But possibly, just perhaps, he could discover a way to choose the pieces of his own smashed life. He took a profound breath, at that point began walking, his steps heavier than ever but with a swoon glint of trust that, in time, things could get better, maybe not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but someday. As the rain kept on dropping, Haven walked through the lanes, not chasing after what he had lost, but slowly, very slowly moving toward anything that was holding up for him. Haven kept walking under the pouring rain, the cold drops soaking through his jacket as he left the coffee shop behind. His thoughts were heavy, swirling with memories of Alexis and the life they once had. He barely noticed the familiar streets blurring around him. As he continued, his feet kept moving on autopilot until he glanced up and realized he had missed the junction to his house. Cursing under his breath, he turned back, feeling the water seep into his shoes. Lost in his own mind, he hadn't even noticed
"I think I do," he answered, a little grin pulling at his lips. The other day, Alexis arrived at Matthew’s loft with a few bags and an apprehensive grin. Matthew helped her carry her things inside, his heart beating as the reality of the circumstance sank in. This was it, they were doing this. As she unloaded her things, Matthew observed her discreetly, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she was here, living with him. It felt surreal, like they were in a bubble, cut off from the rest of the world. But as the days passed, the bubble started to burst. To begin with, things were energizing. They went through their days together, giggling and talking, the excitement of being able to straightforwardly share their lives inebriated. But as time went on, cracks began to appear. The push of Alexis’ later partition from Haven weighed on her more than she let on, and it began to leak into their relationship. One evening, they sat at the kitchen table, eating supper quietly. Al
"Well, he is," Matthew snapped. "And you wish to figure out what you need, since I can’t keep doing this." She gazed at him, her heart beating in her chest. "I do need you," she said softly. "I just...I need time to adjust." Matthew shook his head, his expression difficult. "I don’t know if time is going to settle this." As the weeks wore on, the pressure between Alexis and Matthew proceeded to construct. Their once enthusiastic issue had turned into a battle, with both of them uncertain in case they could weather the storm. Alexis felt torn between the life she had left behind and the longer term she had guaranteed with Matthew. Haven sat at the edge of the park seat, his hands grasping the wooden braces, feeling the harsh surface press into his palms. The cool summer breeze stirred the leaves overhead, sending a cascade of gold and ruddy around his feet. His heart weighed overwhelming, burdened with the contemplations that had been tormenting him for weeks. He was used to his lif
Vanessa grinned, in spite of the fact that it didn’t very reach her eyes. “I was irate for a long time, Haven. You walked away when I needed you, and it hurts. But I’ve moved past that. We were both youthful, and we both made mistakes.” He gestured, blaming biting at him. He had hurt her, and now he was paying the cost for all the egotistical choices he had made. His life had spiraled out of control, and the incongruity wasn’t lost on him that the one person who might help him presently was the one person he had wronged so deeply. “I don’t know what I’m doing any longer, Vanessa,” Haven confessed, his voice splitting. “I’ve lost my wife, no more family that I’ve fantasized with her, and I’m frightened. I’m frightened that I’m going to end up alone.” Vanessa turned to him, her expression softening. “You’re not alone, Haven. You’ve got people who care about you. And I’m here, aren’t I?” Haven looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in a long time. There was a warmth
The basic points of interest of life that had ended up a consistent weight on his shoulders since Alexis had moved out a few months back. He still recollected the last day they both talked, the calm farewell that felt more like a murmur than a goodbye. There had been no shouting, no allegations. Just a waiting, overwhelming quiet that filled the house after she packed her bags and drove away. He hadn't seen her since, in spite of the fact that they had talked a few times on the phone, brief, empty discussions that never truly tended to what was broken between them. But nowadays, something was different. There was a thick envelope sitting at the top of the heap of files, perfect white, with his title printed flawlessly in Alexis's penmanship. A scowl wrinkled Haven's temple. He comes to it, his hand floating for a moment as in case he may as of now feel the weight of its substance. He tore it open, his breath catching as he pulled out a stack of fresh lawful records. Divorce papers.
The air between them grew heavy with the weight of inferred things, the shared history they had buried long back. Haven looked at her, the sadness in his eyes more than almost Alexis. It was about the life he had envisioned, the long haul he had clung to, and presently the agonising truth that was slipping through his fingers. "How did we end up here?" he inquired, more to himself than to her. Vanessa sighed. "I think, some of the time, we stop fighting since we disregard what we're fighting for. And by the time we keep in mind, it's late." Haven scowled, her words settling awkwardly in his mind. “Do you think that’s what happened to us?” His voice cracked slightly. Vanessa looked at him, her eyes delicate but firm. “Maybe. Possibly we just weren’t right for each other the way we thought. Possibly we were supposed to learn something from all of this, indeed in case it was hard.” He closed his eyes, trying to handle the hurricane of feelings that had been twirling in him since Ale
“I can’t allow her she’d go through with this,” he murmured to himself, the silence of the room nearly gulping his voice. His heart beat against his chest as he picked up the letter, wavering before reopening it. He didn’t have to be cool about it once more; the words were burned into his memory. "Hostile differences." That’s what she had called it. But what are the differences? They used to be so close, indivisible, accomplices in everything. At that point Matthew came along, and everything began unraveling. He stood up suddenly, pacing the room, his eyes dashing from the letter to the phone on the table. The urge to call her, to stand up to her, was overpowering, but what would he say? They’d as of now talked, or maybe, she’d talked to him about her reasons. She said she felt choked, that she needed space to discover herself. But that was all lies, Haven thought. It wasn’t about space or finding herself. It was about Matthew. He snatched the phone besides, his thumb drifting ove
Before he could say anything else, his phone buzzed on the table. His heart hopped as he saw her name streak on the screen. “It’s her,” he said, his voice scarcely over a whisper. Marcus looked back at him. “You gonna reply to it?” Haven gazed at the phone for a long minute before at last picking it up. “Yeah,” he murmured. He swiped to reply, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?” “Haven,” her voice came through the line, delicate but cold. It made his chest fix. “We got to talk.” “We’ve been needing to talk for a long time,” he said, his voice firmer than he anticipated. “You’ve just been dodging it.” “I haven’t been dodging anything,” she shot back. “I’ve been giving you space to process.”Space to process?” Haven felt his outrage flare. “You dropped a divorce letter in my lap, left me for another man, and now you need to talk about space?” She moaned on the other end. “This isn’t about him, Haven. It’s about us. We haven’t been great for a long time, and you know that.” “Y
The words stung, indeed in spite of the fact that they were said with a smile. Alexis felt her heart sink advance into question. Later that night, as she lay in bed gazing at the ceiling, she thought of Fiona’s words. Was this truly how she wanted her marriage to be? Continuously compromising, continuously collapsing beneath Matthew’s will? The next morning, Alexis chose to stand up to him once more. As they sat over from each other at breakfast, the weight of implicit words squeezed between them. “Matthew,” she began cautiously, “we got to talk.” He looked up from his phone, scowling. “About what?” “About how things have been,” Alexis said, constraining herself to meet his look. “I feel like I don’t have a voice in any of this. You’re making all the decisions.” Matthew inclined back in his chair, arms crossed. “What are you saying? That I shouldn’t help?” “I’m saying I want us to create these choices together,” Alexis said. “It’s our wedding, not just yours.” Matthew’s expres
“By the way, I talked to the location manager. We’re going with the country club. It’s classy and neighborhood, so it’s perfect.” Alexis rectified. “Wait... I thought we were still considering the garden setting? I preferred how open it felt.” “Too much hassle,” he replied without looking up. “And it’s costly. We don’t need all that.” “But—” she began, at that point ceased. Matthew at last looked at her, a shadow of restlessness crossing his confront. “What?” Alexis wavered. “I just... I really liked the plant. It was the first place we looked at, keep in mind? It felt special.” Matthew gave a tight-lipped smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Lex, you’re aswell wistful. The country club is better for everybody. Believe me.” She forced a grin, but inside, her dissatisfaction stewed. “Right. Sure.” The conversation finished there, because it regularly did. He continuously had a way of brushing past her concerns with the ease of a wave slamming over a little pebble, sweep
Haven looked down, incapable of meeting her look. “I know,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed.” She stood there for a minute longer, at that point gesturing, as if coming to a choice. “I think you ought to leave.” The irrevocability in her voice smashed something inside him, but he knew she was right. He had no right to ask her to stay in a relationship built on broken promises and unhealed wounds. Haven snatched his coat from the chair, his hands trembling marginally. “I wish things were different,” he said softly. Vanessa gave him a pitiful grin, her eyes tired but steadfast. “Me too.” He wavered at the door, as if trusting for some last-minute respite, some way to make everything right. But there were no more words left to say. With an overwhelming heart, Haven opened the door and walked out into the cool night air. The city buzzed around him, detached to his torment. He stood there for a minute, feeling the weight of his choices settle on his shoulders. A
Vanessa opened her eyes, languid but alarm enough to capture the pressure in his voice. “Haven, what’s going on?” She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at him in the dim light. “You’ve been acting odd lately.” He gave her a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s nothing, Vee. Just work stuff.” She didn’t buy it. Vanessa knew when he was lying, he’d continuously been an appalling liar. She reached out to touch his arm, but he winced, scarcely recognizable, but enough for her to feel it. “That’s not just work.” She sat up completely now, her dim twists tumbling over her shoulders. “You’ve been pulling away for weeks. Talk to me, Haven Please.” The truthfulness in her voice made his throat fix. He needed to give her a reply that would make things better, but he wasn’t even sure what he felt himself. How do you explain to somebody that they’ve gotten to be a placeholder, that their love is alleviating but not enough to fill the void inside you? “I don’t know, Vanessa,”
Vanessa brought down her look for a moment, rubbing her chin as in case the discussion itself was depleting her. “Haven,” she said softly, her voice presently tinged with pity. “I love you. I truly do. But love isn’t enough if you’re not willing to build something with me. I need soundness. I got to know you’re genuine about us.” Haven’s throat was fixed. The helplessness in her voice cut more deep than her disappointment had. He hated seeing her hurt because of him, but the fear of making the wrong choice still lingered expansive in his mind. “What if I can’t be what you need?” he inquired discreetly. Vanessa’s lips squeezed into a lean line. “Then at least be fair about it. Don’t string me along, trusting you’ll feel prepared one day. If you can’t commit, just say it.” Her words hung in the air like a challenge. Haven gulped hard, feeling the weight to reply. But what could he say? He wasn’t prepared to let her go, however he wasn’t sure he might allow her what she needed. “Van
He replayed their conversations, searching for clues and meaning, trying to decipher Vanessa’s mixed signals. Was she pulling away or just scared? The lack of clarity was maddening, and each day spent overthinking only deepened his frustration. Haven wanted to resolve things, to find a way back to the easy connection they once had, but the weight of the situation felt too much to bear. He sighed, wishing for a simple solution in a world that had become far too complicated. His feelings were a mess, anticipation tangled with an unpretentious fear he couldn’t shake off. He loved Vanessa, or at least he thought he did. But recently, things between them had been... complicated. She had developed a new form of energy, her persistence diminishing, and this evening promised to be another “talk.” The front door squeaked open, and Vanessa walked in without knocking, carrying a sharp vitality with her. Haven looked up, shocked by her brisk entrance. She wore a fitted leather coat and dark pan
One evening, Matthew chose to go up against Haven specifically. He knew it was trivial, but the thought of Alexis still caring about Haven chewed at him like a chip beneath his skin. Haven was at work when Matthew showed up, his arms crossed and a frown carved on his face. Haven spotted him from a distance and strolled over, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Matthew?" Haven said, shocked. "What are you doing here?" Matthew didn’t bother with little conversation. "We need to talk." Haven raised a forehead but gestured, driving him to a quiet corner away from the crowd. "Okay. What’s this about?" "It’s about Alexis," Matthew said, his voice tight. "I know she’s been talking about you. I need to know what’s going on between you two." Haven crossed his arms, his expression calm but watched. "There’s nothing going on, man. Anything she’s saying, that’s on her. I haven’t come out to her, and I don’t want to." Matthew took a step closer, his jaw tight. "Then why is she still so curious
“Did you hear that Haven got a huge contract deal? I continuously knew he’d arrive on his feet,” Alexis commented one day over brunch with friends. Her voice was casual, but there was a glimmer in her eyes, one that hadn’t been there in a long time. Matthew took note of it as well, and it chewed at him. To begin with, it appeared harmless, just sitting still in conversation, about an ex. Everybody does it, right? But as Haven’s name crawled up more habitually, a shadow of envy started to cloud Matthew’s mind. He tried brushing it off. "Why do you care what he’s doing?" Matthew inquired one evening, casually mixing his drink. Alexis looked up from her phone, her expression garbled. "I don’t. It’s just... curiosity, that’s all. I thought he'd separate after the divorce, but it looks like he’s doing better than ever." Matthew gritted his teeth but constrained a grin. "Great for him, I guess." Haven hadn’t expected Alexis to take note of his success, or care. But it didn’t take long
Alexis's voice calmed down. "Take care of Haven." He stopped talking, emotions swirling through him. A part of him wanted to scream, to let go of the anger and pain that stuck with him like a second skin. But another part - the part that has already started to be built - will be released.Two days later he called. "Mrs, Rennie's voice is clear and professional. Altheon has decided to proceed with your request. Thank you." Haven was silent for a moment, relief washing over him like a tidal wave, almost knocking him off balance. "Thank you, Mrs. Chambers," he managed to say. "I won't let you down." "I hope not," Reni replied. "Our team will contact you to complete the paperwork." Haven hung up and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He has done it. That night, Haven found him in a small village near his house, milking whiskey on the rocks. The site was quiet, with the faint hum of conversation settling in the background. His phone buzzed with a text from Darnell: You d