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Oliver stared at him a while, then deflated. “I think I get that. I just like you so much, and if our lives were different…” He trailed off, and Victor was grateful he didn’t go on. “Will you hold me for a bit?”
That was yet one more request Victor couldn’t turn down.
* * *
The next morning, Victor woke early for his morning exercises, which Oliver had slept through the past two nights. His body had stopped holding so much tension from his stress now that he didn’t feel on the edge of panic every time Oliver stepped into his line of sight, and he was sleeping easier.
But, as he lay there on the floor watching the silhouette of Oliver’s face light up with the morning sun, he realized that their expiration date was now even closer. In just a handful of days—in hours he could number without sounding ridiculous—it would be over.
He’d be home, back to his empty life, and Oliver would be nothing more than a memory.
His chest hurt.
Crawling onto his hands and knees, he shuffled over to the edge of the bed and propped his chin against the mattress. Oliver’s lashes were fanned out—dark to match the very hint of roots that were growing beneath Oliver’s soft platinum strands.
He had been striking since the moment Victor laid eyes on him, but Victor’s obsession was so much deeper than how gorgeous his angel was. It was all the small things about Oliver that had him captivated. Like how he liked his coffee with sugar and a pinch of salt. Or how he stirred everything counterclockwise. How he hated anything sticky on his fingers and how he picked at the sides of his fingernails when he was deep in thought.
It was how Oliver was always composing lines of his thesis in his head, and sometimes he’d mutter them aloud. He’d light up when Victor would ask him questions about history, and he could talk for hours if he went unchecked.
Victor now knew what Oliver looked like when he was lost in his research, sitting on the sofa under a stream of afternoon sunlight, scrolling on his laptop with four books open around him and three notepads covered in scribbled sentences.
Victor wanted to kiss him awake now—to disturb Oliver’s precious sleep because he couldn’t seem to help himself, but his phone began to buzz on the nightstand. He turned, pulling it out to stare at the screen, and his heart gave an ugly thud somewhere near the base of his throat.
It was Emil.
He hit Ignore, then clambered to his feet and began the careful trek out of the bedroom and down the short hallway. When he was halfway to the terrace door, he called Emil back and pressed the phone between his shoulders and ear so he could step outside without falling.
“I thought you were dodging my calls,” Emil said by way of answer.
“I thought about it. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
Emil let out a sigh as Victor’s feet hit the deck. They were still dragging, making his steps harder, but he found his way to a chair and collapsed so he could ride out a few spasms without risking a fall.
“You’re eventually going to have to tell me where you are and if you’re coming back,” Emil said. “Charlie’s freaking out that—”
“I don’t give a single, solitary fuck how Charlie’s feeling,” Victor said. He felt more vicious than he ever had in his life, and it felt a little wrong, in a strange way.
As though his anger toward Charlie didn’t matter anymore because all his friend had really done was show his true colors. And to help Alice show hers.
“I’m not on his side, you know,” Emil said quietly.
“And yet, you’re passing along messages to me.”
There was another pointed silence, and then Emil said, “One of us had to show up at work and manage the fucking internal crisis. You’re allowed to be mad, but Charlie’s on sabbatical, and you’re MIA. Everyone’s freaking the fuck out, and several departments are spreading rumors that there’s going to be mass layoffs.”
Victor sighed, rubbing his eyes as he sat back in the chair. “This has nothing to do with anyone else’s job. Even if I decide to sell my shares—”
“Victor, please don’t do that.”
“—everyone will be fine.”
“And that’s exactly why I’m worried,” Emil told him. “Normal people take their friends and go out to strip clubs. Hire a fucking hooker to suck their dick until it doesn’t hurt as much. They don’t torch their life and sell their company.”
Victor had never been more grateful in that moment for phones and the fact that his friend couldn’t see his flinch. “What do you want me to say, Emil? You and I both know I can’t work with him again, but I certainly can’t ask him to leave. Alice is already trying to sue me for breach of promise after calling off the engagement. I have no doubt Charlie would try to sue me for blackmail if I even hinted that I wanted him gone.”
“It’s not like anyone will take his side,” Emil stressed. “People are pissed at him and worried about you.”
“I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m not falling apart,” Victor said, his voice just kind of quiet now. “I’m not even sad. I was just…embarrassed and a little disappointed that everyone else was right.”
