Chapter 328: When Silence Hurts More Than Words

Charles froze, his jaw slackening in shock as he whipped around to stare at him. "Are you for real? You actually want to come with me?"

"If I’m allowed," Mark said with a warm, steady grin. "So, what do you say?"

"Allowed?" Charles let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Are you kidding me? Of course you’re allowed. I’d love for you to come with me."

Mark’s smile deepened, relief flickering across his features. "Really?"

Charles nodded eagerly. "Really. I’ve actually been trying to figure out how to ask you. I wanted you there... I just didn’t know if you’d be comfortable meeting my parents."

Mark lifted a hand and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Charles’s ear.

"If they’re important to you, then they’re important to me. Besides," he added with a teasing smile, "I should probably introduce myself to the people who raised the man I’ve decided to spend the rest of my life with."

Charles’s eyes softened, his heart swelling with emotion. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Mark’s neck. "Thank you."

Mark chuckled softly, returning the embrace. "For what?"

"For loving me enough to take this step," Charles murmured.

Mark held him a little tighter before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I love being with you."

Charles blinked, tilting his head slightly. "What about your work?"

"Work can wait," Mark replied without a second’s hesitation. "Nothing is more important than you right now."

Charles groaned softly, lifting both hands to cover his face as a deep blush spread from his neck to his cheeks.

Mark laughed quietly before gently pulling Charles’s hands away so he could admire his flushed face. "I love it when you blush."

"Stop, babe," Charles muttered, unable to hide his smile. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "By the way, babe, I’ll be meeting up with Frank tomorrow night."

"Alright, pretty," Mark said with a nod.

Charles began to rise to head upstairs, but Mark’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Babe?" Mark called softly.

Charles paused and turned back. "Yes?"

Mark hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"I know it’s not really my place to interfere with your friendships, but... I’ve noticed you’ve only been hanging out with Frank lately. You haven’t mentioned Adrian in weeks. Is everything okay?"

Charles let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"I’m actually glad you asked." He said. "We still chat every day, but lately... Adrian has been turning down every invitation to hang out. He always has an excuse, and after asking him so many times, Frank and I decided to stop pushing him and give him some space."

Mark frowned. "When did he start distancing himself like that?"

Charles looked down at his hands. "Ever since the fake-death incident," he admitted quietly. "Even now, we still haven’t sat down and talked about everything face-to-face. He apologized in the group chat, and honestly, Frank and I understood why he did what he did. We forgave him immediately. What we don’t understand is why he’s avoiding us. We’ve asked him to meet up so we could talk, and we’ve even tried calling him a few times. But every time, he finds a way to avoid it. It’s like he’s deliberately keeping us at arm’s length."

Mark reached out and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It’s okay, baby. Maybe he needs time to process everything. Just give him some space, and he’ll come around."

"You’re right," Charles murmured, offering a small, appreciative smile. He leaned in and captured Mark’s lips in a sweet, lingering kiss before pulling away and heading upstairs. "I’ll be waiting upstairs."

"Alright, baby," Mark called after him, watching fondly as Charles disappeared up the stairs.

Back at Matteo Estates, Maxwell lay flat on his back in the quiet dimness of his bedroom, his mind stubbornly replaying the image of James standing in the restaurant parking lot with another man’s hand wrapped around his waist. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if James had really moved on that easily or if it had all just been an act.

A restless urge clawed at him, urging him to reach out, to type a quick message just to see what James would say.

He was still locked in a silent tug-of-war with his own pride when a soft notification chimed from his phone. It was a direct message on Instagram from James. Ever since he’d walked away, Maxwell had deliberately avoided opening any of James’s messages, terrified of what he might see. For a second, his fingers hovered over the screen, ready to tap the message open.

Then his jaw tightened. He stopped himself, pulled his hand back as if the phone had burned him, and tossed it onto the nightstand. Pulling the heavy duvet over his shoulders, he turned toward the wall and forced his eyes shut, leaving James’s unread message glowing in the darkness.

The next morning arrived beneath a gray, overcast Monday sky. Matteo had an early board meeting, so he slipped out of bed and got ready for work. Once he was dressed, he quietly checked on Adrian, who was still fast asleep. Their intense night together had left him completely exhausted. Deciding not to wake him, Matteo left a note on the bedside table before quietly leaving the house well before Adrian even stirred.

Maxwell left early as well, driven by a pile of urgent assignments his mother had dumped on him.

He buried himself in work all day, spending hours drafting reports, reviewing documents, and handling one task after another. Throughout it all, his phone buzzed periodically on his desk as more messages from James came through on Instagram. Maxwell ignored every single one, keeping his full attention on the task his mother had given him.

The day blurred by until evening finally fell. Just as Maxwell shut down his laptop and grabbed his keys to head home, another notification popped up.

This time, curiosity and sheer exhaustion broke his resolve. He unlocked his phone and opened the chat, scrolling through the string of messages. They were long, pouring out thoughts he hadn’t expected, but the core message was clear: James was begging for just one chance to talk face-to-face.

Maxwell let out a dry, humorless scoff.

It’s just a conversation, he told himself, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s not that deep.

He tapped out a quick reply.

Maxwell: Address.

A few minutes later, James replied.

James: My apartment.

Maxwell frowned and typed back a refusal, suggesting they meet somewhere public instead.

James’s reply came almost instantly.

James: What about tomorrow? I don’t think I can leave my room tonight.

Maxwell paused, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He typed a brief, Alright, intending to toss his phone onto the passenger seat and finally drive home. Instead, a heavy, restless knot in his chest made him delete it. He edited the message, hit send, and tossed the phone onto the center console.

Maxwell: I’ll be there soon.

James: Okay.

Maxwell drove through the quiet city streets, the hum of the engine doing little to settle the nervous tension tightening in his chest. Not long after, he pulled up outside James’s apartment building, parked, and took the elevator to the familiar floor.

A moment later, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.

Maxwell met James’s eyes for a brief moment before stepping inside. James closed the door behind him.

Before Maxwell could fully register the sight of him, James suddenly lunged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Maxwell’s neck and burying his face against his chest. He didn’t say a word. He just held on as though letting go would break him completely.

For a second, Maxwell froze. Every instinct told him to pry those arms away, turn on his heel, and walk straight back to his car. He didn’t return the embrace, but he couldn’t bring himself to push James away either. Instead, he stood stiffly in there, letting the silence stretch between them until James slowly lifted his head, his wide, searching eyes locking onto Maxwell’s.

They stared at each other in the quiet apartment, the air heavy with everything left unsaid.

James’s voice finally broke the silence, trembling with raw vulnerability.

"What have I done wrong to deserve this coldness?" he whispered, his eyes desperately searching Maxwell’s face. "We were fine... weren’t we? Then suddenly, you left the city and started shutting me out. You came back without saying a word to me. I only found out when I ran into you at the restaurant. Why, Maxwell? What did I do?"

His voice cracked. "Tell me what I did, Maxwell. Please... just tell me. If I hurt you, I’ll apologize. If there’s something I need to change..." His eyes glistened as he forced out the last words. "I’ll change."

Maxwell stared back at him, his face unreadable, every emotion locked behind an unyielding mask.

He didn’t answer.

Not a single word.

James waited.

His heart pounded against his ribs as the silence stretched between them, each passing second feeling heavier than the last. His chest rose and fell unevenly as hope slowly gave way to despair.

Still... nothing.

A defeated look settled in his eyes.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lifted his chin and leaned in, hoping that maybe... just maybe... the distance between them could still be closed with a kiss.

Just as their lips were about to meet, Maxwell turned his head away.