Haze

LEONARD:

Bernard slipped away to his bedroom without us noticing. By the time Jimmy and I finished outlining how the investigation would begin, Bernard was already gone.

It was better that way. I still hadn’t decided how to process everything about him and Eric, and I knew he was struggling too. It was best that we take our time in approaching that chapter.

Jimmy, on the other hand, provided a perfect lead. He said Erica had met a woman during their trip. Something about the woman seemed off—he couldn’t place it, but with the chaos unravelling now, he believed she was the right place to start.

“You should go back to Panila,” I said.

The company trip had covered several cities in the country, Panila included. That was where Erica met the woman—and also where I’d taken Eric from. Panila was the hole worth digging.

Jimmy drove me home, then went off to prepare for what would be a long investigation.

The reporters had finally cleared from my gates. But online clips showed that they were still camped outside Eric’s apartment, with the nerd and Erica trapped inside.

My mother had called countless times. I stopped answering after I explained thrice that it was just a rumour, and she refused to let it go.

My phone buzzed constantly, not just from her but from unknown numbers and endless messages. I was the one in a mess, yet everyone acted like they were in one because of me.

The next day, I woke up with renewed anger. Every corner of the house reminded me of Eric, every step made me seethe. When I saw the cleaner sweeping the food scraps, my temper lashed out at her bin, and I kicked it to the floor.

The mood didn’t lift. Two days indoors, trapped in wild thoughts. Jimmy hadn’t called with updates. My mother hadn’t stopped calling. The gay label hadn’t quieted. And worst of all, I hadn’t stopped thinking of Eric.

On the third day, I gave in and dressed for work. My business life was crumbling too. I had lost all interest in the company’s accounts and management. Even in the elevator to my office, I knew I wouldn’t touch a single file. I just needed an escape—somewhere far from Eric’s presence, yet somewhere not too far from Bernard. We haven’t seen or spoken for days, but soon…one of us will call to meet. If he did, I wouldn’t want to be out of reach.

“Mr. Hays,” my secretary called from the door. “There is a lunch delivery for you.”

I looked up, just as baffled as she was. I never ordered lunch. I either went out to restaurants or ate in the cafeteria.

My mum. That woman must think I’m starving, too.

“Where is it?”

“I’ll receive it.”

I called her as Tracey stepped out. “You don’t have to do this, Mum. I’m not a toddler.”

“You are my toddler. I’m worried about you, Leonard. I’ll keep calling until you answer.”

“I’ve answered. I’m fine. Stop calling…and don’t send food again.”

“What food?”

Tracey returned with a steel food flask. Still holding my mother on the line, I opened it and found a note inside the lid:

~Please eat me. My chef prepared me with all his heart~

“What food, Leo?” My mother’s voice echoed.

“It’s nothing. I’ll visit soon.”

I hung up.

“Do you know where it came from?” Tracey asked.

“No.”

I knew. The moment I read that note, even without recognising the handwriting, I knew it was Eric.

“I’m sorry,” she panicked, quickly lifting the flask off my desk. “I’ll be more careful about what I bring in.”

She was at the door when I called after her. “Where are you taking it?”

“The bin. I’ll make sure you never see it.”

I nodded. But as she stepped out, I spoke again.

“Which bin?”

Seriously? Which bin?

“Sir?”

“You don’t have to do that,” I muttered—half hoping she hadn’t heard, half hoping she had.

“Mr. Hays?”

“Keep it on the table.”

“It can be poisoned. I’ll bring you something from the cafeteria.”

“Leave it there and go, Tracey.”

She hesitated but obeyed, heels clicking out of the door.

I suddenly buried myself in paperwork…a workload I hadn’t touched in weeks, one I had ignored since my arrival hours ago. Still, the flask stayed in my line of sight, mocking me. No matter how I turned, it was there.

Shit.

I got up and sat before it, convincing myself I was only curious…not hungry.

I read the note again. ‘He made it with all his heart?’ Was that supposed to make me eat it? No. I wouldn’t touch a grain.

But when I opened it, the aroma punched me.

He was tempting me. He hadn’t only deceived me…he was also tempting me.

I’d show him I couldn’t be tempted. I did what I wanted, not what he made me want. If I ate this, it wasn’t because it smelled good. It was because I chose to.

I ate every grain. Even drank the water…until my eyes caught the carved message beneath the flask:

~I’m sorry, Leo. Return the flask if you have forgiven me. Don’t, if you ate the food~

“Sir?” Tracey’s knock came soft. “The deliveryman…”

Her words froze as she took in my undone tie, unbuckled belt, and my eyes fixed on the empty flask.

“You ate the food…”

I ate it. And now I didn’t understand what haze I was in. Return the flask and scream forgiveness? Or keep it and scream that his food melted both my hunger and my anger?

Shit.

“The deliveryman’s waiting to collect the flask,” she said. “The sender paid him to wait.”

“And you are just telling me?”

Deep shit.

Hold on. Why was I trembling? Shouldn’t Eric be the one trembling? When had the power shifted?

“Sir?”

The idea came.

“Trash the flask,” I said. “Do it where the deliveryman sees.”

What the hell was Eric trying to pull? Now his forgiveness will never come.

The next day, I left the house eager for work. I am not sure why. Big fat lie—I knew why. Another lunch package awaits me.

This time, I’d play his game fully. Eat, enjoy, and still not forgive him.

“Sir?” Tracey called when the second flask arrived.

“On the table,” I said, trying so hard to look busy with the paperwork I wasn’t reading.

The second her heels vanished, I was already seated before the flask.

Another note:

~Please eat me today. Don’t hate me. Hate the chef~

“How could I hate you, my delicious meal?” I whispered, inhaling its aroma. “Never.”

I emptied the flask again. Another carved message…as expected.

~Don’t hate me either, Leo. Trash the food, trash the flask, but don’t trash me. I’m sorry. I miss you~

No haze? He learned so quickly.

I downed the water, smiling, until I saw the carved words beneath the bottle:

~Return the flask if you’ve trashed me. Or don’t, if you haven’t~

Shit.

“Arrgh!” I growled, drawing stares from staff peeking through the blinds.

Since the gay rumours and Erica’s absence, all eyes had been on me. But once the food deliveries began, whispers joined their stares. Nora claimed she had known I was gay the moment she laid eyes on me…because I didn’t ‘double blink’ at her the way all men supposedly do. Fact? Nora is the ugliest among my staff. And now, with the lunch packages in play, she insists only gay men enjoy mysterious meals.

“You good, sir?” Tracey asked.

Good? I was screwed.

Return the flask meant I ate. Not returning meant I forgave him. Forgive him? Never.

“Is the deliveryman waiting?”

“He is.”

Eric needed to top this nonsense, or I’d never consider pardoning him.

“Should I trash the flask again?”

I hated this. Truly.

“Do as you wish,“ I said. “But don’t hand it to him.”

She nodded and turned, but I stopped her.

I scribbled a note, folded it, and handed it to her. “Give him this. For his sender.”

Unfortunate. My free lunch has ended.

I almost didn’t come to work the next day. The hunger hit earlier and harder than expected, knowing the flask wouldn’t come made the morning heavier. But Bernard’s message pulled me out. He demanded we meet for dinner—not to dine, but to talk about Eric.

The tension in that text alone was enough to drive me to work, just to waste the hours. Strange how meeting Bernard has become so hard.

“Sir,” Tracey knocked gently. “You’ve a visitor.”

“Not today. Reschedule.”

“It’s Erica’s double, sir.”