Alan sat alone in the garden, his gaze fixed upon the starry sky. The twinkling lights seemed indifferent to his plight, mirroring the emptiness he felt inside. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, of intimacy and joy. Instead, he found himself marooned in a sea of solitude, shivering in the cold. The chill did nothing to pierce his preoccupation; he was numb to the physical sensations of the world around him. His heart was heavy with the weight of unspoken regrets, his eyes reddened by tears that refused to cease.
"Lucas... left me alone on our wedding night!" Alan murmured through a trembling voice. Talking to himself had become a regular solace, a way to bridge the chasm of loneliness that had always been a part of his life. As the only child of a guarded household, his upbringing had been insulated, leaving him to confront the world largely on his own.
"What did I expect from this marriage? A tender kiss, a magical first night?" Alan continued, his tears cascading down his cheeks like silent witnesses to his suffering. His sorrowful reflection only deepened as he considered the gap between his hopes and reality.
"Young Master Alan?" The voice of Mr. Harris, the family butler, cut through the night's silence, jolting Alan from his reverie.
"Uncle Harris, please, just call me Alan," Alan said, turning to face the butler. The polite request was underscored by a tone of weariness.
"I cannot call you by your name, Young Master," Mr. Harris replied with a professional smile. Yet behind that facade, there was a palpable discomfort. He was unable to reconcile Alan as the husband of his master, a reality that filled him with unease.
"Alright then... Why are you here, Uncle Harris?" Alan asked, his voice soft, almost resigned. He had requested solitude, and the intrusion was unwelcome.
"Master asked for you," Butler Harris replied, a shiver of apprehension in his voice. He recalled the stern look his master had given him for allowing Alan out in the cold. For the first time, Mr. Harris had found his master's anger intimidating. It was puzzling to him why someone who seemed so indifferent could show such fierce concern.
"Oh! He finally remembered me," Alan said with a hint of bitterness, his pout visible as he followed the butler back inside.
---
Lucas Williams was seated on the leather sofa in his study, surrounded by a sea of emails and reports. The glow of his laptop screen cast a cold light on his handsome face, emphasizing the sharp lines of his jaw and the furrow of his brows. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the strength in his forearms. The epitome of control and discipline, he looked every bit the powerful businessman that he was.
Alan entered the room quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet. The sight of Lucas, immersed in work and completely ignoring his presence, made Alan's heart ache even more.
"It's late. Why haven't you gone to bed?" Lucas asked, his voice devoid of empathy. His gaze remained fixed on his laptop, refusing to meet Alan's eyes. The unspoken words between them were like daggers to Alan's heart.
"Our wedding night… Aren't you late too?" Alan's voice wavered as he questioned, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. The painful irony of the situation was not lost on him.
Lucas' response was a bitter chuckle. "Wedding night? Shouldn't you call it an unwanted wedding night?" His words were laced with a bitterness that cut deep, making Alan's heart ache. Lucas' detachment and disdain were like a cold slap in the face.
"To me, it could never be unwanted!" Alan sobbed softly, his dream of being cherished by Lucas dissolving into a painful reality. Every moment of his life had been consumed by the hope of earning Lucas' love.
"Of course, it is not unwanted for you! After all, you forced me into this marriage," Lucas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Despite his outward bravado, Lucas' heart was not in it. He knew the marriage was not Alan's fault, yet he couldn't bring himself to extend even a shred of kindness.
"Lucas, please, can't you like me just a little?" Alan's voice cracked with desperation. The pain in his heart was immense, a raw, exposed wound that seemed incapable of healing.
"Alan, you don't even deserve my hatred, let alone my affection," Lucas said with a look of pure disgust. Seeing Alan in front of him only brought back painful memories of his lost family. The boy, who had been a storm sweeping away everything he held dear, was an unbearable reminder of his grief.
"Lucas... Am I truly that unworthy?" Alan asked, his voice choked with tears as he looked into Lucas' eyes, searching for some glimmer of compassion.
"I don't know if you are worthy or not, but to me, you took everything I had, so I can't bring myself to like you," Lucas mumbled, a sad smile flickering on his lips. The pain of his losses was intertwined with his feelings toward Alan, creating a complex web of resentment and sorrow.
"I'm sorry, Lucas. I know I was wrong. I know what I did was horrible for you. But all I ever wanted was your attention. All I dream of is your love. Please, Lucas, please love me. I'll die without you," Alan cried weakly, collapsing to his knees in a display of utter misery. The depth of his pain was so profound that he felt it might consume him entirely if Lucas' love remained out of reach.
"Your tears won't melt me, just as mine couldn't melt yours years ago. So please, leave me alone and go to sleep. We're going back to my house tomorrow," Lucas said with a cold expression. His irritation with Alan's tears was palpable, yet he felt a suffocating guilt every time he saw them. The boy's persistent sorrow was a painful reminder of the love that had been forced upon him.
Alan silently rose, his legs trembling, and crawled into bed without bothering to remove his shoes or glasses. His heart was heavy, each beat a reminder of the chasm between his desires and reality.
---
Half an hour later, Lucas closed his laptop and made his way to the bathroom. When he returned, he noticed Alan sleeping uncomfortably, his face stained with tears. Despite his own frustration, Lucas felt a pang of guilt seeing the boy so vulnerable. He approached Alan, carefully removing his glasses and shoes. The sight of Alan's tear-streaked face stirred an unexpected empathy in Lucas. His heart ached seeing the child's innocence marred by the pain he had caused.
Returning to his sofa, Lucas lay down, exhausted from the day's forced festivities. As he drifted off, he dreamed of a tender moment, a vision of kissing a beautiful boy after exchanging wedding vows. It was a fleeting image of affection and warmth, starkly contrasting the reality he faced.