The Snare of Symmetry C9

Chapter 9

Bernard felt as though his palms were constantly slick with sweat. He couldn’t even remember how he’d shaken the man’s hand. Beside him, Elliott teased him for making a funny face, but Bernard couldn’t muster a reply.

Nodding or shaking his head mechanically in response to whatever was being said was the best he could do. He didn’t register the words themselves. All he knew was that the two people in the front seats looked unmistakably happy—and that he alone was being swept along without truly belonging to the scene.

“Bernard. Is something wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

When Bernard got out of the car, Elliott approached him quietly, whispering with worry written all over his face. Bernard forced a smile and shook his head.

“No… it’s just surprising. Mr. Hurt, I mean…”

His fingertips trembled. Afraid someone might notice, Bernard shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to calm himself. His throat felt so dry he worried his voice would come out wrong.

“I thought you’d like him… don’t you?”

At the follow-up question, Bernard fell silent. His stomach churned. The green eyes watching him felt unbearably heavy.

“…Where did you meet him, Elliott?”

Normally, Bernard would have followed this with congratulations, with words like as expected of you. But Elliott looked puzzled by Bernard’s oddly anxious question. Still, he didn’t dwell on it for long, simply smiling brightly.

“He said he was looking for me.”

Bernard’s steps slowed.

“He said he was curious about me… wanted to know what kind of person I was.”

Bernard stopped dead in his tracks.

The distance between him and Elliott widened. Bernard stared at his brother with a face drained of color. Sunlight caught in Elliott’s brilliant blond hair as it fluttered softly. Elliott and Rubens—holding the restaurant door open—looked like a perfectly matched couple.

Watching Rubens bend down to kiss Elliott’s ear, Bernard swallowed a hollow breath.

He couldn’t forget and went looking.

Perhaps…

“Mr. Whale?”

Rubens called Bernard’s name with a warmth one reserves for someone they barely know. Bernard wanted to ask more—where the two of them had really met, what had happened, how he’d come to miss him.

But the difference in temperature between the gaze Rubens gave Elliott and the one he gave Bernard made Bernard choke down a bitter laugh.

Maybe… this was the natural outcome.

Rubens believed the person from that night had been Elliott. And the words I’m not the person you think I am had been far too abstract. Even if that night had driven him to search, the one Rubens truly grew interested in was clearly Elliott.

He was used to this kind of thing, yet it felt like he’d been splashed across a cheap gossip magazine. Rubens still held the door open, stepping aside to let Bernard enter first. Bernard forced himself forward.

The familiar scent of perfume washed over him.

Yes.

The same scent Elliott had carried home when he’d returned drunk.

The same scent that had filled the hotel bed when Bernard had tangled with him.

Realizing this so late made Bernard’s heart drop.

Dressed more casually than at the graduation ceremony, Rubens looked younger than his age. But Bernard knew—knew all too well—what kind of solid chest lay beneath that shirt.

If this hadn’t been a meeting to introduce Elliott’s lover…

Bernard might have felt flustered.

It was a strange sensation. Everything felt unreal, as though this were a play with Elliott cast as the sole protagonist.

The refined restaurant only made Bernard shrink further. Elliott looked completely at ease. His eyes never left his lover, and Rubens returned the gaze with a smile.

Place settings were arranged. Dishes were served. Bernard watched silently.

He smiled awkwardly when introduced as a beloved sibling. He answered that he was helping with his father’s work when asked what he did. Intimate yet dull conversation drifted by.

As Bernard cut into his steak, he remembered the way Rubens had kissed him.

How that thick tongue had stolen his breath so mercilessly.

How the grip on his jaw had been so strong he’d almost cried.

How those solid arms had wrapped around his waist.

“…And in the end, I decided to accept his confession.”

Bernard couldn’t bring himself to look at Elliott’s happy face as he recounted his love story. Pretending to focus on his food, Bernard lowered his head.

Base emotions kept scratching at his insides. He wanted—desperately—to blurt out what had happened that night. It felt as though one small push would make everything spill out. Cold sweat soaked his back, dizziness creeping in.

“I was troubled because he kept running away.”

“He said he knew me. Even though I don’t remember him at all.”

“You were probably drunk and forgot, Elliott.”

Rubens smiled faintly. He swapped Elliott’s plate for one more neatly cut, attentively taking care of him. Knowing that gaze wasn’t meant for him, Bernard quietly emptied his glass of water.

“At first, I thought he was strange.”

“If I’d known you didn’t remember, I wouldn’t have approached you like that. I didn’t expect you to forget everything after drinking.”

Rubens sighed briefly as he spoke—clearly trying to lighten the mood. Bernard noticed, but didn’t join in. He’d never been particularly social, and Elliott didn’t seem bothered by his silence.

“He kept saying he’d kept his promise, and I wondered if I’d dreamed the whole thing.”

Elliott’s shy smile would normally have meant nothing—but now it felt unbearable. Disgusted with himself, Bernard bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“…You weren’t upset that he didn’t remember?”

Petty spite. His water glass was refilled, emptied, then refilled again. Rubens laughed easily.

“It’s fine. I remember.”

Bernard returned a faint smile.

What Rubens remembered was him—yet he couldn’t say it.

A question surfaced unbidden: hadn’t Elliott felt the strangeness of that missing memory? Did he truly believe it was all because he’d been drunk? And Rubens—had he never found that blank space suspicious?

Bernard’s grip tightened on the glass, then loosened again.

What did it matter?

They were lovers now. Digging up the truth would only turn into tasteless gossip. Bernard would be dismissed as a fool blinded by jealousy.

“Elliott’s health is fragile.”

“Yes. Everyone around him keeps reminding me.”

Feeling he had to say something, Bernard chose the least dangerous topic. His concerned tone sounded natural. Smiling through the sensation of choking himself, he watched Rubens deliberately clasp Elliott’s hand.

Only then did Bernard notice the matching rings on their fingers.

A hollow feeling spread through him. The emotional connection of that night had truly been fleeting.

He should have worn better clothes.

Bought something new.

Made a good first impression.

Smiled properly.

Spoken well.

He should have lived one day not as Bernard Whale.

But he’d ruined everything.

Maybe it had been inevitable. Bernard Whale was always unlucky, always failed at everything. He’d been excluded from every group—this loneliness wasn’t unfamiliar.

Then why did it suddenly hurt so much?

Maybe because he wasn’t completely worn down yet.

“…Please don’t let him drink too much.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You’re such a nag, Bernard. You’ve been like that since we were kids.”

Bernard opened his mouth, then closed it again. He remembered Sarah and Liam, always asking about Elliott’s schedule, what Elliott was doing, what Elliott needed. Bernard swallowed something bitter.

“I care about you, Elliott.”

“You’re being sentimental today.”

Bernard’s fumbling voice sounded so pathetic it almost made him cry. Do I look strange right now? That shallow worry overwhelmed him. Seeing this, Elliott smiled gently.

They looked like something painted—perfectly beautiful. Watching Rubens’s sweet, blue eyes rest on Elliott was more painful than Bernard had imagined.

As everyone else was happy, Bernard found himself wishing he could simply disappear from the world.

“Excuse me… I need to step away for a moment.”

He bowed awkwardly and hurried away. His chest felt tight, his throat parched. Tears threatened to spill at any second. He fled to the restroom and turned on the sink.

“It’s okay, Bernard.”

In a life that was never okay, he told himself it’s okay every day.

It was okay when Liam scolded him for not taking care of Elliott properly.

Okay when Sarah worried only about Elliott and never asked about him.

Okay when someone he’d loved confessed they’d only approached him to get close to Elliott.

In the mirror stood a pale man with messy bangs shadowing his eyes. Behind thick black frames, dark green eyes filled with tears. His reflection looked unbearably wretched.

“They said it was okay… even if no one loves you.”

Everyone Bernard had loved had never loved him back. He’d learned early that love didn’t begin in hopes of reciprocation.

At last, a tear slipped free, trailing down his cheek and glistening under the fluorescent light.

Just then, the phone in Bernard’s pocket began to vibrate insistently.