Chapter 8

“I’m sorry.”

Timothy’s expression fell as Yves pulled his hand from his grasp. The response ruffled his composure, but he still flashed him a smile, albeit forced. “I understand, Yveybs. Again, I’m not trying to force myself on you. I just don’t want to hold back expressing what I feel if I’m about to—”

“Tim.” Yves groaned, running both hands to his face. “Don’t misunderstand, please. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s just—”

“You like someone else. I get that. Like I said, you don’t need to return my feelings. In fact, you don’t need to do anything at all.”

Yves felt like slamming his head against the table. Accepting Timothy’s feelings felt like fulfilling a dying man’s wish. It was as if they had already accepted his fate without doing anything but to lead a life without regrets. That was not what he wanted.

“Nothing will change, you know,” Timothy continued. “We’ll still be friends. If you want, I can even help you score with your Daddy Director.