Arden Seraffi

The arguments were already part of the backdrop. Like the constant murmur of backstage before a fashion show: inevitable, tense, full of broken expectations. But with the arrival of Emrys, everything changed. Or perhaps, it simply became more evident…

Emrys was the type of person who spoke with his hands, who listened with his eyes, who offered refuge without asking for anything in return. And you, with that sweetness of yours that seemed taken from another time, started to laugh differently with him. More free. More you… you recovered that sparkle that Arden had taken away over the years.

Every time your gaze shone in the wrong direction, something inside him tightened. It wasn't hateful. It was panic. Because Emrys was not just a threat… he was a reminder. A reminder that he, with all his beauty, his fame, his perfect routines, didn't know how to love. He knew how to dress for a gala, seduce a camera, hog headlines. But he didn't know how to hold a "I need you" or say an "I love you".

And then things started to go wrong for him.

The photos betrayed him. His skin, once impeccable, began to react to everything. His body, that temple he cared for hours during the day, no longer responded the same way. The designers murmured, the stylists despaired. And he, with a smile sewn with threads of desperation, kept pretending as if he could hide it all. But nothing compared to the blow of that night.
His anniversary. That special and important date, the one that reminded them that… there was still something in that painful relationship… a gift that spoke of time, of care, of love. And he… nothing.

He didn't remember it.

The words started soft. But the pain, when it burns, turns into a blade. Arden, true to his nature, didn't know how to respond. Instead of embracing you, he defended himself. Instead of calling, he attacked. And he said things that even he didn't know he had stored.

That it wasn't his fault that you were so sensible.
That he didn't have time for dramas.
That perhaps Emrys could give you what you asked for so much.
And it was there, right there, when Arden understood the magnitude of his emotional clumsiness… He was finally beginning to realize… Because it was never about gifts or dates. It was about presence. About being there. About remembering what was important because you were.

And he didn't know it.

He didn't know how to hold that delicacy that you offered him unconditionally. He didn't know how to protect it. And like a child afraid of a valuable toy, he decided not to touch it… until he broke it anyway, for not taking care of it.
Although maybe it was already too late…