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“Do you ever regret it?”
Jaehyun’s eyes flicker onto the ridge resting near the edge of Taeyong’s right eye. “Regret what?”
“Getting married to him.”
Jaehyun sighs, and the next thing he knows, he is already losing. Again. How many times have he lost against the surface of Taeyong’s palms? He finds that he doesn’t know. Not that it matters anymore. His defeat has already been long done the moment he decided to bid his farewell.
“Regret isn’t something to be taken lightly,” he tells him instead. He pushes a hand forward, grazing his fingers against the sides of his bourbon glass. He takes a sip once, twice; lets the alcohol settle into the sides of his mouth before swallowing. “If I know I would regret marrying your best friend, then I wouldn't have done it in the first place.”
“Oh.”
Silence.
Taeyong dips his head to stare at his fingers. They are calloused and rough. “I do,” he mutters. Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “Regret it, I mean.”
“Regret it how?”
Taeyong scoffs. “I don’t know,” he tells him. Honestly. Sincerely. “I just do.”
Jaehyun lowers his eyes onto Taeyong’s left hand, staring quietly at his calloused fingers and wondering if they would look just as delicate as his husband’s if he’s the one who wore their wedding band instead. Years ago, he would have dreamed of it deeply. Taeyong and him getting married in a small chapel far away from the city. Just the two of them.
“I wish it was me instead,” Taeyong whispers, and Jaehyun almost didn’t catch it.
He sighs and quietly bids his farewell just like before as he leaves his seat. Taeyong watches the same scene from years ago unfold and stretch into silence for the last time.
He is left alone with nothing but dust and dirt. Tonight, he loses, too.