Kai woke to the sound of someone breathing quietly beside him. For one disoriented moment, he forgot where he was. Then the hard waiting-room chair pressed against his back, the faint smell of disinfectant reached him, and he remembered everything. His father. The transfer. The payment arrangement. Adrian. Kai lifted his head from Adrian’s shoulder. Adrian was still asleep. That alone startled him. He had never seen Adrian sleep in a public place. The man always seemed too controlled to surrender even a minute of awareness. Yet now his head rested against the wall, his suit jacket slightly creased, one hand still loosely holding Kai’s. Kai checked the time. 5:48 a.m. “You look terrible,” Kai whispered. Adrian’s eyes opened. “Good morning.” “You were awake?” “Not entirely.” “That’s concerning.” “You were drooling on my shoulder.” Kai immediately sat upright. “I was not.” Adrian looked at him with a calm expression. “You were.” “Prove it.” “I decided to preserve your dignity.” Kai narrowed his eyes. “You’d better be lying.” “I am.” Kai stared at him, then exhaled through his nose. “You’re becoming annoying.” “I learned from you.” Before Kai could respond, a nurse approached. “Mr. Anderson?” Kai stood immediately. “Yes?” “The doctor would like to speak with you and your mother.” His stomach tightened. “Is my father—?” “He’s stable,” the nurse said quickly. “The doctor will explain the next steps.” Stable. The word relieved him, but it didn’t erase the fear gathering beneath his ribs. He turned toward Adrian. “I’ll be back.” Adrian rose. “I’ll wait.” “You should go home.” “I know.” “But you’re not going.” “Correct.” Kai opened his mouth, then closed it. He was too tired to argue effectively. “Fine. Don’t become comfortable.” Adrian’s gaze softened. “I wouldn’t dare.” ⸻ The doctor explained everything in a small consultation room. Kai’s father needed continued monitoring and further treatment. The transfer had been necessary because the previous hospital couldn’t provide the required care under the existing arrangement. The temporary payment plan had been approved, but it would need to be reviewed within the week. Kai listened, taking notes carefully. “What happens if the assistance application isn’t approved?” he asked. “We’ll discuss other options before the arrangement expires.” “Other options meaning?” The doctor gave him a measured look. “Additional financial review, charitable assistance, and alternative treatment arrangements where medically appropriate.” Kai nodded, though the answer left him dissatisfied. There were too many possibilities and no certainty. His mother reached for his arm. “Let’s take things one step at a time.” Kai looked at her. He wanted to believe that was enough. After the doctor left, his mother sat back in the chair. “You haven’t slept properly.” “Neither have you.” “I’m your mother. I’m allowed.” “That’s not how biology works.” She gave him a tired smile. Then her expression became serious. “Adrian stayed all night.” Kai glanced toward the consultation room door. “He had nowhere else to be.” His mother looked at him. “Kai.” “What?” “Don’t make everything difficult just because you’re afraid of how much it matters.” Kai fell silent. His mother had always been able to do that—say something simple and leave him with nowhere to hide. “I know,” he murmured. She squeezed his hand. “Your father and I don’t expect you to repay us for raising you.” Kai looked down. “Then stop worrying about me.” “That is impossible.” “Try.” She laughed softly. For the first time that morning, Kai smiled. ⸻ Adrian was waiting near the hospital entrance when Kai returned. His phone was pressed to his ear. “No,” he said coldly. “The meeting will not take place at eight.” He listened. “Because I said so.” Another pause. “Send the revised documents to Marcus. I’ll review them before noon.” He ended the call. Kai folded his arms. “Your board sounds thrilled.” “They’ll survive.” “Are you sure? They sounded emotionally devastated.” Adrian looked at him. “Did the doctor give you an update?” Kai nodded. “My father is stable. He needs further treatment and monitoring.” “Good.” “Don’t say it like that solves everything.” “I didn’t.” Kai watched him for a moment. “You need to go.” “Yes.” “But you aren’t leaving.” “I will.” “When?” “After you eat.” Kai groaned. “You really are obsessed with that.” “You’ve been awake since yesterday.” “I had a sandwich.” “Half a sandwich.” “You remembered?” “I remember most things about you.” The teasing answer disappeared before Kai could respond. Something warm and uncomfortable moved through his chest. He looked away. “There’s a cafeteria.” “Then let’s go.” ⸻ They sat at a small table near the hospital cafeteria window. Kai ate slowly, more because Adrian was watching him than because he felt hungry. Adrian drank black coffee. Kai stared at the cup. “That’s your breakfast?” “No.” “Then what is it?” “Coffee.” “An impressive demonstration of why you have stomach problems.” Adrian’s expression changed slightly. Kai noticed. The subject of Adrian’s health had been quietly avoided for several days. Kai knew Adrian often skipped meals, worked through pain, and hid his exhaustion beneath that controlled expression. “You didn’t eat last night either, did you?” Kai asked. Adrian set down the cup. “I had something.” “What?” “Food.” Kai stared at him. “You’re terrible at lying.” “So are you.” “I’m not the one who keeps pretending coffee is a meal.” Adrian leaned back. “I’ll eat after I leave.” “No.” Adrian raised an eyebrow. Kai pushed the untouched pastry from his tray toward him. “Eat that.” “That’s yours.” “I don’t want it.” “You ordered it.” “Then consider it an investment in your continued survival.” Adrian looked at the pastry. Then at Kai. “You’re concerned.” “I’m trying to prevent unnecessary paperwork.” Adrian picked it up. Kai looked away, pretending not to care. But he watched from the corner of his eye as Adrian took a bite. Only after he swallowed did Kai begin eating again. Neither of them mentioned the small compromise. Neither needed to. ⸻ At eight thirty, Adrian finally left. Kai stood beside the hospital entrance, watching him walk toward the car. “Call me when you get home,” Adrian said. “You’re the one who should call.” “I’ll call after I reach the office.” “That’s not what I said.” Adrian stopped. Kai hesitated, then continued. “Don’t disappear into work.” Adrian’s expression softened. “I won’t.” “And don’t make decisions because you’re worried about me.” Adrian studied him. “I’ll try.” Kai blinked. “That’s all?” “I can’t promise I’ll never make a mistake.” Kai looked down. “Fine.” Adrian stepped closer. “Neither can you.” Kai looked up. “I’m far more reasonable.” “Of course.” “You should sound more convinced.” “I wouldn’t want to lie.” Kai fought a smile. Adrian lifted his hand but stopped before touching him. Kai closed the distance and briefly held his wrist. It was an awkward gesture. Quick. Almost shy. But Adrian’s eyes changed. “Go,” Kai said. “Before I start charging you for parking.” Adrian’s fingers closed gently around his. “I’ll call.” “Adrian.” “Yes?” “Thank you.” Adrian looked at him for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Always.” Kai released him. He watched until the car disappeared into traffic. Only then did he realize how much he wanted to follow. ⸻ The first sign that something had gone wrong came at eleven sixteen. Kai was in the hospital corridor, speaking with the financial assistance officer, when his phone began vibrating repeatedly. Ethan. Then his mother. Then an unknown number. He answered Ethan first. “What?” “Have you seen the university notice?” Kai frowned. “What notice?” “They’ve released the updated practical schedule. Professor Miller moved your assessment to tomorrow morning.” Kai’s stomach dropped. “Tomorrow?” “Yes. And he said anyone who misses it will need to submit a formal explanation.” Kai closed his eyes. His father’s treatment. His work schedule. The assessment. Everything seemed to be closing in around him. “I’ll manage.” Ethan sighed. “You always say that.” “Because I usually do.” “That’s not the same as being okay.” Kai leaned against the wall. “I’ll call you later.” “Kai—” He ended the call. Immediately, his mother called. “Kai, the doctor needs to speak with you.” He straightened. “About Dad?” “Yes. They want to change one of his medications. They said the cost may be higher.” Kai stared at the hospital floor. His hand tightened around the phone. “How much higher?” His mother gave him the amount. He stopped breathing for a moment. It was more than they had expected. More than the current payment arrangement covered. “I’ll come,” he said. “Hurry.” The call ended. Kai remained still. His phone vibrated again. Adrian. He stared at the name. He had promised not to disappear into work. Adrian had promised to call. Kai answered. “Hello.” “I’m at the office,” Adrian said. His voice sounded tired. “How is your father?” “They need to change his medication.” “Is it urgent?” “Yes.” “Do you need me to come?” Kai shut his eyes. The answer was yes. He needed him. But he didn’t want to become the reason Adrian abandoned his own responsibilities. “I’ll handle it.” A silence followed. “Kai.” “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Don’t ask me again.” Adrian’s voice became quieter. “Why?” “Because if you ask again, I might say yes.” Kai regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Adrian didn’t speak for several seconds. Then he said, “You can say yes.” Kai’s eyes burned. “I know.” “Then say it if you need me.” Kai looked toward the consultation room. His mother stood near the door, waiting. His father’s health. The medication. The payment. The assessment tomorrow. He couldn’t breathe properly. “Adrian,” he whispered. “I’m here.” “I don’t know how to do this.” “I know.” “I need—” His voice broke. He stopped. Adrian didn’t rush him. He simply waited. Kai pressed his free hand against his chest. “I need you to come.” The words were barely audible. But Adrian heard them. “I’ll be there.” Kai swallowed. “You have work.” “I’ll be there.” “Don’t ruin your company because of me.” “I’m not.” “You don’t know that.” “I know what I’m choosing.” Kai closed his eyes. This time, he didn’t argue. ⸻ Adrian arrived twenty-eight minutes later. Kai was sitting outside the consultation room, his elbows resting on his knees. When he saw Adrian, he stood. “You came quickly.” “I left as soon as I could.” Kai glanced at his watch. “You shouldn’t have.” “Probably not.” Kai looked at him sharply. Adrian’s expression was calm, but there was tension beneath it. “The board rejected the revised proposal,” he said. Kai’s face changed. “What?” “They want to proceed with the alternative plan. It will protect short-term margins but put several long-term contracts at risk.” “And you left?” “I delegated the discussion.” “Adrian.” “I didn’t abandon it.” “But you left.” “Yes.” Kai shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come.” Adrian stepped closer. “Kai.” “Your company is in trouble.” “So is your family.” “You can’t keep choosing me every time something happens.” Adrian’s gaze held his. “I didn’t come because you were helpless.” “Then why?” “Because you asked.” Kai went silent. Adrian continued, “You told me you needed me. I came. That doesn’t mean I can’t return to work afterward.” Kai looked away, struggling to keep his emotions under control. “What if one day you have to choose?” “Then we’ll discuss it.” “And if you choose the company?” “Then I’ll tell you honestly.” Kai’s lips trembled. “And if I choose my family?” “Then I’ll understand.” Kai looked at him. “Even if it means I can’t give you much?” Adrian’s expression softened. “I’ve never asked you to give me everything.” The consultation room door opened. The doctor stepped out. “Mr. Anderson?” Kai turned immediately. “Yes?” “We need to discuss the medication change.” His fingers curled around Adrian’s hand. This time, he didn’t let go. ⸻ The medication was necessary. The cost was higher. The financial assistance application would need to be updated. Kai asked questions until the doctor answered every concern he could think of. He wrote down the dosage, possible side effects, and the estimated monthly cost. Adrian remained beside him, silent unless Kai asked him something. When they left the room, Kai looked at the papers in his hand. “I don’t know how we’re going to afford this.” Adrian didn’t immediately respond. Kai looked up. “Don’t offer to pay.” “I won’t.” “Even if you want to?” “Even if I want to.” Kai exhaled shakily. “Thank you.” Adrian glanced at the documents. “Would you like help reviewing the financial options?” Kai hesitated. Then nodded. “Yes.” The answer was quiet. But it was a choice. One Kai made himself. They sat together, going through the forms. Adrian helped him identify questions to ask the financial office, while Kai made the final decisions about what to submit and which arrangements to pursue. For the first time, accepting assistance didn’t feel like handing over control. It felt like allowing someone to hold one corner of the weight. ⸻ That evening, Kai received a message from his pharmacy supervisor. Supervisor: Your appeal request has been denied. The schedule reduction begins immediately. Kai read the message once. Then again. His face went blank. Adrian noticed. “What happened?” Kai handed him the phone. Adrian read the message. His expression hardened. “I’m sorry.” Kai gave a humorless laugh. “Don’t be. You didn’t cut my hours.” “No.” “I’ll find another job.” Adrian looked at him. “You already have school and your father’s treatment.” “I need the money.” “I know.” “Don’t tell me to rest.” “I wasn’t going to.” Kai turned toward him. Adrian continued, “But you shouldn’t have to solve this tonight.” Kai looked down at his phone. The practical assessment was tomorrow morning. His father’s medication needed to be collected. The pharmacy had reduced his hours. And Adrian’s company was still in crisis. For the first time, Kai understood that the problem wasn’t simply that he had too much to do. It was that he had been trying to survive as though he had no right to stop. He slowly leaned against Adrian’s shoulder. “I want to go home,” he said. “Then we’ll go.” “And tomorrow, I’ll speak to Professor Miller.” “Yes.” “And I’ll appeal the pharmacy decision again.” “Yes.” “And I’ll ask the hospital about every available assistance program.” “Yes.” Kai closed his eyes. “Don’t say yes to everything. It makes you sound like an obedient dog.” Adrian’s arm settled carefully around his shoulders. “Would you prefer a cat?” Kai laughed, tired and quiet. “No. Cats are arrogant.” “You like arrogant things.” Kai lifted his head. “Don’t push your luck.” Adrian looked down at him. For a moment, the hospital, the bills, the boardroom, and the fear all seemed to fall away. Then Kai’s phone vibrated. A new email. From the university administration. Subject: Notice of Academic Review Kai opened it. His eyes moved across the screen. His expression slowly changed. Adrian noticed immediately. “What is it?” Kai didn’t answer. He read the message again, his fingers growing cold. Then he whispered: “They’re reviewing my attendance.” Adrian’s gaze sharpened. Kai looked up, fear spreading across his face. “If I fail the review, I could lose my scholarship.”

The Things That Break