Pond stood in the middle of the apartment that he and Phuwin had once shared, the silence around him deafening. The place felt like a shell of what it had been—a hollow, lifeless space that echoed with memories of a life he had destroyed. The vibrant warmth that had once filled these rooms was gone, replaced by a cold emptiness that gnawed at him, reminding him of the consequences of his actions.
Phuwin was gone. The realization hit Pond every morning when he woke up alone in their bed, and every evening when he came home to an empty apartment. He would catch himself expecting to hear Phuwin's voice, to see him sitting on the couch reading or cooking dinner, but those moments never came. All that was left was the silence and the crushing weight of his guilt.
Pond had tried calling Phuwin repeatedly, desperate to apologize, to explain, to somehow undo the damage he had caused. But Phuwin hadn't answered, and each unanswered call felt like another nail in the coffin of their relationship. Pond knew he had lost him, knew that Phuwin's departure was a consequence of his own betrayal, but the finality of it was almost too much to bear.
In his more honest moments, Pond knew that he had been a coward. He had let himself get caught up in something he never should have started, allowing Dunk to fill the gaps that had formed in his relationship with Phuwin. Dunk had been a distraction, an escape, someone who made him feel wanted when he had been struggling to communicate with Phuwin. But it had been nothing more than a fleeting thrill, a selfish indulgence that had cost him everything.
As the days passed and the reality of his actions settled in, Pond found himself increasingly overwhelmed by guilt. He replayed every moment in his mind—the first time he had met Dunk, the lies he had told Phuwin, the nights he had spent with Dunk when he should have been with the man he claimed to love. The weight of his deceit bore down on him, and for the first time, he fully grasped the gravity of what he had done.
Pond had destroyed the most important thing in his life—his relationship with Phuwin. The man who had loved him unconditionally, who had supported him through everything, was now gone, and it was all his fault. The trust they had built over the years had been shattered, and no amount of apologies or regrets could piece it back together.
One evening, as Pond sat alone in the darkened apartment, he picked up his phone and stared at Dunk's name in his contacts. The affair had begun so innocently, with casual conversations that had quickly escalated into something more. At the time, it had felt exciting, a break from the monotony that had crept into his relationship with Phuwin. But now, with the clarity that only comes after the damage is done, Pond saw it for what it really was—a selfish, destructive mistake.
He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over Dunk's name. Dunk had been there for him, had made him feel wanted when he had felt lost, but Pond knew that continuing their relationship would only deepen the chasm of guilt that had already consumed him. He couldn't keep lying to himself, couldn't keep running from the truth.
With a deep breath, Pond pressed the call button. The phone rang a few times before Dunk answered, his voice light and casual, as if nothing had changed. But for Pond, everything had changed.
"Hey, Pond," Dunk said, his tone warm. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight. What's up?"
Pond swallowed hard, his throat dry as he tried to find the words. "Dunk, we need to talk."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Dunk's voice lost some of its warmth. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"No," Pond replied, his voice trembling slightly. "It's not. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep lying, and I can't keep pretending that what we're doing is okay. It's not."
Another pause, longer this time. When Dunk finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more serious. "Pond, I never wanted to cause any problems between you and Phuwin. I thought... I thought we were just having fun."
"Fun?" The word felt like a slap to Pond's face, a stark reminder of how far he had fallen. "Dunk, this isn't just fun. I've destroyed my relationship, hurt the person I loved most in the world, all because of a stupid, selfish affair. I can't do it anymore. I need to end this."
Dunk sighed on the other end of the line, and Pond could hear the resignation in his voice. "I get it," Dunk said softly. "I never wanted things to get this complicated. If you need to end it, I understand."
Pond closed his eyes, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I'm sorry, Dunk. I should have ended this a long time ago. I should never have let it start."
Dunk didn't respond right away, but when he did, there was a hint of sadness in his voice. "Take care of yourself, Pond. I hope... I hope you can find a way to fix things with Phuwin."
Pond hung up the phone, his heart heavy with the finality of it all. The affair was over, but the damage it had caused was irreversible. The guilt that had consumed him from the moment he saw the devastation in Phuwin's eyes only intensified, and Pond realized that he was left with nothing but the wreckage of the life he had once valued so deeply.
As the days turned into weeks, Pond found himself trapped in a cycle of regret and self-loathing. He had lost Phuwin, the one person who had truly loved him, and now he was left alone, haunted by the choices that had led to his downfall. Every corner of the apartment reminded him of what he had destroyed—the photos of happier times, the empty side of the bed where Phuwin had once slept, the echo of his laughter that would never fill the rooms again.
Pond's guilt consumed him, gnawing at him day and night. He couldn't escape it, couldn't run from the reality that he had thrown away the best thing in his life for something that had meant nothing in the end. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow, and as much as he wanted to turn back time, to undo the mistakes he had made, he knew it was too late.
Phuwin was gone, and Pond was left to face the consequences of his actions alone. The love that had once been the center of his world was now a distant memory, a casualty of his own selfishness. And as Pond sat in the darkened apartment, surrounded by the remnants of a life he had destroyed, he understood that he had no one to blame but himself.