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And that’s the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and longing stares
It’s born from just one single glance.
~illicit affair (folklore)
Tanrak’s life was the same every day. Wake up, work, come home, eat dinner with Betty, and repeat. He wasn’t miserable, but he wasn’t exactly happy, either. His marriage to Betty had been steady, predictable, but there was no spark. No real connection, not like you see in the movies. She was nice enough, a good woman, but they both knew they weren’t in love. They just... existed together.
Tanrak’s real escape was books. He’d lose himself in them for hours. In the pages of other people’s stories, he could forget about the dull rhythm of his own life. It was like he could breathe in a way he never could anywhere else.
The small bookstore in town was his sanctuary. It wasn’t much,just a cozy little place with bookshelves crammed full, some dusty, some brand new. That was his peace. He’d spend hours there, browsing, getting lost in whatever caught his attention.
But then came Barth.
Barth was the new caretaker at the bookstore. He was nothing like anyone Tanrak had met before. He wasn’t loud or flashy, just... calm. He had this quiet energy about him, like he was the kind of person who took life in stride, without rushing through it.
Barth had dark hair that always seemed a little too long, eyes that seemed to notice everything around him. He wasn’t like the people in town, and that intrigued Tanrak.
At first, Tanrak didn’t think much of it. Just another guy in a small town. But soon, he found himself visiting the bookstore more and more, not because he needed anything, but because he needed to be near Barth.
They’d exchange polite hellos, small talk about the weather or the books, and nothing too personal. But over time, Tanrak started to look forward to those moments.
Just seeing Barth felt... different.
Every glance Barth gave him, every word he spoke, left Tanrak feeling like something inside him had been stirred, like he was waking up from a long sleep he didn’t even realize he’d been in.
Soon, it wasn’t enough to just see him in passing. Tanrak started making up reasons to come to the store. He’d pretend to browse, but really, he was just hoping to catch a glimpse of Barth. The more they talked, the more Tanrak felt the connection between them grow. It wasn’t obvious, at least not at first.
But with every conversation, the tension between them built. It was like an invisible string,tying them together without either of them saying a word about it.
One day, when the rain was really coming down, Tanrak walked into the shop like he always did. The bell above the door gave a soft ring, but the place was quiet. Barth was by one of the shelves, moving a few books around like he was pretending to be busy.
The rain hitting the windows was the only sound in the room. It filled the space between them, that heavy kind of silence that meant something was waiting to be said.
Tanrak leaned against the counter and said, almost without thinking “Don’t you ever feel like you’re just… stuck?”
Barth glanced over, not saying anything yet. Tanrak kept going.
“Like you’re living a life that doesn’t really feel like yours? Just going through the motions because that’s what people expect from you.”
Barth didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, looking at Tanrak like he’d been waiting for him to say that.
After a long pause, Barth said quietly “Yeah. More than sometimes.”
Something shifted in the air then. Not big. Just enough.
Tanrak’s heartbeat was a little faster, and for a second, neither of them moved. They just looked at each other, like they both knew exactly where this was headed, but neither one was sure who would make the first move.
Then Barth took a slow step forward. He didn’t say a word.
He just closed the distance between them and kissed him.
It was a slow kiss, soft and uncertain at first, like they both weren’t sure if it was okay, but couldn’t stop it anyway. But the moment it happened, everything else melted away. The bookstore, the rain, the life Tanrak had built it all faded into the background. There was just Barth, and there was just him. And in that kiss, Tanrak felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time…alive.
Things shifted after that. Quietly. No one else knew, and that was probably for the best. Over the next two weeks, they kept it hidden. Little moments when no one was watching;quick touches in the back aisle, stolen kisses in the stockroom. It wasn’t planned, but it became something they both kept coming back to.
Then Betty had to leave town,her mom had gotten sick. It happened quickly, and she left to stay with her for a while. Tanrak stayed behind, keeping the house running.
He started showing up at the bookstore more. Not for anything in particular,just to be around Barth. Some days they barely said anything. Other days they’d talk for hours, leaning against the counter, pretending like none of it was strange.
One night, after Barth finished closing up, Tanrak invited him over.
They didn’t make a big deal out of it. They sat at the kitchen table, eating leftovers and sharing a bottle of wine that had been sitting in the cupboard too long. After dinner, they moved to the living room, where a half-broken radio played some slow jazz through fuzzy speakers.
It was warm and low enough to fill the silence.
They were on the couch.It was slower, more certain. Hands found each other naturally, without hesitation. It wasn’t rushed, and it didn’t feel wrong. Just quiet and close.
Eventually, they went upstairs.
What happened between them wasn’t dramatic or wild. It was soft. Careful. Clothes came off between quiet laughs and nervous hands. They didn’t talk much;just held on, took their time, let it be whatever it needed to be. It was messy and real and soft in a way that caught Tanrak off guard.
Later, they lay there in the dark, tangled up in the sheets, not saying much. Barth’s head rested on his shoulder. The room was still, except for the rain tapping softly against the windows again.
Tanrak stared at the ceiling, heart full and heavy at the same time. He didn’t know where any of it was going. But for tonight…it was enough.
But small towns are full of secrets, and secrets don’t stay hidden for long.
One afternoon, Tanrak was sitting in the back of the store, pretending to read a book, when he saw Mr. James , the bookstore owner, pull Barth aside. The look on Mr. James’s face was tense, his words too low for Tanrak to hear, but it didn’t matter. Tanrak knew what was happening. Mr. James knew.
The weight of that realization sank like a stone in Tanrak’s chest. He didn’t need to hear the conversation to know what was going to happen next. It was the kind of thing that couldn’t be allowed in a small town like theirs. The quiet love that had bloomed between him and Barth wasn’t something the world was ready to accept.
By the end of the week, Barth was gone.
Tanrak never really found out what exactly went down. He could guess,he had seen it happen before in this town, the whispers, the judgment. It was just too much for people to handle. Barth had been asked to leave, and Tanrak had been left behind with nothing but the memory of what could’ve been.
Tanrak didn’t plan to tell her.
It had been weeks since Barth left. Weeks of silence, of cold dinners and long walks that led nowhere. He still went to the bookstore sometimes, but not like before. Not to see Barth. Just to stand there, hoping.
One night, the weight of everything finally broke him.
Betty had just made tea. She was sitting at the kitchen table, quiet, stirring slowly. The radio played soft music in the background, but it couldn’t cover the sound of Tanrak’s heart beating too fast.
He sat down across from her. His hands were shaking. He didn’t know where to begin.
“Betty…” he said softly.
She looked up.
“There’s something I need to say. And I don’t know how. But I can’t keep it inside anymore.”
She didn’t speak. Just waited.
Tanrak looked down at his tea. His voice was low. “I met someone. At the bookstore. His name was Barth.”
Still, she said nothing. Her face didn’t change.
“I didn’t plan for it. I wasn’t looking for it. But it happened. He made me feel something I didn’t know I could feel. Something real. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry, Betty. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
For a long time, she was quiet.
Then she let out a breath. “Tanrak” she said gently, “I know.”
He looked up at her, eyes wide.
“I knew something was different. You smiled more. You were… alive. I didn’t know the details, but I knew it wasn’t about me. And I wasn’t angry. I was relieved.”
“Relieved?” he whispered.
She nodded. “You deserve to feel something. I’ve always known we weren’t in love. We were just… safe. I think we both stayed because it was easier than starting over. But you’ve found something more. And I’m not going to be the one who keeps you from that.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“Thank you” he said. “I thought you’d hate me.”
Betty reached across the table and held his hand. “I could never hate you. I want you to be happy, Tanrak. Really happy.”
He cried then, not loudly. Just quiet tears that fell onto the table between them.
A few days later, something strange happened.
Tanrak came home to find a small brown package on his doorstep. No return name. Just his own, written in familiar handwriting.
He brought it inside with careful hands.
Inside was a book. A worn paperback. The cover showed two men sitting beneath a tree, holding hands.
The title was simple: Am I Blue?
His heart pounded as he turned the first page.
Tucked inside was a folded letter.
He opened it slowly.
Tanrak,
I’m sorry I left like I did. I didn’t want to. But I saw the way Mr. James looked at you after he spoke to me. I knew what would happen if I stayed. I wanted to protect you. I thought if I left, the whispers would stop. That you’d be safe.
I don’t know if I made the right choice. But I want you to know that what we had was real. The quiet mornings, the laughter in the back aisles, the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t watching. I carry all of that with me.
I hope one day you’ll forgive me. And I hope you never forget that you’re allowed to want more than what you were given.
— Barth
Tanrak pressed the letter to his chest. His heart hurt, but there was also something warm in the pain.
He picked up a pen and wrote back.
Barth,
You don’t have to protect me anymore. I’m not afraid. Not of them. Not of this town. Not of what I feel. Betty knows. And she doesn’t hate me. She wants me to be happy. I want you to know that I choose you. Even if you never come back, I needed you to hear that.
— Tanrak
He mailed it the next morning.
And then… nothing.
No reply.
He didn’t stop hoping, but he also didn’t let himself fall apart again. He just… waited.
Weeks passed.
Then a month.
And then one rainy afternoon, when he hadn’t meant to go anywhere, something pulled him out of the house. His feet took him to the bookstore without thinking.
He hadn’t been back in days.
The bell above the door gave a soft ring as he stepped inside.
He froze.
Barth was there.
He stood behind the counter, just like before. Same messy hair. Same calm eyes. He looked up, and when he saw Tanrak, something in his face broke open.
Neither of them spoke.
Tanrak took one slow step forward.
Then another.
Then Barth moved, coming out from behind the counter, meeting him halfway.
No words.
Just the space between them closing.
Then their lips met. Soft. Certain.
Like nothing had ever changed.
The rain tapped against the windows again.
But inside the bookstore, everything was still.
And for once, completely right.
Betty moved to a quiet house near the sea, where each day started calm and peaceful. She began painting again, filling her home with colors she used to love. For the first time, she felt free and truly herself.
THE END