Chapter 56

Nathan’s house was located in Shoreditch, situated in a sleek residential pocket just off the new developments of the High Street.

The houses were either brand new or meticulously renovated. Matthew wasted five minutes ensuring his parking was perfect before stepping out to greet the support team, who were conducting their shift patrol in plainclothes.

“Nothing unusual?”

“No. It’s a quiet neighborhood.”

Satisfied, Matthew led the way through a white picket fence into a sophisticated garden. The house wasn’t massive, but for a single person, it was more than enough. Matthew pressed the doorbell, only to let out a sharp gasp.

“Dammit.”

“…What is it?” Alex asked, his reaction delayed by the paralyzing tension coiling in his gut.

“I forgot to pick up a file the psycho told me to grab from the lab.”

Alex looked at the door, which remained closed for the moment, and quickly offered, “I’ll go get it.”

“And leave my car with someone else? Not a chance.” Matthew dismissed the idea instantly.

“But I—”

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s not like you two are going to kill each other, right? Just wait with him.”

Before Alex could argue that they were exactly the type of people who shouldn’t be left alone, the door swung open. Both investigators turned to see Nathan standing in the entryway. He wasn’t dressed for work, wearing only a crisp white shirt and black trousers, his complexion pale with exhaustion. Nathan ran a hand through his blonde hair as he released the handle.

“Please, come in.”

Alex averted his eyes at the professional tone, but despite his efforts to stay composed, his heart hammered against his ribs. It was Nathan’s scent, the same one from his memories. It was a fragrance that felt cool at first touch, yet carried a deep, soothing warmth once you were close enough to truly breathe it in.

“I have to run back and grab some autopsy results I forgot.” Matthew gave Alex a firm nudge. “Why don’t you start talking with my partner here?”

With that, Matthew turned and left. Nathan’s green eyes swept over Alex with a dry, clinical gaze.

“Very well.”

Nathan turned his back and led the way inside.

Alex stepped over the threshold, closing the door quietly behind him. Worried about the rainwater on his shoes, he scrubbed his soles against the entryway mat before following Nathan with bated breath.

Nathan walked toward a glass table in the living room piled with documents. Alex tried his best to avoid direct eye contact, instead scanning the room, a habit he’d developed as an investigator. The expensive paintings on the walls, the clean wood-toned interior, and the perfectly organized furniture all spoke volumes about Nathan’s personality. The home was the height of modern sophistication.

Looking at his surroundings, Alex felt the crushing weight of the nine-year void between them. This wasn’t the childhood home where he used to play games with a younger Nathan. This was the home of a man who belonged to a social tier Alex could never hope to enter.

He was jolted from his thoughts by the sensation of a gaze. He turned his head and realized Nathan was watching him. Alex froze, feeling as though the floor had suddenly vanished beneath his feet. His palms began to sweat.

“Would you like some tea?” Nathan asked. His voice was utterly formal and dry.

Alex’s throat felt tight, and his response came a beat too late. “…Yes.”

“Please, take a seat.”

His business concluded, Nathan turned toward the kitchen. Alex stood in a stupor, watching Nathan set the kettle to boil and retrieve tea from the cupboard. His hands were pale and elegant as he handled the china, the same beautiful hands Alex remembered. The only difference was how long his limbs had grown, and how easily he could reach the high shelves without any help from Alex.

It was then that a memory surged up, unbidden.

A summer night under a massive moon, walking hand-in-hand. He remembered what Nathan had said after Alex had reached for the popcorn first.

—“I’ll make sure you can’t do anything with your own hands.”

He couldn’t stop himself. Ever since running into Nathan yesterday, the past had been leaking into Alex’s heart like a flood. The Nathan who had snatched away the popcorn only to hand him milk, the Nathan who had leaned in close enough to kiss just to bite the straw, he was standing right there.

It’s still so vivid to me. To me, it all feels like it was only yesterday.

Alex’s lips parted slightly, a wet, mournful breath escaping him. The moment Nathan turned back with the cup, Alex averted his eyes and walked toward the sofa. He focused his attention on the stack of papers on the table, desperately trying to keep his thoughts at bay, though the words on the pages refused to register.

Nathan walked over quietly and set the teacup down in front of Alex. Read the files, Alex told himself, yet his eyes inevitably drifted back to Nathan. He reached out with a trembling hand to grip the handle and whispered, “Thank you.”

Nathan merely nodded at the polite address and cut straight to the point. “I’ve reviewed the materials you sent. As the lab inferred, the organs of the deceased show clear side effects from forced trait mutation. I’ve discovered something that might help, but I’ll explain it all once Investigator Wayne returns.”

Alex took a sip of his tea as he listened.

Nathan’s voice, while not hostile, was dry enough to cause Alex physical pain. His body and soul remembered Nathan with terrifying clarity, yet the man in front of him acted as though Alex were a complete stranger.

But as the Earl Grey hit his tongue, Alex blinked in shock.

The tea was sweet, excessively so. He hadn’t mentioned his preference, yet the drink was laden with sugar, as if someone had dropped in two more cubes than the average person would ever take.

His mind went blank for a moment.

He gripped the cup tighter and took another sip. As the sweetness spread, a foolish, desperate hypothesis flared in his mind. Could he… still remember? Did he make it like this because he knows I love sweets?

Alex nervously rubbed the side of his cup before finally setting it down, his lashes fluttering with anxiety. He stole a glance at Nathan’s profile. The man was leaning back against the sofa, focused on the documents.

Alex spent several long seconds wrestling with his inner turmoil before gathering every ounce of courage he possessed to speak his name.

“Mr. Nathan.”

It was a strange way to address him. He should have used his surname, but the given name slipped out anyway. Nathan turned his head slowly.

“If you’re okay with it… I mean, if you’re willing, I have something I’d like to say—”

His sentence was a disaster. He whispered the words in an awkward, fractured tone. Nathan watched him for a moment before looking back at the documents with a dismissive air. Then he spoke.

“If you’re planning to apologize, don’t bother. It’s unnecessary.”

Alex fell silent, his entire body turning cold.

“And honestly, you might as well just speak to me the way you used to. It’s better than whatever that was.”

Nathan set the papers down and looked at Alex again, his expression frigid. Exposed so easily, Alex could only bite his lip as his heart hammered. None of the thousands of sentences he had crafted over the last nine years could make it past his teeth.

“Let me be clear. There is no need for an apology.” Nathan’s voice was familiar in its cadence, yet the underlying coldness made it sound entirely alien. “I don’t know someone like you. We only met because of a job.”

Alex couldn’t even manage to say he was sorry for speaking to him that way.

“I don’t care what your circumstances were back then. You made the decision to hurt me. That is who you are. Your actions defined you, and I have no interest in your hidden intentions. I only care about the result you chose.”

Nathan’s green eyes narrowed slightly in displeasure before returning to their usual blank state. The truth about David, or the photos Jessica Bundy had supposedly shown around, the words retreated into his throat before they could be uttered. He hadn’t intended to say it all immediately, but the things he’d hoped to explain if his apology were accepted were now things that didn’t even need to be said.

Alex rubbed his cheek and lowered his gaze, his voice a soft, broken thread. “…I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Nathan asked. It wasn’t a sarcastic retort, but a flat, genuine question.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Then stay sorry. For as long as you like. Your guilt has nothing to do with me. That is your burden to carry.”

Nathan didn’t raise his voice once. His clinical tone bore no resemblance to the boy whose eyes had blazed with fury all those years ago.

“I have no reason to forgive you or accept you back into my life.”

Nathan stood up just as the doorbell rang. Without sparing Alex another glance, he walked toward the entryway. Alex slowly looked down at his own hands. His left wrist, where he used to wear the band, was bare. All he could see was his own pale skin and a faint white scar. The sight felt inexplicably lonely.

☂