The System Keeps Making Me Do Indecent Missions [BL, R18]

Chapter 122: Chapter 122: The Belated Confession

Dominic Vance did not answer immediately. He sat there, in the dark corner of the familiar tavern, among his closest friends, and felt as if the whole world was collapsing around him.

"I understand." He said, his voice hoarse and broken. "I understand now."

He looked up, his empty gaze staring into the void before him. His fingers still tightly gripped the wine glass, but his voice was no longer trembling. It was even, slow, like a confession uttered from the very bottom of his heart.

"I loved him, I am not sure since when, but by the time I looked back, the feelings were already profound. It was just that I refused to admit it. I told myself that Lucien was merely a tool. I told myself that he was just a responsibility. I told myself that a man like me did not need love, did not need anyone. But I was wrong, I was wrong from the very beginning."

He paused, taking a deep breath. The entire table was dead silent. Even Alex, a man who could never keep quiet for more than three minutes, did not utter a single word.

"I remember the first time Lucien stepped into my room. In black silk pajamas, his eyes sparkling, his tiny voice asking if he could stay the night. At that moment, I knew Lucien was different. But I did not dare to admit it. I was afraid. Afraid that if I admitted it, I would become weak. Afraid that if I loved someone, I would have a weakness. And a weakness for the Vance family was something that was never allowed to exist."

"And so I deceived myself. I told myself that I only needed Lucien’s body. I said that the breakfasts he cooked, the random words he whispered, the tight embraces in the middle of the night, all of it meant nothing. I said that I did not love him."

"But I did."

His voice broke.

"I loved the way he narrowed his eyes and smiled every morning, when bringing breakfast to the table. I loved his thin, bony fingers, trembling as they undid every button of my shirt. I loved his frail voice, always saying ’I like it, I love you’. I loved even the times he burned the eggs, made the soup too salty, and then apologized profusely as if it were some cardinal sin."

"I loved him. But I did not say it out loud. I let Lucien live his final days without knowing that, to me, he was everything."

He bowed his head. His shoulders shook, but there were no tears. Perhaps the tears had dried up long ago.

"The letter I found today... it was exactly like the previous ones. Lucien wrote that he hoped one day he could call me his husband. That he hoped by the time I read it, we would still be together."

He let out a dry, bitter laugh.

"Isn’t it ridiculous? He hoped we would still be together. As for me, I let Lucien die. I let him die in my arms, without even being able to say a word of love in time."

"On that final night, I asked him if he had any regrets. He said no. He said he had never regretted anything, and would never regret anything. But I do. I regret that I did not say I loved Lucien. I regret that I made him wait. I regret that I lived thirty-two years in this world without knowing what it was like to love, only to find out when the person I loved was already gone."

He stopped, and the entire tavern seemed to sink into absolute silence. Even the background music seemed to vanish.

"I do not know what to do now." He whispered. "I have lived the past few months like a soulless corpse. I kept Lucien’s room exactly as it was. I placed his portrait in the ancestral shrine. I read those letters over and over again, like a madman, as if reading them more would bring him back to life. But he will not come back to life. Never again."

Chris was the first to break the silence. He stood up, walked around the table, and placed his hand on Dominic Vance’s shoulder.

"You have said it. Even if it is late, you have said it out loud."

"What is the use of saying it? It is not like he can hear it."

"But you have admitted it. To yourself, that is the first step."

Dominic Vance shook his head. He pushed the wine glass away and stood up. He did not want to hear empty words of comfort. He did not deserve to be comforted.

"I am heading back."

He turned his back and walked away. But before he could step out the door, Chris called out after him:

"If you truly loved Lucien, then live, for his sake as well. Do not let him look down from heaven and be disappointed."

Dominic Vance paused for a second. Then he continued walking, the door closing behind his back.

...

He did not go home immediately but drove around the city, through deserted streets in the nocturnal rain. Eventually, he stopped before the cemetery gates, a place he had not set foot in for many months. He did not dare to. But tonight was different.

Lucien’s grave lay in a quiet corner, beneath the canopy of an ancient tree. On the stone headstone, his photograph still smiled as brightly as ever. The curved eyes, the radiant smile. He looked as if he was smiling at Dominic.

Dominic Vance stood there, letting the rain soak through his shoulders. He brought no umbrella. He brought no flowers. He only brought the second letter he had found this afternoon.

"I am here."

He knelt before the grave, placing the letter on the headstone. The rain fell onto the paper, blurring the words that had long been blurred. But he did not care. He had memorized every single word.

"I found your letter. You wrote so many letters, yet I only managed to find two. There must be many more, right? I will find them, I will find them all. And then I will read all of them, no matter how long it takes."

He stopped, his voice choking up.

"I am sorry. Sorry for not saying it when you were alive. Sorry for making you wait. Sorry for not letting you know that, to me, you were everything."

"I love you, Lucien."

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

He repeated it over and over, like a prayer, like a hymn of repentance. Rainwater mingled with tears, streaming down his cheeks.

"Can you hear me? I love you. Even if it is too late, even if it is meaningless, I still have to say it. Because you deserve to hear it. You deserve to know that your love was never one-sided. You never loved a heartless man. It was just that this man was too foolish, too cowardly, only daring to admit it after losing you."

He leaned down, his forehead touching the cold headstone.

"If there is an afterlife, I will find you. I will say I love you from the very first moment we meet. I will not make you wait a single second longer. I promise you."

The rain kept falling. The wind kept blowing. But in that fleeting moment, Dominic Vance felt as though a small, warm hand was gently resting on his shoulder.

He looked up. There was no one there. There was only the darkness, the falling rain, and Lucien’s photograph on the headstone, still smiling at Dominic, as gentle as ever.

He stood up, wiped his face, and walked away. But this time, his footsteps were much steadier.

...

Many years later.

Dominic Vance never remarried. He also never had anyone else. He continued to live in that villa, with Lucien’s room preserved completely untouched. Occasionally, on chilly mornings, he would still go into the kitchen, fry an egg himself, leave the heat high so the edges burned, sprinkle a bit too much salt, and then eat it alone.

He no longer drank as much as before. He returned to work, running the Vance family empire with his inherent sharpness and coldness. But those close to him all noticed a change in his eyes. A quiet, gentle sorrow, like a scar that had healed but would never truly fade away.

Once a week, he visited Lucien’s grave. He brought along a letter, not a letter from the boy, but a letter he wrote for Lucien. Awkward confessions, belated words of love, stories about life that he wanted to tell him. He placed the letter on the grave and then burned it, as a way of sending them to the other side.

He did not know if Lucien received them. But he kept doing it without ever changing.

Year after year.

It was just a pity that no one would ever answer him again.

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