The morning in the villa carried a strange tension. Jamila moved lightly through her chores, humming under her breath, her anger toward Carl tucked neatly behind a forced smile. She wasn’t thinking of him anymore or so she told herself. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Dominick, the unexpected friend who had made her laugh when she thought she couldn’t.

By the garden, Dominick was already waiting, leaning against the fence with his easy grin. Jamila’s heart lifted at the sight of him.

“You’re early,” she teased.

“I couldn’t wait,” he replied with a chuckle. “Besides, Jhan walks through here around this time, right?”

Jamila laughed, shaking her head. “You’re hopeless.”

Together, they sat on the stone bench, talking in hushed voices. Dominick’s crush on Jhan made Jamila giggle, but beneath her laughter was relief finally, she had someone to lean on. Someone who wasn’t tangled in the same mess of secrets Carl carried.

Inside the villa, however, things were far from calm.

Carl leaned against the balcony railing, staring out at the horizon. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying the night before Mark’s hand on his shoulder, that quiet voice that seemed to see through him.

He hated how much he needed it.

The door behind him creaked open. Mark stepped out, his presence as steady and quiet as ever.

“You’re avoiding me,” Mark said simply.

Carl turned, smirk half-forced. “Or maybe you’re chasing me too much.”

Mark stepped closer, eyes sharp but warm. “You can push everyone else away. But not me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy, undeniable. Carl’s mask cracked for just a second, his breath hitching as Mark stood only inches away.

“I’m not what they think I am,” Carl whispered, the confession slipping before he could stop it.

“I know,” Mark said, voice low, certain. “That’s why you need me.”

Their eyes locked, tension thick. For a heartbeat, Carl almost let go almost leaned into the truth of what he was with Mark. But footsteps in the hall broke the moment, and he stepped back, pulling his mask tightly into place again.

Mark didn’t press further. He just gave that quiet, knowing look, the one that made Carl’s chest ache with both fear and desire.

Meanwhile, in the garden, Jamila laughed as Dominick told another story. She clutched her stomach, wiping tears from her eyes. For the first time in days, she felt lighter.

But then she caught sight of Carl through the villa window standing with Mark, his posture stiff, his face unreadable. Something about it struck her, made her chest tighten with unexplainable anger.

She tore her gaze away, turning back to Dominick.

She would move on. She would be happy. And she would never let Carl matter to her again.