Hello, Láquesis writing in: This work doesn't have a happy ending, inspired by Queen's 'Love of My Life'. Happy reading! — L

His computer screen turned black for the third time in a row now, and even if he typed a random letter and brought it alight, he couldn’t get himself to start working.

He needed to finish his research, he needed to find several files by the end of the day, he needed to contact so many people. He needed to do so much, really, so much.

But he couldn’t move a lot, well, he could, but he didn’t have the strength nor the will to do it.

He shouldn’t have said anything last night, shouldn’t have talked to his friends about it, shouldn’t have commented on the issue at all. It was eating him alive, sure, but… this… this was so wrong and so far-fetched and just incomprehensible.

“Have you considered… divorcing him?”

It echoed in his mind, the concern laced to every word Ariana had said, looking at him as if she was trying to get him to understand something, but he wasn’t getting it.

Divorcing? Divorcing Gael?

The screen’s search bar glowed ahead of him, mocking him in his quest to find a solution, an answer to a problem he didn’t know— no, he did know— he didn’t want to accept. It’s blinking bar counting each second, asking him if he would ever make up his mind about it, just like Joel and Ariana had the night before.

Julian may have had a few drinks on him, maybe he was too tired, maybe (see: definitively) he was sick of encapsulating such dreadful life he had and had finally spilled it all over with the only two people he could ever trust with something like this.

He didn’t love Gael any more.

Perhaps, no. No, perhaps that wasn’t the truth entirely, because if he didn’t love Gael, it wouldn’t have hurt so much to admit everything the night before. But then again, maybe it hurt like a gaping wound would, maybe it was the knowledge of being wronged by the person you loved the most for so long. Maybe he didn’t love Gael any more, maybe he wasn’t mourning their relationship, but the toll it had taken on Julian.

They had been married for three years now, and had been dating for about five. Julian doesn’t even remember how his life without Gael was, doesn’t want to, really, because he knows it’s not going to do his current state any good.

When they started dating, Julian was the happiest man on earth.

When they got married, Julian swore to any deity that might take him that he would love, respect and protect Gael until his last breath and beyond if he could help it.

He had looked at that man and saw golden, beautiful memories. He saw him, saw his raw edges, saw his past and his present and decided that he wanted to be in his future. Gael didn’t have to go through life alone if they could live life together, if Julian could hold Gael’s hand then life would be worth living, life would have a tomorrow, a purpose.

Julian saw Gael, held his face gently between his hands, and swore he had never had a most perfect view.

So why, after all this time, why was he spluttering nonsense and getting his best friends to suggest divorcing someone who had been the love of his life?

Well, he knew the answer, most definitively.

When Gael and him started, when their book had first begun, marking the first pages with childish banter and pranks and an endless game of tag, Julian hadn’t seen this coming at all.

He remembers falling in love with Gael, he remembers Gael by the gate of his school, lunch bag in hand and smile on his face, waving at him so they could eat together somewhere. He recalls Gael cleaning his wounds when an afternoon of skateboarding lead Julian straight into a hot dog cart.

His clothes smelled of ketchup, reused oil and processed meat.

Gael smelled like lavender and sea breeze, and his breath was cool against his throbbing wounds when Julian hissed over the alcohol.

In his memories he sees Gael warm hued and bright-eyed, always asking for his company, always searching for his opinion, always looking right through him, always making him feel seen.

There was Gael, holding his hand out for him so they could run under the heavy rain when the bus was nowhere to be found and the sky didn’t seem to be clearing any time soon. There was Gael, spinning him around, even despite his small stature, and beckoning him to dance to a stupid song in the middle of the street.

Gael, and his legs that were too long but his body that was too short. With his red curls hanging over his head and framing his duo-toned face beautifully, honey and milk mixing each other into a gorgeous man.

Gael, and his big round eyes that looked at everything and everyone, and were a direct window to his mind and heart, his greyish irises looking like liquid moonlight whenever Julian gazed at them, completely enamoured with them, and butterflies in his stomach when they softened over time when Gael looked at him, as if Julian was precious, as if Julian was this sacred being that Gael wanted nothing but to be devoted to.

Gael, and his crooked hands, clasping Julians trembling ones and telling him he loved him.

Gael, who used to get him weird snacks, only to see how Julian reacted to their unique taste.

Gael, and his laugh that bubbled warmth into Julians heart and made him grin like a total lovesick idiot.

Gael, Gael, Gael.

How did it all become so tainted? So heartless? So hollow?

Julian doesn’t even know how to describe it.

The first few years of his marriage had been fine, and Julian had assumed it would be just like when they were dating, but with a paper to back them up, to declare to the whole world watching that he was Gael’s, and this man owned his heart and guarded it with respect and wisdom and care.

Issues arose, of course, as they do in any relationship. But these issues… they weren’t…

How can he begin to describe it? They were there, and suddenly, they were not.

Issues like letting Julian know when Gael was going to come home late, or when they had a big appointment, or when Gael went to the doctor or when he needed to go see a family member. Issues like asking Julian for help, not because he was incapable, but because he wanted his company. Issues like treating Julian to his favourite café every once in a while just because he wanted to surprise him. Issues like telling Julian how he felt, what he needed from him, what he wanted from him.

Issues like reaching out to hold his hand when they were driving.

Issues like kissing his cheek when Gael was running late.

Issues like saying “I love you”.

Julian didn’t know what sparked the slow descend to a stop to nay of these, but it happened. He didn’t even notice it at first, and he assumed it must’ve been due to complicated schedules and lack of time for much in their lives. Both of their jobs were physically, emotionally and mentally taxing, but it had been so long since Gael had come home and asked Julian for a hug on hard days that Julian didn’t even know how to ask what happened, what had gone wrong.

Gael wasn’t one to hold back from honesty when it came to their relationship, and even before they were married he had introduced the world of flowed communication to Julian, making it so easy to navigate their relationship and always make sure they were attuned to each other.

Julian always wondered what he did wrong, when did fights became a thing, when did apologize became uncharted territory, when did talking become a thing of the past and when did Gael started to lose interest in him.

He likes to think it was all gradual, that he can’t exactly pinpoint the moment in which he realized Gael was losing interest in him, that he can’t tell what went wrong when they had all the tools to help them keep their marriage going, and their wills set into making sure the other was listened and loved. But then, he’d be lying.

There were a few instances he can recall from the top of his head.

Specific moments in which he should’ve known something wasn’t working how it used to, that they had started to play different notes to the tune of their relationship.

One of those was a while back, around a year or so. Julian was so tired from work he hadn’t cleaned after himself in the kitchen, and he thought it would be fine as long as he explained, it was usually fine. But Gael had got particularly worked up about it, as if Julian had done this regularly, periodically leaving everything for him to clean up.

Julian didn’t understand.

Sometimes Gael came home and left his backpack on the sofa, sometimes Julian woke up late and couldn’t leave things in their place, sometimes Gael forgot to pick the laundry, sometimes Julian forgot to do the laundry.

They were both human, but they were both a team, and sometimes things weren’t going to run smoothly, sometimes chores were forgotten or postponed, sometimes agreements were left for later because work and exhaustion caught to them first. They weren’t going to be perfect, but they were both trying. At least, Julian wanted to believe he was trying, because that’s how things worked, right? They were living together, they were living together, and it had to come with good and bad sides to it, and they were both willing to put the effort on it.

Keyword, were.

Because now if Julian leaves one plate alone for the night, Gael thinks he’s slacking, thinks he’s not trying, thinks he’s not tired and sick of a day of running in and out of offices and archives and interviews and research and existing. Because Gael suddenly thinks he doesn’t care any more.

It wasn’t true, of course it wasn’t, and Julian had spent weeks trying to repent and make up for a slip up even if he couldn’t really have helped it.

Gael started acting odd, not right away, but slowly, and surely. Things that were as easy as breathing and as common as clouds on a spring day were slipping through Julian’s fingers. He had apologized, he had tried talking to Gael, but the man kept on insisting there was nothing wrong, only for Julian to tardily realize his husband wasn’t using any sweet nicknames as often, or at all, after that.

A few months ago, he had come home from work only to find his living room packed with some of Gael’s friends. They were loud, the music was loud, the ambience was too chaotic and everything hit him like a tidal wave, crashing him the moment the front door was closed shut behind him.

Gael hadn’t even asked him if it was okay, if they had time to invite people over, if they didn’t have plans. Gael hadn’t asked if it was okay to invite people to their space, to keep them at their house, hadn’t even told him anything at all. Julian had arrived, and they were all there sprawled over the sofas.

It all overwhelmed him terribly, and dread crawled up his spine as he saw Gael sitting among all of these people and not even paying him any attention. Like he wasn’t even there.

He left shortly after, with the same things he had on himself the moment he had stepped into their flat.

He drove himself out into the city, going nowhere in particular.

Street lights and calm city night-life greeted him everywhere he went, and his mind betrayed him by driving him near familiar places he had ingrained in the most beautiful memories buried in his mind.

The bus stop Gael and him used to take to get to this particular restaurant which the owner of was so fond of them. The convenience store where they used to go to get their late night snacks when none of them could sleep. Gael’s favourite tea place, where he had accidentally knocked over Julians cup and stained his white jumper with blueberry and chamomile tea, Julian was charmed by his frantic antics trying to clean it up.

He came across the first museum they had visited together for a date. The convenience store where they brought ice cream and cheap champagne to make floating drinks with alcohol back at their flat after Gael had graduated. He even drove by, to Julian’s demise, the beach, a place they hadn’t gone together in so long even if it was always a widely known fact they had to have beach dates at golden hour during summer and spring. It hadn’t been a thing for about two years now.

When coming to an intersection and halting for the red light, a couple crossed the street, passing in front of his car with wide smiles and contagious laughter. The taller girl was looking at the smaller one with such fondness it made Julian’s insides churn, and the smaller girl was circling around her, mouthing something about flowers and food and candles and giggling at the fake scoff the taller girl let out.

He couldn’t tear his eyes off them at all. Cars were honking behind him, but it took him a minute to recollect himself to be able to keep going.

When he came home that night, the apartment was clean, thankfully.

When he entered the bedroom, Gael wasn’t facing him, he laid on the bed, curled on his side.

He wasn’t asleep, Julian knew that much, but neither did he make any sort of sound or movement to pretend he had been woken up. They laid in silence for a long while before Julian started drifting off to sleep.

Normally, he reached out for Gael, or even scooted closer to him, anything to be closer to him, and Gael always opened his arms or offered his hand, or feet, so they could stretch as much as they want but still feel connected in a way.

Now, he didn’t know if Gael would want him to.

A few months ago, around six more or less, Julian passed by a flower stand, and beautiful lilies were on display. Lilies were Gael’s birth flower, and his favourite flower, really. Julian used to get him flowers regularly, tried to get him special small bouquets, so Gael could take them to his office and put them in a small vase (that Julian had also gifted him, for this specifically, so Gael could see the flowers and remember him).

Now, he wasn’t sure if Gael would want them.

He had stopped ever since Gael hadn’t taken the flowers with him once, he had put them in a vase on Gael’s night stand, and one day he realized they had wilted. Gael usually pressed one of the flowers inside any book he might’ve been reading at the moment, and discarded the rest with a heavy heart.

The bouquet was complete when Julian threw it away.

So he stared at those lilies, beautiful and fresh, not knowing what to do.

The vendor caught him, and somehow managed to convince him to take a small bouquet home with him. Every step of the way, his heart sank deeper into his stomach, and cold bloomed in his sternum as he reached home. His hands nearly dropped his keys when he pulled them out, and he had a hard time inserting them into the keyhole with how nervousness clung onto his every move.

Eventually, he entered and found Gael sitting in the balcony, book in hand.

As silent as he could, Julian grabbed a vase and placed the flowers inside, filling it with water shortly after.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Gael spoke behind him.

“I didn’t hear you come in” His voice sounded calm, and Julian gently let out a breath he definitively was holding.

“Sorry, I was trying not to disturb you” He smiled at him, and grey eyes met him, he wanted to try and lean in for a short peck on the cheek, but they hadn’t done that a lot during that time, so he went back to the flowers.

“What did you bring?”

“Oh, just flowers” He commented, trying not to sound tense or anxious.

He turned towards Gael completely, vase in hand and a shy curve on his lips. Gael was wearing his house clothes, and the book he had in hand was a gift from Julian from a few years ago, and his hair was slightly messy, and he had his glasses on, and Julian’s heart skipped a small beat at how cosy and warm and pretty his husband looked.

He wanted to say it, but lately his compliments came out constricted, or off, or in the wrong way. Sometimes they were met with light chuckles, or a simple huff. Sometimes, silence. So he held it back.

When was the last time Gael had complimented him?

He couldn’t recall.

“Lilies?” Gael asked, stepping forward to look at them closely. Julian fought the urge to take a step back.

“Just a few of them” His fingers touched the petals with delicacy, and Gael made a motion to reach out and seemingly do the same, only for his hand to fall back to his side.

Something inside of Julian broke a little.

“What for?”

“Uh, you”

Silence filled the room as Gael’s eyes shot up to his, his eyebrows furrowed and a small smile on his lips. Julian heard the rejection before the man even said it.

“But they’re a bit inconvenient, aren’t they? I mean it's a hassle to keep them really” He set it so simply, so lightly, like he hadn’t just plunge Julian deeper into a spiral he was already trying so hard to get out of.

He blinked once, twice.

With a schooled expression, his grip on the small vase tightened ever so slightly. He looked between Gael’s eyes for a second, searching for the punchline of the joke, for a silly quip from the man to let him know he was joking, but nothing came.

“Well, for me, then”

“You don’t even like lilies” Gael replied, even more confused.

Julian bit the inside of his cheek as he turned away, and held the flowers with care as he moved towards his studio down in the hallway. He should’ve known better, really.

“I love lilies” He spoke, looking at the flowers, at the floor, at anything but Gael, really. Then, he took a small breath before walking into the hallway, “Very much, actually”


“I’ll be in my studio, I need to catch up with work” His tone came light and calm, passive in comparison to how he broke to a million pieces inside.

So, months later, here he was.

He must’ve done something horribly wrong for Gael to turn him away at every turn, every single chance he got. Julian didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he had been happy, he had been so happy with Gael, they had worked together and fought together and smiled and laughed and cried together until one day he realized it had all… just, stopped.

Every time he tried to fix it, make it better, it only seemed to get worse.

Maybe he still loved Gael, adored him and the memories they had together. But perhaps… Gael had begun to grow tired of Julian, perhaps he wasn’t what Gael was expecting to be when they married. Perhaps Gael didn’t know how to let him know it wasn’t working, perhaps it was all just a big misunderstanding. He didn’t know what to do.

His screen had turned black again, and even if it was still morning, he felt so exhausted he just wanted to go home. But now that he thought about it… he didn’t want to be home at all.

Instead, he made a call.

Ariana answered from the other end of the line, the sound of her workshop in motion could be heard against the speaker.

“Julián? Why you calling so early, what’s wrong?” He could hear Joel whispering beside her, probably beckoning him to let him hear.

“I’ll do it”

Silence ensued. His life was filled with a lot of deafening silences, recently. After a short breath, Joel came in.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll call a lawyer beforehand, but I’ll talk to Gael tomorrow or the day after it, just to be sure I find a place when he signs—”

“Julian— okay hold on a second, are you sure?”

“Yes, I am”

“Why don’t you talk to him about it first?”

“He hasn’t sat and listened to any concern I’ve had about our marriage for over a year, Ari, I think having an outing to the entire situation will make him listen.”

“The entire situation is your literal marriage, Julian”

He stayed silent for a few more seconds, and considered Joel’s words for a moment before his brain just shoved everything into a mental bin and forced him to ignore how hurt he felt when he spoke next.

“It’s just a paper for Gael, won’t be cheap, but hopefully things will go smoothly”


“Ari, Joel, I need to make a call, but thanks for listening to me anyway”


“I’ll let you both know how things are going tomorrow”

With that, he hung up, only to dial a new number a few seconds later. Waiting for his lawyer to pick up, he pushed himself away from the table and turned sideways on his chair, trying to calm the shaking of his legs and hands and just his entire body in general. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to distract himself from spiralling, again.

When the other line picked up, he didn’t waste more time.

“I’d like to divorce my husband, can we schedule a meeting for today?”

A loud enough bang echoed inside his office as soon as he finished his sentence, earning most of his attention to the origin of the ruckus, only to find Gael at the door, hand still in the doorknob and expression unreadable with how still and pale he was. His other hand was in an odd position, as if he had been holding— oh.

A small vase laid cracked on the ground, and from it, forget-me-nots and water poured over the floor like a crime scene. They looked at each other, and Gael’s eyes were haunting, shaky and wide, and if he focused enough he could see hurt and guilt flaming over his irises.

“Yes, yes. Does five o’clock sound okay?”

“I’ll see you at five then” Julian responded, still looking at Gael.

The call ended, and Gael was still at the door, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. Gently, Julian stood up, and came closer to the door, crouching down to collect the vase, cracked and clipped, and placed the flowers inside one by one. Gael was shaking, he could tell, he could see his hands jitter from the corner of his eyes.

When he stood up, vase in hand, he finally spoke.

“I’ll go get some paper” he offered, but Gael lifted a wobbly hand and stopped him from moving.

“No, no it’s… okay, I’ll go I’ll… I’ll clean it up, excuse me”

He did clean it up, Julian was surprised he even came back at all. After everything was dry and clean, Julian placed the vase on his desk, turning around moments later to find Gael fixing his bag over his shoulder.

They stared at each other for a moment, and had it been any other day, Julian would’ve found hope on how distraught Gael looked, as if he wanted to talk as if he wanted to show he cared, as if he wanted to reach out and hold Julian and never let go of him ever again. Julian was dying for something like that, for Gael to look at him like that, like he wanted to talk to Julian, finally.

But he had taken too long, and Julian had been waiting for a year and more, had been prodding and testing the waters and asking and even a few times begging to talk and to finally fix things, in whatever way Gael wanted him to.

Gael had made him feel so unwanted, unloved, unheard, unseen, he had made him feel invisible for so long…

“We need to talk”

He said, though it sounded more like a whisper.


Came another whisper.