Chapter 204: The Things Left Unsaid

*Bael’s POV*

"...Okay."

His fingers close gently around Runze’s hand as they climb the staircase together.

Runze’s touch is soft, warm, and familiar. Yet despite the physical closeness, something about the grip feels faint. Bael’s shoulders loosen slightly, but the subtle, persistent knot in his gut refuses to settle.

The second-floor hallway is quiet. Only the low glow of the wall sconces accompanies their steps as they head toward the master bedroom.

Normally... Runze would have said something by now.

Perhaps he would ask how work went at the office. Perhaps he would tease Bael for putting too much food on his plate during dinner. Sometimes, he would even complain that Mrs. Wen had secretly conspired with Bael to make him eat more than he wanted.

Tonight... there is only silence.

Even silence with Runze has never felt empty.

Bael glances sideways. Runze is looking straight ahead as they walk, his face calm and composed. If anyone else saw him right now, they would probably think nothing is wrong.

But Bael has lived beside him for too long. He knows every subtle shift in Runze’s moods.

This silence isn’t peaceful. It is tense.

Even the hand resting inside his own feels different. Runze isn’t intertwining their fingers the way he usually does. Instead, he seems to be holding on unconsciously, almost as though his mind is somewhere else entirely.

Bael swallows down the rising discomfort in his throat.

"...Are you tired?"

Runze turns his head just enough to look at him before giving a small nod.

"A little."

The answer is simple. Too simple.

Bael tries to offer a reassuring smile. "We can go to bed early tonight."

Runze only hums in acknowledgment.

The conversation dies right there.

Something tightens in Bael’s chest. By the time they reach their bedroom, that uneasy feeling has turned into a sharp knot of anxiety.

He opens the door for Runze, following him inside before quietly closing it behind them. The soft click of the latch echoes in the space.

For a moment, neither of them speaks.

Runze loosens his fingers from Bael’s hand and walks a few steps farther into the room.

Bael watches his back. His instincts are practically screaming that something is wrong. Without overthinking it, he crosses the short distance between them and slips his arms around Runze’s waist from behind, resting his forehead against his husband’s shoulder.

The faint, familiar scent of tea lingers on Runze’s clothes.

Usually, whenever Bael hugs him like this, Runze relaxes almost immediately. Sometimes he even leans back into his chest, letting his weight settle against him.

Tonight... Runze remains still.

Bael’s stomach drops.

"...Runze." His voice is barely above a whisper. "...What’s wrong?"

No answer comes.

Bael waits, telling himself that Runze simply needs a moment to gather his thoughts.

Still... nothing.

The quiet stretches until it feels almost unbearable.

Then Runze slowly turns around inside his arms.

Bael loosens his hold right away to give him space. The moment their eyes meet, his heart stumbles.

Runze isn’t crying. He isn’t visibly angry either.

He simply looks serious. Deeply serious.

There is none of the softness Bael loves seeing whenever those amber eyes look at him. Instead... there is disappointment.

Runze holds his gaze for several long seconds before asking, "...Did you disconnect my work email?"

Everything inside Bael freezes. His pulse stops dead.

For the first time all evening, he finally understands.

The silence, the forced smiles, the disappointment in Runze’s eyes.

It had all started with him. He is the reason Runze has been so quiet.

His throat turns dry.

"...Yes."

The answer comes without hesitation. He cannot lie to Runze. Not about this.

Fearing that even a second of silence will make things worse, Bael continues quickly.

"When you were in the hospital... the doctor said you needed complete rest."

Runze says nothing, just watching him.

Bael forces himself to explain. "You... you know how you are." A faint, helpless smile touches his lips for a fraction of a second. "If you had seen those emails... you would have worked. I couldn’t let that happen."

Images he worked so hard to bury resurface against his will. Runze lying still under sterile hospital lights. The doctor’s grave warnings, the terrifying uncertainty of not knowing if Runze would wake up.

His fingers curl into fists at his side.

"I was afraid," Bael admits, his voice dropping lower. "I remembered what the doctor told me. I remembered... how close I came to losing you. So after you woke up... I disconnected the email before handing you your phone."

He looks directly into Runze’s eyes, hoping to find a trace of understanding.

"I thought... if you couldn’t see them... you wouldn’t push yourself."

Runze remains still. Then he asks another question.

"...Did you tell Shen Rui to turn away everyone who was asking for me?"

Bael lowers his eyes briefly. "...Yes."

"Why?"

"At first... it was the reporters," Bael explains softly. "They kept calling the office, they wanted statements, they wanted interviews, they wanted information about your health." His jaw tightens slightly at the memory. "I didn’t want anyone bothering you while you were trying to get better. So I told Shen Rui to reject them."

Runze listens without interrupting.

Bael takes a breath and continues. "Later... the architecture firms started calling. They wanted to discuss potential projects. They wanted meetings." He pauses, struggling to frame his words. "I knew if you found out... you would insist on taking those meetings. You would have put work ahead of your recovery. So I told Shen Rui... to turn them down as well."

Silence settles over the room again.

Bael searches Runze’s face, desperate for any sign of forgiveness. He wants Runze to see that none of this came from a desire to control him or doubt his talent. It came purely from fear. From love.

Runze looks down for a moment before asking the one question Bael didn’t anticipate.

"...Why didn’t you tell me?"

The words aren’t loud, they aren’t sharp or accusatory. Yet somehow... they hurt more than if Runze had shouted at him.

Bael opens his mouth to answer, but no sound comes out.

Why didn’t he tell him?

Because... he convinced himself he was protecting Runze. Because he believed he was doing what was best for his family. Because he was so terrified of losing him again that he forgot the simplest truth: Runze is his partner, and he deserved to make his own choices.

A dull ache spreads through Bael’s chest.

"...I..."

He can’t give an answer. Not because he wants to hide anything, but because he genuinely has no defense for himself.

The realization hits him like a physical blow. He had sworn to himself that he would never hurt Runze again. Yet here he is, causing the exact pain he promised to shield him from.

Runze closes his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a quiet breath.

"...I need a little time." He turns on his heel and starts walking toward the bathroom.

For a heartbeat, Bael simply stands there, watching Runze’s retreating back. His mind desperately clings to the words Runze had just spoken.

I need a little time.

Time.

It isn’t I’m angry. It isn’t Leave me alone. It isn’t Get out. It’s only... time.

He tries to convince himself that those words are different, that perhaps Runze truly only intends to calm himself before they continue talking. Perhaps he should respect that, perhaps giving Runze the space he asked for is the right thing to do.

Yet no matter how hard he tries to reason with himself, the fear already lodged deep inside his chest refuses to listen.

Because this isn’t the first time he’s watched Runze walk away after being hurt.

The last time, it had begun just as quietly. One room had become two, conversations had become necessities.

Days had stretched into weeks, and every polite response, every distant glance, had carved another piece out of him until even going home had become something he feared.

Bael’s breathing gradually grows uneven as a crushing pressure settles over his chest, making every breath feel painfully shallow.

No.

Not that again. He can’t survive another cold war between them. He simply can’t.

Before his thoughts can catch up with his body, Bael closes the distance in two hurried steps and catches Runze’s wrist.

His grip isn’t forceful. If anything, it’s almost desperate. His fingers tremble against Runze’s skin.

"Runze...!"

His voice breaks, stripped of every ounce of his usual composure.

"Please..." He shakes his head desperately. "Don’t ignore me."

He tightens his hold just enough to stop Runze from taking another step, his eyes burning red as the cool, unflappable CEO completely unravels.

"You can yell at me. You can punish me. You can stay angry with me as long as you need... I deserve every bit of it."

His chest heaves, his voice cracking down to a raw whisper.

"...Just please don’t stop talking to me."

Runze pauses, his shoulders stiffening slightly before he slowly turns back to look at him.