All Chapters of Appealing To His Gaze : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

AIDEN.I felt good. Relaxed in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. My back was against the couch, my legs spread just enough for Devin to settle between them. His hands were on my thighs, warm and steady, and his head was lowering. I had one hand in his hair, holding him close, guiding him slowly because I wanted to enjoy the moment without thinking about anything else. My breathing kept getting heavier, and my jaw was tight because the tension felt too good to control.I let out a rough sound low in my throat, and Devin looked up at me before continuing. My fingers convulsed in his hair without meaning to, and he took it like he always did, quiet and focused. My chest rose and fell hard as I let my head fall back for a second, just to breathe because it felt too good to stay still.Then the doorbell rang. The sound struck the room so suddenly that Devin was stock-still in a matter of a second. His mouth stopped, his hands stilled, and the sudden absence of warmth chafed me. I blew ou

DEVIN'S POVThe second Stella's expression changed, I knew. She snatched her phone so fast she almost dropped it, and the way her eyes shot over the screen told me everything. I didn't need to ask, didn't need to wonder. I just watched her panic. And instead of feeling punched in the chest or sick or dizzy like I used to, all I felt was something loosening deep inside me. Something quiet. Something real.My shoulders actually dropped. It felt weird, because I didn't remember the last time my body wasn't tense around her. I even let out this breath I didn't know I'd been holding for years. And the smile came before I could hide it. A real smile. Not the polite one I force when she drags me to her parents' dinners. Not the tired one I put on when she starts crying to avoid accountability. This was real, and I let it sit there.She looked terrified of the smile."D-Devin," she whispered, voice cracking, "I can explain. Please. Just let me talk. It's not-it wasn't-just listen to me for tw

DEVINS P.O.VI woke up before my eyes opened.There was a tightness in my chest, like the kind that didn't come from a bad dream but from something real and waiting. My body felt coiled, restless, the way it feels when it's been bracing itself all night for impact. When the phone on the nightstand started vibrating again, I didn't jump. I already knew it was there. I already knew it wasn't going to stop.I cracked my eyes open and stared at the ceiling for a second, breathing slow, trying to convince myself I was still half-asleep. The early morning light barely filtered through the curtains, soft and pale; the world outside was still quiet. Inside my chest, though, everything was loud.I reached for the phone.The screen flickered on, and my stomach dropped so hard it felt like I might actually be sick.My father had called a lot.Not one missed call. Not two. A long list, stacked on top of each other, like he'd been calling all night and only stopped when exhaustion or rage finally wo

DEVINS POV.“I love Aiden,” I say, and I don’t pause, don’t soften it, don’t give her time to brace because I’ve been bracing for years and I’m done carrying that weight alone.“I don’t love you, Stella. I never did. I tried to convince myself I could, that it would come with time, that marriage would fix something that was already broken in me, but it didn’t. It just made the lie heavier. If you need the truth stripped bare, then here it is: I've been gay my entire life. This didn’t start with him. It didn’t start last year or last month or whenever the rumors decided to crawl out of the gutter. I was born this way, and I buried it because it was easier to be the son, the husband, the partner everyone expected than to be honest.”She doesn't move at first. Just stares. Like she’s watching something collapse in slow motion and can’t look away. Her lips part, then press together again, like she’s tasting every word, weighing how much damage they’ve already done. I can see the anger bu

AIDENI haven’t stopped moving since I got here. That’s the first thing that hits me every time I become aware of myself again. Not where I am. Not what I’ve done. Just the fact that my body refuses to settle, like if I stop, something worse will catch up to me. The room feels wrong in a Foreign hotel. Neutral colors meant to offend no one, comfort everyone, and somehow they do the opposite.Thick curtains pulled shut even though it’s still daytime. My suitcase is open on the bed, clothes half unpacked, folded and unfolded again without purpose, like my hands needed something to do so they wouldn’t reach for my phone.I pace from the window to the desk to the bed and back. Over and over. The same steps, the same path, like if I repeat it enough times it will start to make sense. My fingers twitch. My jaw aches from being clenched too long. My chest feels tight, heavy, like something is pressing inward, something that won’t let me take a full breath. I keep thinking if I inhale deeply