***

They left the park an hour after dawn.

Ethelstan didn't want to leave, and Videgrel understood him perfectly. But fatigue and the need to go to work forced the man to insist on returning home.

The guy was upset. The happiness in his eyes was replaced by a deep sadness, and a shadow of sorrow appeared on his face.

"Tomorrow we'll go somewhere else," Videgrel promised as they got into the car.

Ethelstan just nodded, but his heavy sigh made it clear he didn't really believe such statements.

However, Videgrel didn't try to convince his stepson. He simply didn't have the energy. The man was very tired, and the thought of having to go to work in a few hours made his temples throb with a dull ache.

When they got home, Videgrel wished the guy sweet dreams and went to his bedroom. There, he took his phone out of his jacket pocket and looked with frustration at the seventy-four missed calls from Miranda.

His wife had been calling him almost all night, but he didn't answer. Things would have been different if Miranda had contacted him when he asked her to. But she chose to ignore his request and only started calling when security reported that he and Ethel had left the estate. This hurt Videgrel deeply. And although he knew he was being childish, the feeling of hurt was stronger.

Now that they had safely returned home, the man decided to call his wife back.

Shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair, Videgrel sat on the edge of the bed, dialed Miranda's number, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.

The woman answered almost immediately. But instead of a greeting, Videgrel heard an indignant, "What do you think you're doing?!"

Such a response left the man stunned, and for a moment, he didn't know what to say. When he found his voice again, he gently replied,

"Darling, you must have me confused with someone else. Since when can't I call you?"

For a brief moment, a ringing silence hung in the receiver, which, nonetheless, was quite eloquent.

"Videgrel, how could you take my son out of the house without consulting me?" the woman finally spoke, her voice sounding agitated and irritated.

Videgrel took a deep breath and calmly said,

"I asked you to call me back. But unfortunately, there wasn't a minute in your busy schedule for that. Besides, before we continue this conversation, I'd like to know since when did we go back in time and gays are considered mentally ill again?"

"Oh, please, don't start!" the woman pleaded sharply. "This has nothing to do with being gay. Ethelstan is a danger to himself, and his orientation has nothing to do with it."

After her outburst, Miranda took a deep breath and continued more calmly,

"He's a temperamental, disobedient, and capricious child. His manic desire to hug people has worried me since he was little. I had a hard time getting him to stop clinging to strangers. But then he turned his attention to the servants. And I assure you, not everyone liked it. I had to pay the staff extra for the awkward moments. So tell me, how could I let him go to school or leave the house? My work doesn't allow me to personally supervise him, and the staff can't handle it. For a while, I took him to my friend in Utah. She has a son who's about Ethel's age. The boys became friends, but a couple of years ago, my friend asked me not to bring Ethelstan anymore. She said Ethel drove her son to a nervous breakdown, and the boy didn't want to see him anymore. Later, Ethel gave my father a heart attack. And now he's set his sights on you. I asked you to avoid interacting with him. Why didn't you listen to me?"

"Miranda, do you hear yourself at all?" Videgrel couldn't hold back his indignation. "You declared your child abnormal just because he lacked social interaction? I understand you're busy, you're trying to provide for him and give him a better life. But at the same time, you're depriving him of the most important thing — communication. Not just with you, but with the entire world. And why should I avoid him? He's my son now. By documents and by law. And I'm not going to stay on the sidelines. He's already eighteen. Honestly, I don't understand what you hoped to achieve by locking him up at home. In three years, he'll just leave, and what will you do then? Lock him up in a psychiatric clinic? Are you seriously going to do that?"

"And where will he go without a penny to his name?" the woman scoffed. "He's used to expensive things. He's used to bossing people around. Even if he leaves for a week or two, he'll come back. So there's no need to worry about that. And don't indulge him. Do you hear me, Videgrel? Don't even think about taking him out of the house! I don't want any trouble."

"You're the one creating trouble for yourself, Miranda."

Videgrel shook his head, realizing the woman simply wasn't listening to him, and continued,

"Sorry, but I can't be that cruel to him. It's not his fault you don't have time for him. It's not his fault he loves men. Even I can see that all his actions are just desperate attempts to get YOUR attention. But you don't hear him. And I can't ignore this cry for help. Sorry, dear. Now I'm his father, and I'll act as I should."

"You're not his father," the woman reminded him. "If his father were alive, he would have disciplined him. But you want to have fun with him instead of putting him in his place. That's not what parents do."

His wife's last statement made Videgrel laugh nervously.

"Of course! Parents usually declare their children insane and lock them up. I wonder, what exactly do you mean by 'discipline'? What would his real father have done? Supported you? Beaten the 'nonsense' out of him? What, Miranda?"

The woman was silent. Maybe she was choosing her words, maybe she didn't want to answer at all. But Videgrel no longer cared.

"Be that as it may, I'll do what I think is right. Don't forget, I'm your husband, not some hired manager you can tell what to do and how to do it."

"I never meant to dictate," the woman backtracked, clearly not wanting to argue with Videgrel over her son. "You misunderstood me. I just don't want Ethelstan to get into trouble. And he will, mark my words."

Videgrel sighed in relief. He didn't want to quarrel with his wife. It wouldn't be good to start their married life with disagreements and scandals.

"I understand you, darling," he said softly. "You love Ethelstan, and he loves you just as much. He just needs a little attention. There won't be any trouble. Trust me."

"Be stricter with him," Miranda advised instead of answering.

And before Videgrel could say anything, she said goodbye, citing the start of filming soon.

For a few moments, the man listened to the short beeps in the receiver, then he hung up the phone.

He was terribly tired and wanted to sleep. The conversation with Miranda had exhausted him more than a full day of work. Yet he was satisfied with the result.

Stripping off his clothes, the man crawled under the blanket and closed his eyes. He had a lot of work ahead of him today, and to do it properly, he needed to regain his strength.

***

Once in bed, Ethel found it hard to fall asleep right away.

Tossing and turning, he recalled the fun he had riding the attractions with Videgrel. Even though the man sometimes froze with fear when they sped at dizzying speeds on the "American Coaster" or barely held back a scream when they plummeted from the forty-meter "Tower," he never complained.

His stepfather was neither a snob nor a bore. He didn't even seem like an adult, especially when he jumped in the "Haunted House" at the sudden opening of a coffin, from which a screeching skeleton tumbled out.

Ethel laughed until his sides hurt, amused by the pale man's reaction. And now, remembering it, he couldn't help but smile again.

He had a great time that unforgettable night. And as he drifted off to sleep, he thought that he would love to go out more often with his stepfather.

However, upon waking up, Ethelstan remembered that Videgrel had to work today, and there was no point in dreaming about outings beyond the house.

His mood soured instantly, and he came down to lunch in a foul mood.

Still, he couldn't resist the pleasure of hugging the man.

Sneaking up behind his stepfather, Ethelstan wrapped his arms around his neck and peeked over his shoulder, reading the names of the dishes offered today.

"I knew there wouldn't be anything interesting," he complained, fiddling with a button on Videgrel's jacket. "I think the chefs are starting to repeat themselves. Maybe Mom cut back on my food expenses."

"You're being picky," Videgrel smirked, pointing to a dish he liked on the menu. "To prepare this dish, your food budget would have to be increased tenfold, not cut back. So stop grumbling and sit down at the table."

Ethelstan sighed in frustration and pulled away from the man. But instead of going to the opposite end of the table, where he usually sat, he plopped down on a chair next to Videgrel and gazed at him with devoted eyes.

"How did you sleep?" the man asked, ignoring the puppy-dog look from his stepson. "No nightmares from the rides?"

Ethelstan gave a sour smile.

"I had pleasant dreams. And then I had to wake up."

He propped his head on his hand and pushed the menu away, refusing to have lunch.

Videgrel smirked.

"Did you get enough sleep?" he asked, handing the menu to the staff and glancing at his watch.

The man hoped he could get through all his planned tasks for the day. Even though he hadn't slept much, the feeling of lost time still lingered.

"Don't make any plans for the evening," Videgrel said after a brief pause. "I took the liberty of rearranging your schedule a bit, and I crossed out the mandatory 'house arrest' part. I hope you don't mind such a sacrilegious interference with your usual routine."

"You said you'd be busy today," Ethelstan said, not daring to believe his good fortune.

"For a while, I will be," Videgrel confirmed. "But I'll try to get everything done as quickly as possible."

Ethelstan's face lit up with a happy smile, and he felt cheerful and lighthearted again.

His mother hadn't been able to scare Videgrel off or make him give up his plans. Ethelstan had thought that after talking to her, the man would move out altogether.

But she failed, and that meant Videgrel would keep his promise and spend more time with him outside the house.

"Thank you," Ethelstan said, pulling the menu closer and fidgeting restlessly in his chair. Then, as if casually, he asked, "Can I go with you to work? I won't be a bother."

Videgrel was prepared for such a request. He understood that sooner or later, Ethelstan would become interested in the field he worked in. But he couldn't say yes.

"Sorry," Videgrel shook his head. "My establishment has strict age restrictions. I can't make an exception even for you."

"Too bad," Ethelstan's face fell, but he quickly smiled, realizing there was no reason to be upset.

The main thing was that he could get out of the house. He would figure out how to get into the club later.

After lunch, Videgrel went to work, but in the evening, as promised, he took Ethelstan to the city.

From that day on, no matter how busy he was, he always found a few hours to spend with the guy.

***

Over the next two months, Ethelstan saw more interesting and exciting things than he had in his entire life.

Videgrel took him to old movie theaters where they watched silent films and contemporary art-house films. He taught him how to roller skate and play bowling. Several times they went on small hiking trips in the woods, where they built campfires, slept in tents, and ate fish they caught themselves. They visited many museums and art galleries. And one day, they even crashed a beach party on the ocean shore where Ethelstan danced until he dropped.

In gratitude, Ethelstan tried to cause as little trouble for his stepfather as possible. But his insatiable desire to be close to the man sometimes led him to spontaneous and reckless actions.

However, Videgrel still did not fall for his tricks and light flirtations, enduring all of Ethelstan's hugs, kisses, complaints, and confessions with cold-blooded patience, sticking to his original position.

He wanted to be just a father or, at the very least, a good friend. And no matter how hard Ethelstan tried, he couldn't make him change his mind.

But time was relentlessly marching forward.

And his mother's return loomed on the horizon like a storm cloud.

She called and promised to return by mid-August. Because of this, Ethelstan lost his peace and followed Videgrel everywhere he went.

Requests to take him to work now came more frequently. Tantrums and antics became constant companions of their outings.

Ethelstan burned with jealousy and resentment, believing that Videgrel seemed too happy about the upcoming reunion with his wife. But Videgrel continued to keep his distance, driving the guy crazy.

However, at the very beginning of August, something happened that gave Ethelstan a faint hope of mutual feelings from Videgrel.

It was late at night, but they decided to take a walk along the embankment to enjoy the bright moonlight and the warm wind.

Ethelstan complained to Videgrel that the weather would spoil in three days, and it would rain all next week. But Videgrel paid no special attention to this and promised that the rain would not interfere with their walks.

Just at that moment, Videgrel's phone rang, and he answered the call. Ethelstan heard his mother's voice on the other end and frowned.

Videgrel always spoke to her very tenderly, which made Ethelstan feel like an outsider. Now, too, the man was cooing with his wife, and Ethelstan quietly seethed because his mother had interrupted their alone time.

When Videgrel ended the conversation with "I love you too," Ethelstan, without saying a word, turned and hurried to the car.

Videgrel caught up with him as he approached the parking lot. They even argued because Videgrel found his behavior childish.

That's when Ethelstan couldn't hold back anymore. Suddenly embracing the man, he kissed him on the lips.

But this kiss was different from the previous ones.

Ethelstan kissed Videgrel like an adult, brazenly pushing his tongue into his mouth when Videgrel started to protest against such behavior.

After that, Videgrel resisted for a few more moments, trying to pry the guy off him, and then he responded.

Pressing Ethelstan against the car, Videgrel kissed him passionately for several minutes, holding him in a tight embrace. Then, as if coming to his senses, he abruptly pulled away and fiercely wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"Get in the car!" he ordered, his eyes flashing with irritation.

And Ethelstan didn't dare disobey.

Climbing into the back seat, he fell silent, clutching his hand to his chest, almost crying from despair and heartache.

Videgrel drove him home and, escorting him to his bedroom, scolded him severely, warning him not to try such stunts in front of his mother.

The guy burst into tears and began to shout that no one in this house needed him. If that was the case, why was he being kept locked up and not allowed to go anywhere?

Videgrel silently listened to his complaints and grievances. Then, glancing at the door, he leaned in and left a gentle kiss on the guy's lips.

"Don't ruin my marriage," he pleaded, gently stroking Ethelstan's hair. "Please understand my position. You are dear to me. But right now, I can't give you what you want. Do you understand?"

Ethelstan didn't understand, but he nodded in agreement, completely confused by the man's actions.

Videgrel kissed him to calm him down but did so so sensually that Ethelstan's legs almost gave way.

Satisfied with his nod, Videgrel pulled away and left.

And then he disappeared for two days, citing a business trip.

Ethelstan was alone again. But now a tiny spark of hope flickered in his heart that perhaps Videgrel had developed tender feelings for him.

The man simply didn't want to hurt his wife, and that was something Ethelstan was willing to accept. He didn't want his mother to cry because of him either.

Yet secretly, he still dreamed that one day he might steal her husband away from her.

***

The dim light of the desk lamp couldn't illuminate the entire office, leaving part of the room in shadow.

It was there that Videgrel settled, sitting in a soft leather chair and sipping undiluted aged whiskey.

The drink burned his throat, spread through his stomach in a fiery wave, and clouded his mind, but it brought neither relief nor calm.

Two months had passed since the wedding, and during all these days, Videgrel had diligently fulfilled his paternal duties.

He spent almost all his free time with Ethelstan, doing his best to make up for the guy's stolen childhood by entertaining him with pleasant little things that could eventually become a hefty baggage of happy memories necessary for every person.

During these two months, Videgrel had several serious arguments with his wife and had to make significant efforts to smooth over these conflicts.

And after some time, he understood what exactly caused Miranda's concerns.

Ethelstan was an extraordinary person. With his incredible magnetism and beauty, he drew the gaze of people and became the object of their interest.

Wherever they went, Ethelstan almost instantly found himself at the center of everyone's attention. And it would be fine if this rascal didn't constantly provoke the curiosity of strangers by behaving provocatively.

He would blatantly cling to Videgrel in public: sometimes pressing his whole body against the man, sometimes gently touching his face, tucking long strands of hair behind his ear, or whispering some absurdity into his ear.

At first, Videgrel found his stepson's behavior amusing. But the amusement didn't last long. At some point, Videgrel realized that every touch from Ethelstan, even the slightest, sent a shiver through his body and filled him with an aching longing.

This scared Videgrel, but he couldn't stop interacting with the guy. That would have been cowardly.

Reflecting on his feelings and sensations, Videgrel eventually convinced himself that the reason for his reaction to Ethelstan was the prolonged absence of his beloved wife.

However, this problem was solvable. He started calling Miranda more often. And if her schedule allowed, he would talk to her for a long time, telling her how much he missed her and how he longed to be back in her warm and passionate embrace.

And Miranda reciprocated his feelings. Several times, they even had passionate video call dates, after which Videgrel would lock himself in the shower and masturbate, surrendering to his deepest desires and fantasies.

And this method worked perfectly... until Ethelstan began appearing in Videgrel's fantasies instead of his beloved wife.

When it first happened, Videgrel tried to convince himself that the image that came to him and triggered an intense orgasm was merely a cruel joke played by his exhausted mind. But when it happened again, Videgrel almost cried out in despair.

He searched for excuses. He convinced himself that he was confused. He kept telling himself that it was just a side effect of prolonged abstinence.

But could he lie to himself forever?

Ethelstan had taken over all his thoughts, completely pushing out the image of Miranda. Like a madman, Videgrel immersed himself every evening in the boiling lava of forbidden dreams, in which he did things with the guy that no porn scriptwriter could ever imagine.

But dreams remained dreams, and fantasies remained fantasies. And Videgrel was quite content with that. At least until Ethelstan, during one of their walks, pressed his lips to Videgrel's in a demanding kiss.

In the first moments, the man wanted to push the guy away. But as soon as the hot, agile tongue penetrated his mouth, his thoughts were mercilessly erased by the overwhelming desire that swept over Videgrel.

It was only by a miracle that he managed to restrain himself from taking the boy right there, on the quay parking lot, spreading his young body on the hood of the car.

With incredible effort, Videgrel was able to pull away. But the unfulfilled desire turned into anger: at Ethelstan, for recklessly playing with other people's feelings, and at fate, which had trapped him in a damned mousetrap of temptations.

But most of all, Videgrel was angry at himself for seemingly getting irreversibly entangled in his thoughts.

This anger was unleashed on Ethelstan at home. Videgrel scolded him for the first time for his capricious behavior. But the disciplinary process ended with the guy having a breakdown.

The man didn't know what to do. He felt not just like a cornered mouse, but a condemned man, walking with wide strides toward his own doom on a road from which there was no turning back.

All he could do was beg Ethelstan not to destroy his marriage with Miranda.

That night, Videgrel couldn't sleep. The next morning, he went to work and didn't come back for several days.

It was cowardice. Pure cowardice. But the man understood that the guy's next stunt would be fatal because he could hardly contain himself any longer.

But he couldn't 'hide' forever. He had to return home, at least to avoid arousing Miranda's suspicions.

And now he sat in a dimly lit room, slowly getting drunk, trying to drown out his anxious thoughts and the soul-consuming desire to go upstairs and lose himself in Ethelstan's embrace.

Strangely enough, the alcohol helped. Dissolving into his bloodstream, it calmed his frayed nerves and dulled unnecessary thoughts. Videgrel even thought that maybe it wasn't so much about base desires and instincts as it was about the loneliness to which, truth be told, he simply wasn't accustomed.

Through the golden prism of strong whiskey, the whole situation no longer seemed so terrible to Videgrel. Miranda would be back soon, and everything would fall into place. The main thing was to hold on until then. The main thing was not to fall into the abyss on the edge of which he had been dangerously balancing for several weeks.

But the door to the office opened slightly, letting in the wind in the form of a sleepy Ethelstan, whose gust ruthlessly struck Videgrel in the chest, causing him to waver in his conviction. And the man groaned inwardly, desperately clinging to the thin branch of his shattered self-control.

Ethelstan, rubbing his eyes sleepily, looked straight at him, making it pointless to pretend otherwise.

The man drained his glass in one gulp, poured more whiskey into it, absently noticing that he had nearly finished the whole bottle, and greeted him grimly.

The alcohol had done its job. His tongue moved reluctantly, making his words sound indistinct and muffled.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Videgrel asked, not waiting for a response to his greeting. "It's the middle of the night."

"It's almost morning," Ethelstan replied, stepping over the threshold. "The noise outside woke me up. I looked out into the yard and saw your car. How long have you been here?"

The man shrugged vaguely. He clearly didn't know the answer to that question.

Ethelstan noticed the drink in his hand and only now caught the faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air.

"Why are you drinking? Did something happen?" the guy asked, approaching Videgrel, who up close looked unusually disheveled.

His shirt was unbuttoned at the top three buttons, his tie hung loosely around his neck, and anxious sparks danced in his eyes, sending shivers down Ethel's spine.

This was exactly how the guy saw his stepfather in his erotic dreams. A bit unruly, wild, and rough. The memories sent a slight tremor down his legs, and a longing spread through his groin.

But Ethelstan didn't dare embrace the man. Something in his look warned against it. And the boy swallowed painfully, keeping his distance, waiting for an answer.

"Just tired," Videgrel lied, taking a deep breath, trying to quell either his anger or the awakening arousal.

Lately, the line between these two feelings had blurred, and the man no longer understood which of them dominated his soul.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Ethel asked, trying to find an excuse to stay in the office.

But his stepfather shook his head and poured himself another drink.

Noticing that the whiskey in the bottle was almost gone, the guy took two confident steps towards the man and took the glass from him.

"Don't drink anymore," he pleaded, placing the glass on the table.

Videgrel responded with an irritated click of his tongue and reached for the drink again, but Ethelstan intercepted his hand and, leaning forward, settled onto the man's lap, hugging him tightly around the neck.

"Can I stay like this for a while?" the guy asked softly, gently caressing his stepfather's nape and struggling to suppress the shiver that ran through his body. "I was afraid you wouldn't come back before Mom arrived. And I missed you so much."

Videgrel squeezed his eyes shut. He could almost physically feel his tormented brain crumbling into tiny pieces.

Ethelstan pressed his whole body against him. And from that embrace, the world around him started to fall apart.

"What are you doing, Ethel?" the man almost groaned, driven mad by the warmth of the young body enveloping him in a heady haze. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know," the guy swallowed painfully and, turning his head slightly, gently kissed Videgrel on the cheek, savoring the burning warmth of his skin.

The guy's kiss was the last drop that overflowed Videgrel's cup of patience, from which all his emotions poured out at once.

A thick mist blurred his vision. The room smudged, turning into a shapeless blotch of blurred colors, among which only Ethelstan's bright image remained.

The next moment, the man was desperately kissing those soft lips, roughly pushing his tongue into Ethel's hot mouth and sliding his hands under the thin fabric of his pajamas.

The guy lost the ability to breathe, trapped in the firm embrace of Videgrel. In the first moments, he couldn't even move.

His hot, passionate dreams had become reality. But they were nothing compared to what was happening now.

The blood in Ethelstan's body turned to lava, coursing through his veins with a powerful flow, igniting passion. And the guy, tangling his fingers in his stepfather's hair at the nape, responded to the kiss, teasing his tongue with his own. This elicited a low groan from the man, who squeezed the skin on Ethel's back in pain, unable to control his desire.

They kissed for several minutes, getting more and more heated, until Videgrel pushed the guy away, gripping his shoulders roughly.

But Ethel wasn't scared. He was already so close to his goal that he simply couldn't let the man escape.

Looking into his stepfather's eyes, where conflicting emotions and feelings flickered, Ethelstan ran his hand through his hair, letting the silky strands slip through his fingers, and brought them to his face, deeply inhaling their heady, teasing scent.

His heart beat even faster, revealing his anxiety. His head emptied. And his body was consumed with a feverish heat.

Ethel moaned softly, feeling that he was losing control, and leaned into the man again, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his lips to the hot cheek.

"I love you," he said in a trembling voice. "Please don't push me away."

If true madness existed in the world, Videgrel was now "introduced" to it personally.

Just a few words from Ethelstan, a few of his touches, and his pleading gaze shattered all of the man's barriers and moral principles, while the alcohol coursing through his blood paved a silky path to insanity.

Videgrel's fingers clenched on Ethel's thighs, and he abruptly stood, toppling the guy onto the floor and hovering over him. A couple of ragged breaths, a few short moments, and the man was once again attacking Ethelstan's lips, now without any hesitation, thrusting his hand into the guy's pajama pants and fiercely squeezing his buttocks.

Videgrel's member throbbed, aching for release. The guy's hot body beckoned to taste the forbidden fruit, and the desire that clouded his rational mind demanded that he take him right this second.

Ethelstan moaned something, but Videgrel couldn't hear it over the deafening pounding of his own heart. The Ethel's hand reached for the man's face, but he intercepted it by the wrist and pressed it against his crotch, deepening the kiss and almost immobilizing guy.

Ethelstan felt a firm bulge pressing into his hand, clearly discernible through the fabric of Videgrel's trousers, and froze, letting out a frightened gasp.

His dream was indeed coming true, but the man was behaving entirely differently than the guy had imagined in his fantasies.

He acted roughly, impulsively, almost angrily. His fingers, squeezing the Ethel's buttocks, caused pain. And there was not a hint of tenderness in the kiss.

Afraid that Videgrel had decided to simply use his body without feeling anything, Ethelstan pulled his hand away from man's crotch and pressed his palms against Videgrel's chest, trying to stop this madness.

It was bitter for him to realize that all his hopes regarding Videgrel had come true in such a horrible form. And he sobbed, breaking the kiss and turning his head to the side.

The quiet sob pierced Videgrel's consciousness like a red-hot needle, and he froze, horrified at what he was doing. Nausea rose to his throat. The blood drained from his face and seemed to leave his body altogether. He looked at the frightened guy who, having turned away, was biting his trembling lips and silently letting tears fall onto the carpet, and he couldn't believe that he had almost done something so terrible.

The realization of what had happened cut deeper than a sharp knife. It tore his heart into tiny pieces. It turned his soul inside out. And in his mind echoed Miranda's reproachful voice, which had repeatedly warned him of the danger.

Videgrel needed a few breaths to come to his senses. He sat up, ran a hand over his sweaty face, and swallowed hard.

"Sorry," the man said hoarsely and adjusted Ethel's rumpled shirt. "Sorry, Ethel, I..."

Videgrel didn't finish. He had no excuses, and he understood that perfectly. So he quickly stood up, checked his jacket pockets for documents and car keys, and, staggering drunkenly, hurried out of the office.

His mind was in complete chaos. He didn't care where he was going. He didn't care that he was drunk and that driving in such a state was dangerous. He had to leave. Immediately. Otherwise, his life, already spiraling out of control, would shatter into thousands of tiny pieces, impossible to put back together.

When the door closed behind Videgrel, Ethelstan felt like his heart would break from the pain.

Fear began to creep into the guy's soul.

What if the man, scared of his actions, never returned to this house? Then he would be trapped again, deprived of simple human joys. His mother would never let him leave the confines of the estate. And he would be a perpetual prisoner, locked in a golden cage. Lonely... unloved... abandoned by everyone...

Ethelstan began to sob uncontrollably, realizing that he would have to pay dearly for his selfish act. But he could no longer fix anything.

All he could do was hope that Videgrel would find the strength to forgive him. Otherwise, his life would lose all meaning. He would wither like a broken plant without the man's attention. And no one would be able to save him from this hopeless despair.