Chapter 18

Otherwise, it made absolutely no sense that Rhys would ignore him this completely. Was this really the Rhys he knew? The one who had always held onto Dante, saying they could never break up? The Rhys who had bewitched him by saying cheesy lines like, ‘Without you, it feels as if every light in the world has gone out,’ could not possibly be this cold.

What if this was actually an identical twin? Or a brother who looked almost exactly like him? Rhys had rarely talked about his family, so there might be some hidden secret of birth. Rich people who lived in places like the Upper East Side always had one of those stories, didn’t they?

Then all the new sides Dante had witnessed earlier would make perfect sense. The prickly attitude, the cynical way he spoke, even the rough, animal-like atmosphere when he snatched Dante’s wrist. What if those unfamiliar traits that had made Dante wonder whether this was another person were because he actually was someone else?

Even while Dante sank into this serious line of thought, Rhys continued forward, pulling farther away. The way he behaved—as if he couldn’t hear a single word being called out from behind—left Dante briefly at a loss.

I’m sure he still has feelings for me. Watching me talk with the attendant, giving the ticket back to me… none of that is the behavior of someone who wants me to get lost.

Still, he felt a little tired. Once he had decided to push forward, he knew he should keep pushing, but he had zero immunity to this sort of emotional rejection. Until he met Rhys, Dante’s past relationships had been made of shallow feelings that ended the moment he was pushed away. His previous partners had usually cheated and prepared to cut him off the instant Dante became annoying, meaning he never even got the chance to approach them again before everything ended.

His steps gradually slowed. Paying no attention to Dante falling behind, Rhys kept walking forward, as if showing Dante—who was still trapped on the day they broke up—exactly where he was heading.

It was hard to believe this was the same man who, whenever they parted late at night, had always stood there watching Dante no matter how many times Dante told him to go inside.

When someone behind him called out that he had left his suitcase behind, Dante barely snapped back to reality. “Ah, thank you,” he mumbled. Half-dazed, he picked up his suitcase again, but Rhys had already gone through the gate.

Dante trudged into the plane. There was no joy left in finally boarding the business class cabin he had looked forward to so much. Following the kind guidance of the flight attendant who checked his seat number, he walked down the aisle, and only then did he realize that his row didn’t have adjacent seats. Since the tickets were for 5A and 5B, he had assumed they would be side-by-side like economy seats.

There was no way Rhys hadn’t known this. He must have looked at the seat map and chosen it knowingly. Then… had he really chosen to sit alone across the aisle just so Dante could have the window seat?

After they had initially decided to go to Rome and before they booked the plane tickets, Dante had taken the initiative and done all kinds of research. At some point, he had seen a review saying that the view of Rome from a plane window was breathtaking and had excitedly told Rhys about it. After hearing that, Rhys had promised to make sure he booked Dante a window seat.

When the memory of the past washed over him and Dante realized Rhys’s quiet consideration, his exhausted heart instantly melted. He immediately looked to the side to convey his gratitude, but the aisle seat that should have been Rhys’s was empty.

5B. It was definitely this number.

Huh? What? Rhys definitely got on before me.

An ominous assumption flashed through Dante’s mind. The plot of Flightplan, the movie he had watched with Rhys, passed before his eyes like a revolving lantern, and his hyperactive imagination leaped to the terrifying thought that Rhys might have been kidnapped in the terminal.

Flustered, he grabbed a flight attendant and was about to describe Rhys’s appearance when he spotted him seated by the window on the opposite side of the cabin, past the two middle seats.

Rhys was making small talk with another flight attendant who had taken his leather jacket and was placing it in the coat closet. Perhaps he felt Dante’s blatant stare, because his expressionless face briefly turned toward him, before shifting back to the attendant as if losing interest entirely. Judging from how naturally he was settled there, it didn’t seem as if he had sat there by mistake.

Apparently, he had changed his seat during ticketing.

The heavy wall Rhys had built—giving Dante no chance even to sit near him, let alone seduce him—pressed down on his chest with the same helplessness he had been battling since earlier. How could he approach someone who pushed him away that fiercely? Even if he kept charging forward, he didn’t know whether he could ever make that cold back turn around.

Perhaps his disappointment was so immense because he had expected so much from the time they would spend together on the flight. Weak, discouraged thoughts lined up as if they had been waiting for this exact moment of vulnerability, but Dante shook his head to drive them away. It wasn’t as if he was going to give up on Rhys, so letting himself get discouraged wouldn’t help.

Because he had ended up blocking the aisle without meaning to, a flight attendant politely asked to pass. Immediately afterward, under the crew’s guidance, Dante handed over his coat, lifted his suitcase into the overhead compartment, somehow helped load a few other people’s bags as well, and finally sat down. When a flight attendant brought him a welcome drink, Dante quietly asked whether it might be possible to switch seats, but he was refused with an apologetic smile. Embarrassed, Dante smoothed it over with a gentle smile of his own.

All right, then. The cozy eight-and-a-half-hour flight I imagined is already ruined… so what do I do now?

There was nothing he could do right away. He would have to wait until after takeoff, watch Rhys’s movements, and look for a viable chance to say something. Not that he knew whether Rhys would even bother to answer.

Dante sank heavily into his chair and pulled out his phone to cheer himself up. Out of pure defiance toward Rhys telling him to delete the pictures, he wanted to look through his photo album.

The moment he opened the app with a gloomy face, the last photo he had taken two months ago appeared on the screen. In the picture, Rhys was smiling beautifully, his eyes curved happily and both arms spread wide open. It had been taken on the day they started preparing to live together and had moved a few of Dante’s belongings over. Rhys had caught Dante admiring their newly purchased bed and had warmly beckoned him closer.

Dante stared endlessly at the face of the beauty smiling like an angel. Then, while enlarging the image because he wanted to see Rhys’s features up close, something small caught at the edge of his vision. An object resting on the nightstand beside the bed.

Wait, this…?

When he shifted the screen sideways and zoomed in on the nightstand, he spotted a crushed donut. The object, mixed among framed photographs so naturally that he had never noticed it before, definitely occupied a distinct corner of his memory. Dante frowned, concentrating for a long while before miraculously recalling exactly where it had come from.

That donut, which looked as if eating it would absolutely give you food poisoning, was actually a novelty candle. Dante had given it to Rhys along with some playful nonsense about how it might inspire him as a sculptor. And he had gifted it on their official first date, no less. It had been their second meeting, during the period when Dante still had no idea it was even a date.

The cheap ten-dollar candle, which even Dante—the one who had bought it—had completely forgotten, had been carefully placed among framed photographs of the two of them. Right on the nightstand in the bedroom they had intended to share. Until only recently.

It was impossible to be absolutely certain from the photo, but there didn’t even seem to be dust on the candle. That meant Rhys hadn’t just left it there and forgotten about it. He had been actively dusting it, taking care of it. Dante looked at the enlarged photo, then slowly set his phone down. He covered his face with both hands and sank into a wave of emotional anguish.

I knew it… I can’t give up on Rhys. How am I supposed to let go of someone this cute and lovable? No. I can’t. I absolutely can’t let him go.

Somewhere inside his head, cold reason screamed at him. Give up. Please, just give up. You know there’s no hope. Are you really going to think he still loves you just because of a few ambiguous actions that may or may not be jealousy, or because he gave you back the ticket?

If he loved you, he would have contacted you ages ago. He could at least have sent a picture of Lily, but he ignored every single message and call. No, in the first place, he would never have done things that made you anxious.

But Dante’s stubborn instincts had always failed to reach any agreement with his logical reason. Truly, if he could, Dante wanted to follow reason, too.

But the donut…! The donut is right there!

The moment he saw that crumpled, ugly donut placed so carefully among the silver frames, Dante realized once again that he was not even remotely ready to let Rhys go.

People could call him crazy. Honestly, he already seemed to be losing his mind. So he might as well try everything he possibly could.

He reached a firm conclusion. Meanwhile, a chime sounded through the cabin as preparations for takeoff began. Following the automated instruction to switch electronic devices to airplane mode, Dante opened his messenger and went straight to his chat with Lazzaro before turning off his network connection. He typed out one final, grave question.

—How do I get him to share the hotel with me? If it works, I’ll buy you a souvenir.