Elias sat motionless on the edge of the bed, staring at the wooden box in his hands. Damien was still in the bathroom, the sound of water running faintly in the background. Elias's thoughts spun in a thousand directions.
"An omega..." he muttered to himself. "Catrina was right. He had someone... That means I can bring up the conditions now—make everything clear."
He absentmindedly ran his fingers along the carvings on the wooden box, the grain smooth and warm beneath his touch. Then, he felt a small latch—barely noticeable. He clicked it.
The box sprang open with a soft snap, revealing a golden ring nestled inside like a secret. A single diamond shimmered in the middle, and its delicate filigree danced in the dim bedroom light. Elias gasped softly. It was beautiful. Painfully beautiful. The kind of ring that would make him say yes without a second thought.
His throat tightened.
Why would Alex give him this?
He immediately grabbed his phone and called Catrina.
She picked up after two rings. "DUDE. It's your wedding night! You're supposed to be having, you know—fun. Why are you calling me?"
"Shut up and listen," Elias snapped, his tone sharp but panicked. "When you talked to Alex earlier, what did he say?"
Catrina groaned. "Ugh, you're so dramatic. I asked him why he showed up when he wasn't even invited, and he said... he said he came to give you something before flying to France."
"France?" Elias asked, eyes narrowing. "What the hell is he going to do in France?"
"God knows. Open a bakery with his sadness? Who cares. What did he give you, though? I saw that weird little box—"
"Switch to video. I'll show you."
Catrina flipped her camera, and Elias angled his phone to show the ring and the wooden box.
She let out a dramatic gasp. "Oh. My. God."
"What?"
"Flip the box over."
Elias turned it over and read aloud the engraving:
"Custom Wedding Ring for Mr. Alex & Mr. Elias."
The date? Six months ago.
He blinked. "Oh. There's a date, too... huh."
Catrina just stared at him through the screen like he'd grown two heads. "Did your brain short-circuit or something?! That's the exact ring you described on that drunken video call last year—you told Alex you wanted a diamond in a gold band, in a wooden box like a secret treasure."
Elias blinked again. "Wait... that means—"
"Yes, dumbass. He was going to propose. And he's been planning it for six months."
The realization hit Elias like a truck. All the anger, the bitterness—now tangled with guilt, confusion... and something else he couldn't name. He clutched the box tighter, like he could still hold on to the moment he missed.
Then—
A deep, amused chuckle echoed from the bathroom door.
Elias froze.
He slowly turned—and nearly dropped the box.
Damien stood there, leaning against the doorframe. He was in nothing but a white robe, loosely tied at the waist. Damp strands of inky-black hair clung to his sharp cheekbones and jawline, glistening from the shower. Droplets of water traced down his collarbones, disappearing into the folds of the robe. He looked... ethereal. Dangerous. Like a god carved from moonlight and desire.
Elias's heart skipped a beat—whether from shock or attraction, he didn't know.
"W-When did you get out?" he asked, voice a pitch too high.
"About five minutes ago," Damien said, his voice low and calm, almost teasing.
"And... and you didn't say anything?"
Damien smiled. "Didn't want to interrupt. You seemed... invested in your little ring revelation."
Elias forced an awkward laugh, quickly snapping the ring box shut and slipping it under a pillow. He stood up a little too fast, brushing invisible dust off his pants.
"So... I guess you heard everything."
"Oh, I sure did," Damien replied, folding his arms, still leaning there like sin personified.
Elias cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how small the room felt. "Then I guess it's time... I tell you something."
Damien arched a brow. "I'm listening."
Before Elias could speak, his phone buzzed again. One new message.
From Alex.
"I didn't come just to say goodbye."
Elias stared at the screen, pulse pounding. Damien stepped closer.
"Everything okay?" he asked, voice softer now.
Elias looked up, caught between past and present.
"I... I don't know."
The silence between them stretched out as Elias stood frozen by the bed, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape. Damien had gone back to drying his hair, but his eyes occasionally flicked toward Elias, curious and unreadable.
This was the moment.
Elias took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Damien... there's something I need to talk to you about."
Damien paused, the towel mid-motion over his hair. "What is it?" he asked softly, the room suddenly feeling heavier.
"I've been meaning to tell you since the ceremony. Actually—long before that. It's about this marriage... I need to be honest with you."
But before Damien could answer, his phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand. The sudden vibration broke the fragile atmosphere.
Elias's eyes darted to the screen.
Secretary Kim.
His brows furrowed. Why is his secretary calling at this hour?
Damien glanced at the name, then at Elias with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, just give me a moment."
He picked up the phone and turned away slightly, pressing it to his ear. Elias stood there in growing unease, straining to catch fragments of the conversation.
"...Yes, now? … I see... Tell them I'll be there in thirty... No, I'll handle it myself."
The tone of his voice was clipped, businesslike, a complete shift from the quiet, intimate moment they were sharing just a heartbeat ago.
When Damien turned back to face him, his expression had shifted too—still warm, but shadowed by duty. "Elias... I'm really sorry. Something urgent came up at the office. I need to head out."
Elias blinked, stunned. "Now? It's nearly midnight."
Damien moved closer, brushing a hand gently over Elias's arm. "I promise I'll make it up to you. I didn't want this to happen tonight of all nights, but it's something I can't ignore."
Elias's lips parted, but the words caught in his throat. Of course. Of course he had to leave. It was always going to be this way, wasn't it?
He managed a shaky smile and a small nod. "Okay. I get it."
Damien gave him a tender look before stepping out to change. Elias sat back down on the bed, the ring box now tucked away under the pillow like a secret he was no longer sure he wanted.
The sound of drawers opening, fabric rustling, the quiet jingle of keys—it all echoed in Elias's head louder than it should have. Each sound was another reminder that Damien was leaving him, just like every other person had.
When Damien returned, fully dressed in a sleek dark suit, Elias stood up again, his heart racing. He knew if he didn't say it now, he never would.
"Damien—wait," he said, stepping in front of him. "Before you go... please, just listen to me for a second."
Damien looked at him, still patient, still impossibly calm.
"I want a divorce."
The words were quiet. Not cold. Not angry. Just... tired.
Damien's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't interrupt. Elias continued, voice trembling but firm.
"This... this arrangement, it doesn't make sense. You don't even know me, and I don't know you. We're playing roles we didn't ask for, and tonight... you're already leaving. On our wedding night." He gave a broken laugh. "I'm not angry. I swear I'm not. I just... I can't live like this. Pretending."
Damien was silent for a moment, the weight of Elias's words settling between them like fog.
"Elias..."
"I'm not saying this because of Alex," Elias added quickly, his throat tight. "I'm saying this because I need to choose myself this time. I don't want to be a placeholder. Not for anyone. Not again."
Damien stared at him, unreadable, then slowly exhaled and reached out to gently tuck a stray curl behind Elias's ear.
"I'm not leaving you, Elias," he said quietly. "I'm leaving for work. I didn't want this to be our beginning. I hate that it is. But... I'll come back. And we can talk. Really talk."
But Elias only nodded again, more for himself than Damien. "Okay."
Damien lingered a moment longer, then finally turned and left the room.
Elias sat back down, staring at the door long after it closed. The silence left behind felt even louder than before.
This was their beginning—and maybe, already, the beginning of the end.