PETE'S POV
The air in the room felt heavy as I stared at Vegas, my heart a tangled mess of exhaustion and lingering pain. I couldn't look at him anymore; every word he spoke felt like a reminder of everything we had been through—the good, the bad, and the unforgivable. I just wanted him to leave, to give me a moment of peace. "Let go, Vegas," I whispered, the words feeling like a lead weight. When he asked if I was okay, I could barely find the strength to respond. I just needed him gone. "You should leave..."
He didn't move. Instead, he stayed there, his voice thick with a worry that I didn't know how to handle. He started promising the world, telling me he'd always be there and that he'd make up for everything. A bitter laugh almost bubbled up in my throat. Did he really think I could just believe him now? I asked him exactly that, and his honest admission—that he knew I wouldn't but would prove it anyway—left me feeling more drained than before. Finally, he gave in, promising to be there no matter what, and left. I collapsed onto the bed, the silence of the room finally washing over me.
I must have drifted for a moment because the next thing I knew, the door was opening again. I didn't even have to look to know it was Alex. When he climbed onto the bed and pulled me into a hug, I felt a different kind of tension bleed out of me. I tried to speak, to maybe explain the whirlwind of emotions still spinning in my head from Vegas's visit, but Alex cut me off. He had a favor to ask.
"Can we go on a date tomorrow?" he asked, caught me completely off guard. A date? After everything that had just happened? I looked at him, seeing the genuine desire in his eyes just to spend time with me, away from the chaos of our lives. It was a simple request, a tether to a normalcy I desperately craved. "Okay," I agreed softly. He smiled, that warm, reassuring smile of his, and told me we should sleep. As I closed my eyes, the weight of the day finally began to lift, replaced by the quiet comfort of his presence.
I promised myself that I'd tell him everything tomorrow after our date. As we lay there, his arms wrapped around me, the weight in my heart felt a little lighter. I let myself drift off to sleep, comforted by his presence and the quiet anticipation of the day ahead.
The next day was a whirlwind of everything I didn't know I needed. We started at the amusement park, then spent the afternoon by the lake and at the movies. After dinner, we ended up at the beach, walking hand-in-hand under the night sky. When Alex told me it was the happiest day of his life, I teased him for exaggerating, but deep down, I felt it too. Looking at him, I realized just how relaxed and at peace I finally felt.
The mood shifted when Alex stopped and looked at me, his expression turning serious. He said he had something to tell me, and for a second, my heart skipped a beat. Then he said it: "Let's get married."
My heart hammered against my ribs as Alex's question hung in the air. The weight of his proposal felt like a physical pressure, making it impossible to breathe, let alone find the words. I opened my mouth to speak, but only a few broken sounds escaped. Panic surged through me, cold and paralyzing; I knew what he wanted to hear, but the truth was a tangled knot I couldn't unravel. Before I could find my footing, Alex's expression shifted to something heartbreakingly resigned. He whispered for me to never mind, saying he just wanted to give it "a last try." My confusion flared through the panic—what did he mean by a last try?
The world seemed to tilt when he finally said the words: "Pete… Let's break up." I felt a hollow ache open in my chest. I stammered out a question, wondering if this was all because I couldn't give him an answer to his proposal. But Alex saw right through me. He told me that wasn't it, and that we both knew the real reason. A wave of crushing guilt washed over me as I apologized, but he wouldn't let me take the blame. He acknowledged that I'd tried my best to love him, but that I simply couldn't move on. I felt so small, so exposed, and all I could think to ask was if he hated me..
When he promised he could never hate me, a lump formed in my throat. I tried to bring up what had happened the previous night, but he already knew. He had seen me with Vegas. Hearing him say that Vegas had always been the one in my heart felt like a final, undeniable truth being laid bare. I looked at him, confused and aching, wondering why he had put us both through this perfect day if he already knew the end was coming.
I stood there in the quiet, the weight of Alex's words sinking into me. He told me he just wanted to spend time with me like this, but then the conversation turned to the one person I couldn't stop thinking about. Hearing him talk about Vegas—how much Vegas likes me and how much I still want him—felt like someone was peeling back a layer of my soul I had tried so hard to keep hidden. It hurt to hear him acknowledge that what Vegas did was unforgivable, yet still point out the undeniable desire in both our hearts.
"Why are you talking for him?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I felt a surge of defensiveness, or maybe it was just the sting of the truth. Alex didn't flinch. He told me he wasn't speaking for Vegas; he just wanted me to be happy. He said Vegas is my happiness. I tried to find an answer, a protest, something to say he was wrong, but the words died in my throat. "I..." I started, but there was nothing left to explain. The truth was laid bare between us.
He suggested we go back home, telling me to think about everything he'd said. He promised he'd always be there for me, even adding a grim joke that if Vegas ever treated me badly again, he'd kill him. A small, genuine laugh escaped me then—a break in the tension. "Okay... just kill him then," I joked back, feeling a strange sense of relief in his support. We turned to head back, the heavy air finally starting to clear.
VEGAS'S POV
The air between us was thick with a tension I had created, a heavy reminder of every mistake I'd ever made. When I reached for him, Pete flinched, his voice a low, tired plea for me to let go. I hated seeing him like this—broken, guarded, and wanting nothing more than for me to disappear. I asked if he was okay, though I already knew the answer. Every "mm" and every "you should leave" from his lips felt like a jagged blade to my chest, but I couldn't blame him. I had earned his silence and his distance.
I tried to tell him how worried I was, but the words felt hollow coming from me. He just kept repeating it: "Vegas, please leave." The finality in his voice finally forced me to step back. I promised him then, with everything I had left, that I would always be there. I told him I'd do anything—whatever he asked—to make up for the hell I'd put him through. I saw the skepticism in his eyes when he asked if I really thought he'd believe me. It stung, but it was fair.
"I know you won't," I admitted, looking him in the eye for the last time before I walked away. I didn't expect forgiveness or even trust right then; those were things I had burned to the ground. But as I turned to go, I made a silent vow to myself. I wasn't just going to say I'd changed. I was going to prove it to him, one agonizing day at a time, until he had no choice but to believe it. I closed the door behind me and left from there....
ALEX'S POV
I walked into my room and saw Pete lying on the bed, looking so small and distant. My heart ached just seeing him there, still carrying the weight of everything that had happened. I went over and pulled him into a hug, needing to feel that he was actually there with me. When he looked back at me, he started to say something—maybe an explanation or an apology—but I couldn't let him finish. I wasn't ready for the "buts" or the heavy truths yet.
Instead, I cut him off with a request. "Pete, can you do me a favor?" I asked. When he looked at me, confused, I finally blurted it out: "Can we go on a date tomorrow?" He seemed surprised, repeating the word as if it were something from another lifetime. I didn't want a quick dinner or a distraction; I wanted the whole day. I wanted to see him smile, even if it was just for a few hours, and remind myself what it felt like to just be with him.
When he finally whispered "okay," a wave of relief washed over me. It wasn't a fix for everything, but it was a start. I didn't want to push him any further tonight, so I just smiled and told him we should sleep. As we settled in, I held onto the hope of tomorrow, praying that one perfect day might be enough to bridge the gap growing between us.
The next day was everything I had dreamed of and more. We were like two normal people, leaving the chaos behind as we laughed through the amusement park, shared a quiet boat ride on the lake, and sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the movie theater. Every moment felt precious, every shared look a small victory. By the time we were walking hand-in-hand along the moonlit beach after dinner, my heart was so full it felt like it might burst. I couldn't help but tell him—this truly was the happiest day of my life.
When Pete teased me for exaggerating, I just looked at him, my expression softening. I wasn't lying; seeing him relaxed and happy was the only thing that mattered to me. But as the sound of the waves filled the silence, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. My nerves flared as I told him I had something to say. When he looked at me, expectant and curious, I took a deep breath and let the words out, pouring all my hopes for our future into them: "Let's get married."
The silence following my proposal was deafening, and I watched the color drain from Pete's face. When he started to stammer, panic flickering in his eyes, I felt a familiar, hollow ache settle in my chest. I didn't need him to find the words; his hesitation told me everything I had been trying to ignore. I cut him off gently, telling him to never mind. I just wanted to give us one last, honest try, but the answer was written in the way he couldn't look me in the eye.
"Pete... Let's break up," I said, the words feeling heavy but necessary. He looked at me, bewildered, asking if it was just because of the proposal. I shook my head because it was so much more than that. We both knew the truth. I watched him crumble into an apology, but I stopped him—he had tried his best to love me, and I knew that. But trying isn't the same as succeeding, and you can't force a heart to move on when it's still anchored somewhere else.
When he asked if I hated him, it nearly broke me. I could never hate him, no matter what happened between us. He started to mention last night, but I already knew. I told him I'd seen him with Vegas. That was the moment of clarity for me; seeing them together made me realize that Vegas has always been the one occupying the space in his heart that I was trying so hard to fill.
He looked at me with such confusion, wondering why I'd gone through with the date and the proposal if I already knew the end was coming. I just wanted one perfect day to remember us by, and one final confirmation that it was time to let him go so he could finally be happy.
I just wanted to freeze time for a second, to keep things simple between us before the world rushed back in. But I couldn't ignore the elephant in the room any longer. I looked at Pete and brought up Vegas. I could see the truth in the way Vegas looked at him—he loves him, maybe as much as I do. Even though I know the history, and I know what Vegas did is unforgivable, I can't deny what's right in front of me: Pete still wants him. I can see that same burning desire mirrored in both of their hearts.
When Pete snapped back, asking why I was speaking for his ex, it stung, but I didn't back down. I wasn't trying to be Vegas's advocate; I was trying to be Pete's. I told him straight out—I just want him to be happy, and the painful reality is that Vegas is his happiness. Pete started to protest, his voice trailing off into an uncertain "I...", but the lack of a real defense told me everything I needed to know. My heart was breaking, but I had to be the one to say it out loud.
I decided it was time to head back. I told him he needed to think about it, to really process what his heart was telling him. I made sure he knew that no matter what he chose, I'd be there. I even tried to lighten the heavy mood, joking that if Vegas ever stepped out of line again, I'd kill him. Hearing Pete actually laugh and agree to the "kill him" felt like a small win. As we started to walk back, I felt a strange mix of peace and sorrow, knowing I was helping him walk right back to the man who wasn't me.