Breaking into homes or knocking people out and tying them up — those were things Brian had only seen in movies. But now, he was in the middle of it.
He had no idea why it was happening.
The only things he could feel were fear, panic, and dread.
No one else came to mind.
He was trying to understand what this guy wanted from him.
The man wore a long-haired, blood-stained mask with bulging eyes.
He had gloves on his hands, and regular sneakers on his feet.
Judging by his upright stance, he didn't look very old.
But what good did that do?
A person tied to a chair couldn't get out, let alone stop a man holding a knife.
At least not in real life.
Michelle had gone out shopping.
She tried calling Brian a few times, but when he didn't answer, she figured he must have stayed late at work and didn't think much of it.
She didn't even know what she felt anymore.
But one thing was certain —
Even though her sex life with Brian was exciting and fun, it didn't feel right.
It felt… wrong.
Almost like they were in some twisted incestuous relationship.
She didn't want to ruin the friendship they had built over the years.
But it was already ruined.
And honestly… she kind of liked it.
Because both of them were good at sex.
They knew how to please each other.
They knew how to have fun.
She walked into the bookstore in the mall to pick up a book.
Romance novels usually caught her attention, but this time she wanted something else.
Her own love life was already dramatic enough.
While browsing through the shelves, she bumped heads with an old man.
"Sorry," she said quickly and stepped past him, heading to the other aisle.
The air conditioning wasn't working — the heat was suffocating.
Then her phone buzzed.
A message from Brian.
One she'd seen many times before.
"Wanna come over🫠??"
She hesitated.
Should she go?
As much as she wanted to, something about it felt… wrong.
But she knew herself — there was no turning back.
She left the store with the old man's gaze still lingering on her, exited the mall, and jumped into a cab.
"Brian Easton — that's your name, isn't it?" the masked man said.
Brian, his mouth gagged, nodded slowly.
Inside, he was screaming:
"What the fuck does this son of a bitch want from me? Why the hell is he doing this?"
"You know, Brian…" the man started.
"Sometimes, we all stick our heads into things way over our heads.
Why do you think we do that?
Because we want to?
Because we desire it?
Or because we've learned not to give a shit about anything anymore and just drift through life?"
"Fuck your bullshit," Brian said to himself.
"I know you can't answer me," the masked man continued,
"But I didn't expect you to sit there so fucking calm."
"Untie me and I'll show you what calm looks like," Brian thought, eyes burning with fury.
The tension in the room was heavy.
The masked man wasn't seeing the fear he had expected.
Instead, Brian looked angry.
Confident.
Unshaken.
That pissed him off — more than he realized.
But it wasn't true.
Brian was terrified.
He just knew how to hide it.
Especially every time the masked man circled around him.
Each time he moved behind Brian, he felt the cold sweat on his neck —
convinced that a knife would suddenly stab into the back of his skull.
But it didn't seem like the masked man wanted to kill Brian — not yet, at least.
He had invited Michelle over.
This had to be about her.
Brian's first thought was Theo.
But would Theo really do something like this?
He wasn't sure.
Before his thoughts could spiral further, a taxi pulled up outside.
"Thank you," Michelle said to the driver as she stepped out.
She turned her head toward Brian's house — but something inside her held her back.
Was it too late?
Maybe not.
She could still jump into another cab.
And that's exactly what she did.
"I can't… I can't… I can't," she muttered as she walked away.
What else could she even do?
The masked man saw Michelle turn back from the window.
He was stunned.
And then… something snapped.
"That whore! That petty, two-faced slut!" he screamed, slamming his fists into the walls.
"You ruined everything — all of it!"
He couldn't understand it.
Why had she left?
Weren't they supposed to be lovers?
"Hello Theo," Brian called out.
"You really thought you could do this?"
The masked man, now facing away, said nothing.
He gripped the knife tighter in his hand and started walking directly toward Brian —
but suddenly, he turned his back again and walked out the door.
Brian, now certain it was Theo, felt a wave of relief.
After the man left, he shouted toward the phone on the floor:
"Hey Siri! Hey Siri!"
He repeated it a few times and then said,
"Call Michelle."
The fact that the masked man had removed the gag from his mouth had allowed him to speak.
He tried calling her over and over,
but Michelle didn't answer.
He thought about calling someone else,
but that would mean the police would get involved.
Should he do it?
Had Theo regretted it?
Apparently so — he had left.
Michelle was pacing at home,
barely holding herself back from picking up the phone.
She felt guilty —
she was blowing the situation out of proportion,
there really wasn't anything serious going on,
but she was terrified.
Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and called.
(Phone call…)
"Theo, I need your help. Can you come over?"
Brian tried calling his coworkers too,
but no one was answering.
It was as if they thought he'd messed something up at work and were ignoring him for it.
His battery was about to die.
He started rocking the chair side to side,
managing to tip it over to the right.
The phone was there.
He ordered Siri:
"Hey Siri, text Michelle: 'Theo came home wearing a mask, he tied me up, I need help.'"
But Siri asked for the passcode.
Brian couldn't lift his head, so Face ID didn't work either.
He was left lying there like an idiot —
furious, foaming with rage,
until he finally resorted to screaming:
"Help me! Help me! HELP ME!"
But of course… no one heard him
Michelle opened the door and let Theo in.
That usual closeness, that familiar warmth between them — it was gone.
It was like the river that had flowed between two mountains for years had suddenly frozen.
They didn't say a word.
They just started hugging.
Theo sat on the couch,
Michelle laid her head on Theo's leg and stretched out across the couch.
She felt a kind of peace she never expected.
This — this felt so right to her.
Even though she enjoyed being with Brian, it was different.
Being with Brian felt like letting go of a cat you had lived with for years and bringing in a new one —
wrong and deeply unsettling.
Brian had been stuck in that position for nearly 12 hours.
His entire body was in unbearable pain.
He couldn't hold back his tears from sheer anger.
He kept yelling, screaming — but what good was it?
His phone had probably rung dozens of times due to him not showing up to work,
but he hadn't answered because the battery had died.
Still, he had hope.
Maybe one of his coworkers would come check on him and save him.
But no one came.
Sixteen more hours had passed.
Brian could no longer feel his arms.
The lack of circulation, the pain, the tension — it had all numbed him.
He drifted in and out of sleep, but even that didn't help.
His body was in such an uncomfortable position that real rest was impossible.
He was fading — mentally, emotionally, physically.
He had started thinking about death.
Not out of fear, but out of surrender.
"Fucking bastard Theo," he muttered, gritting his teeth.
"Let me get out of here just once, and I swear I'll break your fucking jaw."
He kept thinking. Kept analyzing.
But there was no way out.
His hands were tied with rope — thick, solid, expertly knotted.
There was no loosening it.
No chance of escape.
Unless someone came… and no one was coming.
It wasn't just the pain from the position —
he was starving.
His throat was dry, parched from screaming for help.
His lips were cracked.
His chest ached with each breath.
Everything about his body screamed for help.
Death… was starting to feel like the only option.
And during all this —
Michelle still hadn't called.
It had been 28 hours.
Not once had she dialed his number.
She thought about calling,
but she didn't want anything to do with Brian anymore.
That short and meaningful night with Theo had been enough.
She was in love with Theo.
He was her man.
Her future husband.
The father of her child.
Her mother's future son-in-law.
That was how she saw it in her head. That was her plan.
But… she still loved Brian.
So much that the thought of losing him tore her apart.
She wondered, Could we still be friends? Go back to how it was?
Brian, on the other hand, felt like he was already dead.
He was waiting for the end —
not in fear, but in peace, like it was finally time.
He thought about Michelle.
He understood now why she hadn't come.
She was with Theo.
It wasn't hard to figure out.
"Wow," he whispered. "Fucking hell… so this is how I die. And it's because of Theo."
His eyes slowly began to shut.
The dehydration and hunger had hit their peak.
The discomfort of his position was unbearable.
He could barely breathe.
His arms felt dead — as if no blood was reaching them anymore.
He thought, I'm either going to die… or be paralyzed.
But honestly, he preferred death.
He didn't want to live without his arms.
His vision blurred.
His eyes fluttered.
He was slipping away.
And finally, they closed.
Maybe for the last time.
When Brian opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was.
Everything looked… white.
Too bright.
Too clean.
He blinked a few times. His eyes burned.
His head was foggy, and his body felt weightless.
Then he saw them.
His family.
And Michelle.
They were all there.
He tried moving his arms.
They worked.
He could feel his fingers.
His legs, too.
No sharp pain, no permanent damage — just weakness, exhaustion, and hunger.
He didn't understand how he'd survived.
He barely remembered the last moments.
His mother leaned in, eyes filled with tears.
"What happened, son? Who did this to you?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Brian didn't look at her.
He stared off for a second.
Then simply said,
"Love, mom."
At that exact moment, his eyes met Michelle's.
She froze.
There was something different in his gaze —
Something unspoken.
Something raw.
It hit her harder than any punch could have.
She was seeing it for the first time.
He was in love with her.
Brian turned to his mother again.
"Who found me?" he asked quietly.
His mother wiped her tears and said,
"Your coworker. When you didn't show up to work, they came to check on you… that's how they found you."
Brian nodded.
No words.
But the weight of what she said sunk in slowly.
Someone from work had saved his life.
Not Michelle.
Not Theo.
Not even his family.
A colleague.
His father chimed in, visibly disturbed.
"What did you mean earlier, Brian? When you said it was love?"
Michelle remained silent.
She listened, stunned.
She had never heard Brian speak like this.
Never seen him look like this.
He was like a man who had died and come back with a truth too heavy to carry.
Was it a beautiful truth?
Or a tragic one?
Brian took a deep breath.
"I slept with a woman I met at a club," he said coldly.
"Turned out she had a husband. He found my house, broke in, attacked me while I stand. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair. He scared the hell out of me, then disappeared."
His mother began to cry harder.
His father wrapped an arm around her shoulder and asked,
"Do you know his name? His address? Tell me."
It wasn't just anger in his voice — it was rage.
The kind of rage that could kill.
Mr. Easton looked ready to find and end the man who had touched his son.
Brian later told the police everything.
That he didn't remember the woman's name.
That the attacker wore a mask.
But in his mind… he knew.
He knew exactly who it was.
Theo.
And he had made up his mind —
he was going to beat the living shit out of him.
Brian had been discharged,
but it had taken him nearly a full week to feel like himself again.
Even then, it was only physical.
His family had stayed with him during that week.
They never left his side.
Michelle, too, was visiting often — at least three or four times a day.
She was doing everything she could to help.
Cleaning, bringing food, sitting with him, pretending things were okay.
But nothing was okay.
Brian spent most of his time lying on the couch, watching TV shows,
resting his body,
trying to gather strength.
Because he knew:
there was someone he had to punish.
⸻
Theo, meanwhile, was at home.
Alone.
He lay on the couch under the air conditioner,
staring at an old photograph of his grandmother.
It was on a shelf above the television —
he hadn't noticed it in a long time.
Twelve years had passed.
He was just ten when she died.
He had forgotten her voice,
forgotten her scent.
But her face…
that face stayed with him —
both in the photo and in his memory.
"I miss you so much, grandma," he whispered.
Despite spending most of his time alone,
he hadn't looked at that picture in ages.
⸻
Then came a knock on the door.
It wasn't a surprise — it was Michelle.
They had made up.
After everything, they were together again.
They were adding fresh pages to that 32-million-leaf, rotting, broken love story.
But as soon as Theo opened the door —
a fist struck him square in the face.
He collapsed instantly.
Brian climbed on top of him,
throwing punch after punch,
so violently that Theo couldn't even speak,
couldn't move.
Brian may have broken his nose…
maybe his jaw.
He didn't say a single word.
He just got up and walked out.
He had one more stop to make.
One more name on his list
Brian had put on his cap.
Hands in his pockets.
A cigarette hanging from his lips.
He was walking — furious.
He stopped in front of a house.
Knocked on the door.
Natasha Dyer opened it.
When she saw Brian, she froze.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Brian gave a sly smile.
"Our night was unfinished," he said.
Before she could say, "My brother could show up any moment — please leave,"
Brian had already walked in.
He looked around.
No one was home.
That relieved him.
But Natasha was full of fear —
not because she thought Brian would hurt her,
but because of what her brother might do to him.
"Hey you!" Brian called out.
Mathew Dyer had just parked his car in front of the house.
He was holding a six-pack of beer and two bags of chips.
He looked up and saw Brian inside.
His expression froze.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he yelled.
"Didn't I tell you to stay the fuck away from my sister?"
Brian walked toward him.
Closer.
Closer.
Then —
without warning —
punched Mathew straight in the mouth.
Mathew, holding the drinks and chips, couldn't react.
Couldn't protect himself.
Brian took full advantage.
Fist after fist.
Relentless.
Brutal.
He was strong — he just didn't always use it.
"Get off my brother, you fucking son of a bitch! Move! MOVE!" Natasha screamed.
"I'm calling the cops! Get out! GET OUT OF HERE!"
⸻
Brian didn't feel okay.
But he didn't feel bad either.
But beating Mathew felt a little bit good too
As he walked back home, he was deep in thought.
Then he whispered to himself:
"Fuck it.
Was I born into this world with Michelle?"
His family had returned to their hometown.
Michelle was standing at the door, teary-eyed.
Brian looked at her and said coldly:
"What happened? Did your boyfriend dump you?"
Michelle lifted her head.
"I don't understand," she answered softly.
Brian leaned in, looked straight into her eyes — serious, sharp.
"While you were fucking your boyfriend," he said,
"I was dying in that house.
I called you over and over.
You didn't pick up that motherfucking phone even once.
That's your friendship?
That's your sisterhood?
That's your love?"
Michelle replied:
"I was scared.
I didn't want our friendship to fall apart.
But what choice did we have?
We did some things… and honestly, I really wanted it too.
It just didn't feel right."
"What?" Brian asked.
"Seeing you as someone I'm in love with," she said.
"I know you're in love with me, Brian.
And that's… a good thing."
Brian was about to respond,
but Michelle stopped him with a whisper:
"Shh."
"I don't know if it was Theo who did that to you," she said,
"but if you think it was, then that's enough.
I trust you.
And Brian…
I'm ready for anything with you."
Her voice was trembling.
Hard.
Tears were falling from her eyes like a waterfall.
She held Brian's hands tightly.
Brian stood there, stunned,
waiting for her to finish the sentence.
That one second felt like a year.
And finally, she said:
"Brian… I'm pregnant."