Ephemeral Peace and Quiet

The clock striking midnight meant Wes's birthday was over, and there's no reason to wake Mia up anymore.

As he kneeled on the floor, he stroked her cheek gently with his fingers, but then winced at how cold she was. That did it. Without sparing another second, he carefully slid his hands around her and scooped her in his arms.

She shifted a bit before leaning into him. The trust in that small movement broke him more. He pressed a kiss on her head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though she couldn’t hear it. ‘How many times have I already said that to her?’

Inside, the decorations she’d set up lingered in the corners—balloons, confetti, banners. Each step towards her bedroom felt heavier than the last. Every creak of the floor sent his thoughts back to where he’d been instead of here.

Secrets had weight, he realized—not just on him, but on those who waited all night because of them.

He laid her down on the bed and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. As he stood there watching her sleep, he engraved the calm on her face in his mind—the calm he knew he’s slowly disturbing without her realizing it. She deserved someone honest and who showed up on time.

With dread, Wes took out his phone to find the screen flashing Jenny's messages at him: ‘Are you serious? She prepared everything for DAYS. When we went to tell her, she refused to listen and kept saying you’d be there soon. We tried calling you.’

His jaw tightened. Before he could read the rest, a call from home came in with several notifications. Once the vibration stopped, he checked the other missed calls that had stacked up.

‘This can't go on.’

He turned off the screen. Instead of calling or messaging back, he set the phone down on the dresser. It wasn't necessary. Right here and now, he had all that he wanted and needed.

Wes turned back to the bed and settled under the covers beside Mia.

She stirred slightly, then relaxed when he enveloped her small body in a warm embrace. Her head fit against his chest like that's where she’s meant to be all along. He tightened his hold around her, his eyes fluttering closed and nose nuzzling into her hair.

The world faded, leaving only her quiet presence—the steady proof of what he was protecting yet also putting at risk. Tomorrow would come with consequences, would demand answers to questions he had long avoided.

But tonight, Wes chose to stay with Mia in this ephemeral peace and quiet.

---

Mia woke up to the smell of eggs, toast, and coffee—an atypical morning for someone living alone.

The bed was soft beneath her, the blanket tucked around her shoulders. This wasn’t how she remembered falling asleep. The last she'd been was at the door, her phone screen dimming as her hope did.

“Oh, no… Wes!”

And his birthday.

She bolted out of the bed and into the kitchen, hair still messy, heart racing ahead. There he was at the stove with his sleeves pushed up, cooking breakfast like this was any other day. He turned his head around, then smiled his usual loving smile.

“Good morning, princess.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she blurted out hastily, the words tumbling over as she stepped closer. “I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to. I was waiting, and I had everything planned, and I... I-I’m so sorry I missed your birthday.”

“Don't apologize, please. It's all my fault.”

Wes turned off the stove, then took her hands that had been flailing wildly in the air. Once the frantic motion stopped, he squeezed them tenderly and lifted them to his lips. The gesture caught her off guard, but she quietly accepted it, her eyes softening.

“I’m very sorry for making you wait,” he said with his head still low, his voice roughened by shame and remorse. “It will never happen again, I promise. If you're upset, I’ll take it and do anything you want. Just tell me how I can make it up to you.”

“I'm alright, Wes,” she breathed out, frowning as she saw how his gaze darkened with what seemed to be guilt and regret. “P-Please don't feel too bad. All I wish is to celebrate your birthday with you. Can we...still do that?”

Coincidentally, the chocolate cake had been unboxed and was sitting on the counter.

She grinned at it before flipping her hands in his so she was grabbing them. That made him look up to her, then to the cake. Her chest bubbled with a mix of excitement and nervousness as she tugged him towards it.

“Well? Try it!”

Wes stared for a moment before laughing, “Only if you eat it with me.”

He appeared to want to say more, but he smiled instead and did as told. They moved to the couch, plates balanced carefully. He sat first, and to her surprise, he reached out to pull her onto his lap.

“Wes!” she giggled, half-embarrassed and half-amused.

He smirked, unrepentant. “What? It’s my birthday.”

She shook her head, giggling again despite herself. With one hand around her waist and the other holding a fork, he sliced a piece which he then offered to her. She pouted in protest, but he insisted, and she had no choice but to take the first bite.

“Mhm! It turned out better than expected!”

“My princess can do anything, after all.”

“T-That's not true… Eek!” He'd given her a quick peck on the cheek, making her blush hard.

He chuckled at her reaction, his face aglow with joy and endearment, and he took a bite too. His eyes closed in bliss, then he rested his chin on her shoulder, all while she watched him. Truthfully, the sweetness of the cake was incomparable to the warmth of sharing this moment with him.

“Thank you for everything, Mia,” he said with an expression brimming with affection. "Can I ask for another favor?"

"Sure!"

"Let’s go out.”

“Out? Where?”

“You’ll see.”

An hour later, Mia found herself sitting stiffly in the passenger seat of a sleek, shiny limousine.

It was not the same car she'd ridden before, and instead of Caleb, another man was driving. There's more space here, with TV screens, beverage holders, a mini bar, and even a tinted window that served as a partition—a most exquisite setup. Though being there was unnerving, she managed to remain calm with Wes beside her.

When she asked why they're there and where they're headed, he placed his arm around her waist and pressed her closer against him, as if he's afraid she'd run away once he answered, “There’ll be a lot of people, but don't worry. I'm with you.”

He didn't give any other explanation, only caressing her side or her hand in comfort for the rest of the ride.

Soon, Mia was stepping out of the vehicle to come face-to-face with huge screens and billboards stacked high above a crossroad full of people—the city’s square. She shrank to herself, feeling swallowed by light and motion, then slipped her quivering hand into his without thinking. Her stomach lurched from overstimulation, but she forced herself to look up to Wes, who now donned a pair of shades and a mask.

“W-Wes, this is…”

Suddenly, all the screens blacked out for a second before flaring back to life.

The crowd's attention sharpened, as though the streets themselves were spectating. Images came first, then a sound that rolled inside her chest. A movie teaser played, and a voice proclaimed, “Empyrean Eclipse—showing this fall…”

Her heart stuttered for a few beats, as did her breath. Eager chatters spread around her, and phones lifted upward to record, but they went unnoticed by her. She could all but gape in utter shock, unable to look away.

Wes was on the screens.

Not the Wes who showered her with kisses and hugs every chance he got. Not the Wes who wore his heart on his sleeve. Not the Wes who liked to tease her and apologize right after with sweet-nothings.

That man stood framed in light and shadow, carved into something of power, of splendor, of greatness—something untouchable.