café was quiet.
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Not empty.
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But quiet enough that the sounds didn't matter.
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Low conversations.
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The soft clink of cups.
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The steady hum of something ordinary.
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Jackson sat by the window.
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Laptop open.
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Coffee untouched.
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The screen glowed in front of him
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lines of work he had been staring at for the past twenty minutes.
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He hadn't read a single word.
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His fingers rested on the keyboard.
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Still.
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Unmoving.
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It always happened like this.
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He tried to focus.
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Tried to move forward.
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And then
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something small would pull him back.
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A thought.
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A memory.
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Him.
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Jackson leaned back slightly in his chair.
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Exhaling slowly.
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"…It wasn't supposed to be like that."
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The words were quiet.
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Barely there.
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At first
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it had felt simple.
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Just being around him.
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Talking.
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Sitting next to him.
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It hadn't felt wrong.
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Not then.
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Jackson's jaw tightened slightly.
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"When did it start…"
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He already knew the answer.
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He just didn't want to say it.
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The moment things changed.
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The moment he stopped treating it like nothing.
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And started wanting more.
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More time.
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More attention.
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More of him.
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His hand curled slightly against the table.
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"I noticed it."
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That was the part that stayed.
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He had noticed.
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The way he didn't like it when Christopher talked to others.
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The way silence felt wrong when he wasn't there.
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The way he started choosing things for him
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without asking.
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Jackson swallowed.
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"I knew something was off."
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And still
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he didn't stop.
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Didn't slow down.
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Didn't question it enough to change anything.
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Because it felt good.
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That was the truth.
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Having Christopher look at him
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listen to him
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choose him
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It felt good.
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Too good.
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And he held onto that feeling
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even when it started to twist into something else.
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Something tighter.
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Something that didn't leave space.
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Jackson's gaze dropped to the coffee in front of him.
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Cold now.
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Untouched.
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"…I didn't let you breathe."
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The words came out quieter this time.
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More honest.
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He pressed his lips together.
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For a moment
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his expression didn't change.
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Then
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just slightly
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it did.
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A crack.
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His hand moved up
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resting briefly against his eyes.
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A slow breath in.
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"…I thought it was love."
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Silence.
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"It wasn't."
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Not like that.
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Not the way it should have been.
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His hand dropped back to the table.
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The laptop screen dimmed.
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He didn't notice.
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"…If I had stopped"
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He didn't finish the sentence.
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Because there was no version of it that changed anything now.
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That was the worst part.
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Not the memory.
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Not even the regret.
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But the fact that he could see it clearly now
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every mistake
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every moment he should have pulled back
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and none of it mattered anymore.
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Because it was already done.
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Jackson leaned back in his chair.
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The noise of the café returned slowly.
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Distant.
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Unimportant.
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"…Too late."
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The words settled heavily.
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Not dramatic.
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Just true.
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And no matter how many times he thought about it
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no matter how clearly he understood it now
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he couldn't change it. .
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He had already crossed the line.
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And there was no going back to before.