't lose."

"You didn't win either."

Nate looked away.

Micah sighed.

"Come on."

"I'm staying."

"The bartender banned you."

"I'll go somewhere else."

"No."

Micah gently but firmly took hold of Nate's arm.

"You're coming home."

"I don't want to."

"I know."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

Nate tried pulling away.

Micah didn't let go.

"I hate you."

Micah chuckled.

"No, you don't."

"You don't know that."

"I've known you since we were kids."

He opened the passenger door of his car.

"Get in."

"No."

Micah waited.

Nate crossed his arms like a stubborn child.

"I'm not moving."

"Okay."

Micah pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling my mother."

Nate's eyes widened.

"You wouldn't."

"I absolutely would."

"You fight dirty."

"I learned from you."

After a long stare, Nate groaned dramatically before climbing into the passenger seat.

"There."

"You happy?"

"Ecstatic."

The drive was quiet.

Rain began tapping softly against the windshield.

Neither man spoke for several minutes.

Finally Nate broke the silence.

"He cheated on me."

Micah kept his eyes on the road.

"I know."

"I wasn't enough."

Micah's grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Don't do that."

"It's true."

"No, it's not."

Nate laughed bitterly.

"If I was enough, e would've stayed faithful."

Micah glanced at him.

"Someone else's betrayal isn't proof that you were lacking."

Nate swallowed hard.

"I gave him everything."

"I know."

"I loved him."

"I know."

"So why does it still feel like I'm the one who did something wrong?"

Micah didn't answer immediately.

Because there wasn't a simple answer.

Instead, he said quietly, "Sometimes people break things they don't deserve to have."

The car fell silent again.

By the time they reached Micah's apartment building, he was asleep.

Micah parked but didn't wake him right away.

Instead, he looked at his best friend.

The dark circles beneath Nate's eyes.

The healing cut on his cheek.

The exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

This wasn't heartbreak anymore.

This was self-destruction.

And if something didn't change soon... Micah wasn't sure there would be enough of Nate left to save.

Outside, the rain continued to fall, washing the streets clean.

Inside the car, Nate slept through it all, unaware that his life was drifting toward a collision he could never have imagined.