Work Text:
You start by working more.
He doesn't know why you suddenly throw yourself into your experiments and gadgets but you know and the guilt drives you crazy.
Next you just humm and fake a smile when he tells you that he loves you. Again, he doesn't notice and still greets you with a kiss on the cheek. The guilt gnaws at your gut and you feel like you will throw up when he grins up at you.
The next thing isn't purposeful or planned but it's just as ineffective. You wear the ring that somebody else gave you next to his ring. It's a small thing to him but it means a lot to you. The ring he gave you is heavy and you can't help but stare at it. You don't want to hurt him but you want him to figure it out. Again, the guilt eats at you.
You begin sleeping in the spare bedroom. He's concerned at this but you deny anything is wrong and make up an excuse about "not wanting to wake him up after you're up all night." He buys the excuse even though you internally beg him not to. You don't know why you keep lying when you so very much want to be caught. You want to cry but even you aren't that selfish.
You begin to think he's trying to buy your attention and affection. He makes you the biggest breakfast he can manage and gives you interesting machinery that he finds. You try to decline them with a smile but he doesn't take no for an answer. You don't eat the food, the guilt takes up too much space in your stomach. You want to yell and shout and tell him the truth but you can't. You don't want to hurt him. You go bed with an empty stomach but a heavy heart.
He starts to throw himself at you in a desperate attempt at what you assume is attention. His hands glide along your shoulders and traces patterns onto your back through your lab coat. You try to deny him but his face crumples and you can't do it. You can't say no and you can't tell him the truth. You're a horrible person and you tell yourself that as he sleeps with an arm draped over your bare chest. You want to crawl back to your own bed but his arm is a moral weight that holds you down and stops you from leaving.
You throw in more hints. Trips last weeks and you return with scratches on your back and bruises on your shoulders. He shakes his head with a laugh and sits you down. “Be more careful!” he says as he gently washes away the wounds that you asked for. “You have armour, you should use it.” You could tell him right there and then that the scratches aren’t from hostile mobs but you don’t. Once again, the words stick in your throat and refuse to leave your tongue. You fake a laugh and nod, promising to wear your armour next time. He makes you a new set of diamond armour. You nearly cry. You don’t wear it.
You get thinner and he gets more worried. Your work suffers but you don’t care anymore. You’re a horrible person doing a horrible thing. You could stop at any time but you don’t, you keep going back for more and more. You could confess at any time but you don’t, you keep lying and lying.
The guilt and self-hatred builds up inside of you like poison as you visit them more and more and hurt him more and more. It kills you from the inside until one day you just can’t take it. You’re eating the dinner he so lovingly made when it happens. He’s telling you about his day and how much he misses you when you’re on long trips when the words tumble out of your lips.
“I’ve been cheating on you.”
A tidal wave of relief washes over you as the words echo around the small kitchen. You force down the feeling as you watch his face crumple. You wonder if he’s known all along or if this is really a surprise for him. You selfishly hope for the former.
“W-what?” he stutters, blinking fast as his mouth hangs agape. The fork he’s holding drops down onto the table and his hands shake slightly. You want nothing more than to look away and not have to watch him break apart but you force yourself to. You’ve been a coward for too long and you deserve the hurt.
“For 3 months now.”
Now that you’ve started, the works come much easier. Every syllable makes it easier to breathe and you wish you had done this so much sooner.
“Oh.”
He bites his lip and turns his head so he doesn’t have to look at you. You don’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to look at you either. He takes in a shuddering breath and you prepare yourself for the shouting.
“Who?”
You blink back your surprise. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this wasn’t one of them. It should have been obvious really, you should have known him well enough to know he would ask who.
“Do you really want to know?”
He shakes his head before turning back to you. His eyes are sad but accepting, as if he’s a man awaiting his death.
“No, but I need to know.”
You guess it’s only fair that you tell him. You say the name and he buries his head in his hands.
“Oh god, oh god,” he repeats to himself and you feel like your words were the final chop. “I can’t believe this.”
You raise your hand to comfort him but you immediately think better of it. You want this to be as quick and painless as possible and you doubt touching him right now would help.
“Why?”
You can see the tears drip down his cheeks and onto the table. You stand up to get him a tissue but he looks up and you sit back down straight away.
“Why what?”
“Why tell me now? Why do it? Why them? Why...why…” he breaks down and the guilt comes back full force. You wonder if it will ever go away.
“I’ve wanted to tell you from the start!” You rush out your words, hoping the faster you speak, the faster this will be over with. “I just couldn’t hurt you like that!”
He laughs bitterly and gestures to the untouched food on your plate.
“And this was the time to do it? On our anniversary? I-I’m sure you really didn’t want to hurt me.”
You had lost track of time. You didn’t know. For the first time since everything started, you let yourself cry.
“I didn’t mean to do it today! I didn’t even know-”
“Of course you didn’t!”
He’s never yelled at you like this before. He was always the calm one in arguments, the type of person to ignore him instead of shouting. You wish he would ignore you once again.
“Why did you do it? Was I not good enough for you?”
Hurt slips into his voice and he goes quieter.
“Do you not love me any more?”
You wish he was yelling again. This hurts a lot more. Each quivering word is like a small knife in your heart and you just want it to stop.
“I do love you!”
You don’t know if you love him any more but you say it anyway, hoping it helps.
“I… I just felt like our relationship had fizzled out and this new one was just so exciting and-”
“Then why cheat?”
The words are almost a whisper but it still cuts you off. He sounds utterly defeated and crushed.
“I...I didn’t want to…”
“Didn’t want to hurt me?”
You nod and he wipes at his tears with the back of his hand. You stand up at the same time he does, arm outstretched. He shakes his head and your arm falls.
“You should have said,” he says as he walks over to the sink. He pours himself some water and refuses to look at you. “That would have hurt a lot less. We could have talked about it, sorted things out.”
“I'm sorry.”
His shoulders slump and his grip on the glass tightens. The room is silent for a moment and you consider leaving to pack your bags.
The glass shattering into tiny sharp shards in his hand stops that thought immediately.
“I’m so stupid!”
He curses at himself and now blood mixes with his tears.
“I should have known! I thought that you were busy with work but you weren't, were you?! You were just having so much fun with them that you couldn’t even spare me a minute of your time!”
He doesn't make any movement to clean up the blood or fix his hand but you don’t dare go near him.
“You made me worry about you every night while you were in someone else's bed, not giving me a single thought!”
“It wasn't like that…”
You take a step closer and he begins to sob again. You close the distance and gingerly take his injured hand in your own. All the fight leaves his body as you turn on the tap and place his bleeding hand under the cold stream.
“Please don’t lie to me.”
You grab the towel on the bench and carefully wrap it around his hand. He’s pointedly staring at you and it causes your stomach to flip.
“I thought about you every minute.” You confess as you lead him to sit back down at the table. “I promise you, I did.”
He continues to stare at you.
“That doesn't make it better.”
“I know.”
Because you do know and you wish you didn't.
There is silence once more as you check his hand to see if it’s still bleeding. You’re wondering if the largest of the cuts will need stitches when he finally speaks.
“Is this it?”
It’s all he says but he doesn't need to say more. You know exactly what he means.
“Yes, I think so.”
He nods wipes at his tears. You want to reach out and brush away the tears but you can’t do that any more. You lost the right to when you intentionally hurt him.
“Do you regret it?”
He needs closure and you understand that. You wish you could get closure but you don’t allow yourself to be selfish.
“Yes.”
He nods and stands up, walking to the bedroom. You follow, unsure of what to do next. You’re still waiting for him to hit you or start shouting at you again. You’re once again surprised when he begins to pack his own stuff into a large bag.
“This was your castle to begin with,” he explains as he pulls on his favourite red jacket. “This way it’s easier.”
“I am so sorry,” you say as you pull him into a hug. He doesn’t push you away but he doesn’t return the hug either. “I really am so sorry.”
You feel him nod against your shoulder and you realise you’re making this harder than it has to be. He wants a clean break and it’s the least you can do to give him one.
“Where will you be staying?” You ask once he steps out of your loose embrace and turns back to packing. “I can-”
“I think it’s best that we don’t see each other for a while.”
You nod and apologize once again. He grabs his bags and walks out to the stables he built. He grabs his favourite horse and hooks his bag to the saddle.
“Xephos…” You say and he pauses but doesn’t turn around.
“Yes?”
You smile sadly as he climbs onto the horse.
“I didn’t love them, not for one minute.”
He takes in a deep breath and grabs the reins.
“That makes it worse, Lalna.”
And with that, he’s gone.
But the guilt is still there.
And so is the stabbing of regret in your heart.