Chapter 127 127: Loosing Him Again
Saint hissed as he rolled off his large bed.
Cam had really done a number on him.
He could barely see a thing through his swollen lids.
He raised his arms above his head and stretched.
"Fuck," he palmed his neck, "he got my neck, too."
He sighed and walked into his bathroom.
A few minutes later, he walked out, throwing his black tank top on.
It was a Saturday morning and he had only one goal in mind.
He was about to reach for his shoes when his phone suddenly buzzed on the table.
He paused, glancing over at it.
Kora.
He took a deep breath and marched over to it.
He knew what she wanted.
A date.
It was impossible, he was in no state to go on dates.
"Morning, sweetheart," Saint tried to make his voice as lively as possible.
He listened to Kora's usual morning sweet words, tapping his foot slowly.
Then came the request.
"Saint, grandma is hosting her monthly garden party, would you be a sweetheart and be my date?" Her soft voice spoke from the phone.
Saint lifted his face and stared at himself in the mirror.
"I'm always your date, Kora. But I really can't step out today—"
"Why? Are you okay? Do you need me to come?" Kora sounded worried.
"No, no..." Saint pushed his fingers through his hair, "I'm fine. I just have this serious meeting with the board... I'll definitely be your date next month." He hurried to explain.
If Kora ever learnt that he was beaten because he went to look for Baby, she'd be devastated... angry.
Kora sighed, "Fine, babe. I'll be heading out of the country tomorrow... dad wants me to model in some ads, I'll be back in a week. Be good, I love you." She said.
"Love you, too," Saint murmured.
Kora made a kissing sound before ending the call.
Saint stood there for a while, staring at himself in the mirror.
Where was Baby this morning?
What was Baby doing?
Who was he with?
Oliver?
He was frustrated.
He couldn't battle against amnesia, he'd look crazy and stupid.
He wished Baby still had his memories, at least, he would recall that amid the breakup message he sent, he did mention to always keep loving Baby.
He never stopped loving him.
Couldn't.
But he just chose the easier way... like the coward he was.
"Shit!" His phone almost fell off his hand as his door suddenly yanked open.
"What the fuck, Cassian?" He glared at the shirtless man standing in his doorway.
Cassian smiled, raking his eyes over Saint.
"You almost don't look bad, baby cousin. Let's go," Cassian said and turned away.
Saint frowned, "Go where?" Saint questioned, grabbing his shoes.
"Gym, of course," Cassian scoffed.
Saint paused in his doorway, chuckling.
"You must have been joking, right? Have you seen me?" Saint pointed at his face.
Cassian pulled his white tank top over his head and turned to Saint, "Now we're twinning. Come on." He went and grabbed Saint's wrist.
"Cassian!" Saint snapped, glaring at his cousin.
"Oh? You're really angry?" Cassian asked, unable to hide his smirk.
"You think this is funny?" Saint glared.
"Um, that you chose a girl when you are clearly in love with a boy? Yeah, man. Totally funny," Cassian replied, shrugging.
Saint gritted his teeth, "That's not your business to mention—"
"Yeah... wrong. It is," Cassian folded his arms and looked at Saint squarely.
"You do realise I left my company in another country to come find you just because your mother thinks I'm the only one you open up to? So, yeah... it's damn well my business," Cassian stated, frowning.
Saint scoffed, "Go back, man. I don't need a babysitter—"
"You don't, but you got one anyway. Now, Mr. Player, move your fucking legs and go with me to the gym, and before you talk about how unfit you are to step out... it's the best time to hit the weights, burns the pain away..." Cassian turned, moving to the door.
"I hear THC's Echelon has the finest equipment for the finest players, let's go put that to the test, baby cousin," he said and pulled the door open.
"Motherfucker," Saint muttered and followed Cassian out.
The moment he stepped out, Cassian chuckled, shaking his head, "Lifting weights with shades on... any more tips to be so cool?"
Saint shrugged past him and scanned his card on the elevator.
Only residents could use the elevator.
"Don't do too much," Saint murmured, pulling a cigarette out from his pocket.
"You're welcome," Cassian said, lighting Saint's cigarette.
Saint ignored him and took a puff.
"Look alive, cousin. Who knows... you might charm his brain into remembering who you are." Cassian said, taking the cigarette from Saint to take a drag.
Saint laughed.
A bitter sound.
"Are you mocking me?"
"Yeah, I was," Cassian replied, returning the cigarette to Saint.
Saint nodded, "You know it's better this way. He'd hate me if he ever remembered. He even smiles at me now—"
"A hollow smile, cousin," Cassian clarified, "You're really torturing yourself. Should have just gone ahead with what you two agreed on... thought you were smarter, Saint." He said, walking out into the large gym as the elevator opened.
"Not as smart as you thought..." Saint muttered and followed Cassian behind.
The moment he stepped into the large gym—
He froze.
His heart tightened—slow, painful, deliberate.
Not from excitement.
Not even from longing.
But from the quiet, suffocating realization that the man in front of him…
was still his—
just not his anymore.
Baby had his earphones plugged in, running steadily on a treadmill, his back to Saint.
"See? You should thank me for dragging your ass out," Cassian appeared in front of him, smirking.
"Well, seeing you're never getting your chance with him, I'mma go try my luck. Watch and learn how a real man wins a heart," Cassian grinned.
"Cassian..." Saint grabbed his cousin's hand, glaring at him, "Don't mess with him—"
"What? Like you did?" Cassian jabbed, "You know I'm a lover boy. I don't mess around, I own. Now..." he drew his hand from Saint's hold, "Watch me own your baby." He winked and walked away.
"Damn it," Saint muttered and slowly followed Cassian behind.
He wanted to drag Baby out of there, away from Cassian.
Why did every instinct in him scream that Baby was still his?
But he couldn't... one can't simply turn possessive over a stranger, right?
Or,
Could he?