The Love Algorithm

Chapter 30: The Space Between Heartbeats

He'd seen Est fall apart in grief.
He'd seen him anxious, furious, joyful.
But this restraint? This quiet wall?

It scared William more than Est crying ever would.

"I love you," he said finally, voice low and certain.

Est looked up at him with the softest eyes—and the saddest smile.

"I know."

William

He had made a list.

1. Take Est to that rooftop ramen place in Sathorn.
2. Watch "Call Me by Your Name" again even though Est pretends to hate it.
3. Sleep in late together without alarms.
4. Say I love you without it sounding like an apology.

He had promised himself they'd make memories to tide over the six months. But the list remained... a list.

Because reality came in like a storm —
Visa paperwork.
Brand meetings.
Press calls.
Fittings.
Flight bookings.
An impromptu interview Off sprung on him with a Shanghai team that barely spoke English.
And then came the rehearsals.

William tried.

He brought home Est's favorite snacks. He sent voice notes between wardrobe trials.
"Miss you already," one said.
Another: "Let's do something tonight? Even if it's just movies in bed?"

But by the time he got back, Est was asleep — or pretending to be.

The distance didn't start when William left.
It started in the in-between.
In those two weeks where presence was a shadow and love was spoken only through closed doors and cold dinners.

Est

At first, he told himself it was okay.

Of course William was busy. This was a big deal. A career milestone. He should be supportive.
So Est kept himself occupied — organizing the spice rack alphabetically, working late into the night, even picking up a side project he wasn't passionate about.

He didn't complain.

He didn't say anything even when their takeout grew cold waiting on William, or when three days passed without a full conversation that didn't start with "Sorry, babe, can we talk later?"

He didn't say anything... until it started to ache.

Until even the sight of William's half-empty dresser felt like abandonment in slow motion.

One night, William came in, half-dead from another round of meetings, and found Est curled up on the couch, still wearing the sweatshirt William had left behind last week.

William smiled. "You waited up?"

Est shrugged. "Wasn't sleepy."

"You should've called. I'd have tried to come home earlier."

"You said that yesterday."

The silence after that wasn't loud — just tired.

William sat next to him and laid his head on Est's shoulder.

Est didn't move.

"I'm sorry," William whispered.

Est let out a quiet breath. "You don't need to say that every time you show up tired. I'm not mad."

"You're not happy either."

"I'm just... here."

They sat like that. Still. Sad. Together, but nowhere close.