Charlotte unlocked the door with one arm still around King, gently guiding him inside her apartment. The place smelled faintly of jasmine and lemon, a comforting scent that seemed to hug King the moment he stepped in. She kicked off her shoes and helped him to the couch.
"Sit," she said softly.
King obeyed, sinking into the cushions like the weight of the night had finally caught up with him. His face was pale, and his eyes were glassy. Charlotte disappeared into the kitchen momentarily and returned with a glass of water.
"Here. Drink."
King took it with shaking hands, sipped, and mumbled, "Thanks."
Charlotte sat beside him, legs folded beneath her. She didn't speak at first, just watched him. Watched the way his eyes refused to meet hers. The silence ached.
Then, finally, her voice broke the stillness. "What exactly happened, King?"
His fingers tightened around the glass. His throat bobbed. Then, slowly, the words came. He told her everything, that moment in the bar, the stumble, how James only tried to steady him, and how Win reacted. His voice cracked halfway through, raw with confusion and pain.
Charlotte's face twisted with disbelief, then fury. He said that to you? Are you kidding me right now? She stood up suddenly, hands on her hips. Who the hell does he think he is? That arrogant, controlling, emotionally stunted.
"Char—"
No. Don't you dare defend him right now, King. Her voice trembled with rage. You trip, someone helps you, and that somehow makes you... what? Cheap? Worthless? That's insane.
King didn't argue. He just looked down, lips trembling, a tear slipping silently down his cheek.
Charlotte's voice softened instantly. She knelt in front of him and cupped his cheeks. I'm sorry, no one should speak to you like that. Ever.
He nodded faintly.
She climbed back beside him and pulled the blanket over both their legs. A long, quiet moment passed before Charlotte spoke again. You know I don't like to pry, "she said softly. But I need to ask, what exactly do you see in Win? I don't get it. I never have.
King stared at the water in his hand, his silence already saying more than words.
You're rich, King. You have money. You're smart. You're kind. You don't need him. If the partnership is too much, walk away. Why are you still with someone who treats you like this?
King stayed quiet. The question swirled in the room like smoke. He stared at nothing. His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but no sound came.
Then his shoulders started to shake. The glass trembled in his hand. Then, he placed it on the table carefully and covered his face with both palms.
And then came the whisper fragile and raw.
Because he stayed.
Charlotte blinked. What?
He stayed, King repeated, his voice cracking.
Charlotte frowned. What do you mean?
King's shoulders shook. When I came out, when he saw who I was, he didn't leave me.
Charlotte didn't move. She let him speak.
"But my mom…" His voice broke again. When she found out... it was right before she was supposed to move to Germany to live with her new husband. She found out I liked men. And instead of talking to me about it… she just said she was glad she knew before the wedding. It was a relief.
Charlotte's eyes widened slowly, heartbreak rising in her throat.
She left me behind, "King whispered. Didn't take me with her. She said it was better this way that I wouldn't ruin her new marriage.
Charlotte murmured, voice shaking.
He pulled his knees to his chest on the couch, curling in like he was trying to disappear. She left me behind without saying much. She didn't even try to understand.
She said her new life would be too complicated with me in it that leaving me behind was for the best. Then she left, like I was never meant to come along. But Win... he stayed. He booked appointments, sat through cold waiting rooms, and watched doctors ask me the same questions again and again. He didn't always get it right. Sometimes, he yelled, "Sometimes he said the wrong things, but he was there." He kept showing up. Even when I was falling apart, he tried.
Charlotte reached for him but didn't say anything yet.
King gave a broken laugh. And the worst part? I still tell people I talk to her. That we call. That she checks on me.
Charlotte's breath caught.
But the truth is… she only calls on my birthday. Once a year. And even that. His voice thinned out. I think she only calls because Win reminds her.
Charlotte was completely still now, hand frozen over his kneel.
I've sent her messages. Updates. Even new pictures of myself, he said, his voice trailing off into silence. She never replies. Not once.
She touched his shoulder gently.
And you never told Win?
He shook his head. "I didn't want him to feel sorry for me."
Another breath caught in his throat.
"He thinks she still talks to me. He doesn't know I've been pretending all this time."
Charlotte's voice was quiet now. "So, that's why you stayed with him."
King nodded slowly. Because even when he's harsh, when he's cold he stayed. He was all I had when everyone else walked away.
His voice hitched again, and his shoulders trembled.
And even now when he yells or says hurtful things, I can't seem to walk away. Because the truth is, Win's the only family I have left.
Charlotte's chest ached. She reached up and cupped his face, brushing the tears from his cheek with her thumbs.
"I'm so sorry, King."
"I don't know why I'm not enough for anyone."
Charlotte didn't answer right away. She looked at him and then shifted closer, her voice low, steady.
I may not have known you the longest, King… but I see you. And you are enough. More than enough.
She brushed her thumb gently beneath his eye, catching another falling tear.
"And now… I get it. I understand why it hurts so much."
Her voice cracked just slightly, not from pity but from care.
Then, finally, she pulled him into a hug, one hand cupping the back of his head as he crumbled against her shoulder.
You're not the one who should feel ashamed, she whispered fiercely. She is.
King's tears soaked her sleeve.
I keep telling myself it's okay. That I'm used to it, he said through a shaky breath. But every time my phone buzzes, I hope it's her.
Charlotte closed her eyes, trying to push down the anger rising in her chest. You're just a boy, she whispered. A boy who wanted to be loved by his mom.
Win might not be perfect, King whispered. He says mean things. But at least he stayed. Even when I was a mess. Even when I couldn't sleep or eat, he stayed.
Charlotte opened her mouth, then closed it again. She couldn't argue with that.
She only held him tighter.
And when the doorbell rang minutes later, her eyes hardened.
She knew exactly who it was.
The knock on the door was light, cautious like someone unsure if they had the right to be there.
Charlotte rose to open it, but she didn't look surprised when she saw Win standing there, and Mike stepped behind.
Her gaze landed on Win's face, tired, regretful, his hands shoved into his pockets like they might anchor him.
"Is he okay?" Win asked quietly, almost like he was bracing himself for an answer he couldn't bear.
Charlotte didn't answer at first. She stepped outside, pulled the door behind her halfway closed, and stood in front of him.
You should be grateful I opened this door at all, she said, her voice even, but with that sharp edge, only someone protective could wield.
Win opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
I don't know what exactly you saw or thought you saw, but whatever it was, you let your pride scream louder than your love and that's not how you treat someone you claim to care about.
Win's face twisted, shame bleeding through his features.
I know, he said. "I know I messed up."
Charlotte took a breath, levelling her voice. He forgave you many times. He trusted you. This is your last chance, Win. If you ever make him feel like this again, I don't care how rich or powerful you are. I will personally destroy what's left of your ego.
Mike coughed behind him, awkward but impressed. "I told you she was terrifying."
Win nodded slowly. "I deserved that."
Charlotte pulled the door open wider. He's inside. But don't go in there thinking words alone will fix what you broke.
She turned and walked back in, giving King a reassuring look as she passed him on the couch.
Win turned to Mike. "Give me a minute?"
Mike nodded. "Take your time."
Win stepped inside.
King didn't move. He was still curled on the far end of the couch, knees tucked up close, a blanket Charlotte had given him thrown over his shoulders like armour.
Win took a few slow steps forward, stopping a short distance away. His voice was low and careful.
King.
The sound of his name coming from Win, gentle, careful, and sweet, sent something fluttering in King's chest.