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The truth of it was, no matter how Teeradech tries to keep it from his mind, his husband does not love him.
He isn't cruel, it's nothing of that sort. In fact, he doesn't think Jirawat has it in him to even crush an ant under his boot without first apologising. The man had always been kind; from the time they'd met over tea with their Mamas as they brokered the skeleton of an arrangement, to the moment Jirawat had burst into the solicitor's office where Teeradech had been read the true extent of his late father's debts to creditors of the legal and less than salubrious sort, Jirawat had been kind.
Kind, when the Alpha had offered him the choice to marry now instead of following the timeline their families had agreed to. Kind, when as the heir to the Sutivanichsak fortune, Jirawat had used his family's money to smooth over Teeradech's financial woes. Kinder still with bright eyes that catch in the afternoon light when he signed his name confidently alongside Teeradech's own shaky scrawl on their marriage certificate a few days later under the eyes of the holy man who had just blessed their union and a dull-faced clerk from the court.
Jirawat helped him in the weeks that had followed to untangle the mess he had inherited. Worked with him shoulder to shoulder as they poured through ledgers and letters, figuring out what to sell for a loss, what still stood a chance of a profit, and what can be turned around given a keener eye. And in between those sleepless nights and weak grey mornings, Teeradech fell in love with his husband that who had quietly become his anchor.
And in that, the truth of the matter is, no matter how he tries, Teeradech knows his husband could never love him back.
Atthaphan Phunsawat possesses the sort of beauty that inspires the romantics to write entire libraries of prose. An Omega with sparkling dark eyes on a sweet face that is never without a serene smile, Atthaphan is the belle of every ball and the star of every soiree. It goes to stand then, that the matter of his marriage has been mentioned and chattered about ever since his debut into society.
For some time, Jirawat's name had been thrown into the ring of potential suitors that boasted a roster of dukes and princes. But then Teeradech, a mere Beta with old name, happened and that was that.
Teeradech knows who he is. Has always been settled about his lot in life where, in due time, he would take over his father's estate, marry someone who he will be good to, make sure his younger sister Singha made her debut as an Alpha into polite society, and take care of his family. He hadn't dared hope for much, really. It's been a long time since he dreamed.
"You keep looking at him as if he's about to steal something from you."
Casting a blithe look over at his younger sister, he takes a small sip of his wine. On the other side of the dance floor, is Atthaphan tastefully draped in the latest silks and demurely laughing at something someone was saying. At his elbow, Jirawat gently touched him to pass him a glass of punch.
Singha narrows her eyes. "Stop looking at me like that." Teeradech hisses, batting her away when she digs her fingers into his arm. "Why aren't you mingling with people, anyways?"
"You're people. You count." Singha scoffs.
Teeradech catches the fleeting look before his sister can school her expression into something more neutral. A small blossom of warmth rippled through his chest despite himself and carves a small smile to soothe the worry she could not quite hide. Singha worries far more than she lets on and sometimes Teeradech feels a little bereft at his own ineptitudes that she would have to worry about him so.
"You really should be on the dance floor. Or at least, make some friends with the other ladies in attendance." He gently persuades instead of addressing the thread of concern that pinches at the corners of her mouth. "I'll be poor company seeing as I intend to remain here by this flower pot until we can leave without causing Mama any headache about offending our hosts."
At the swell of the violins, Singha flicks her gaze over to the dessert table. "You'll tell me if it all is too much? We can leave and I do not care what Mama has to say about it." The unspoken 'we can leave without your husband too' sits a little heavy between her words.
Fondness seizing his chest, Teeradech smiles, patting at his sister's hand before nudging her along. Really, she worries too much sometimes but he supposes that it comes with the territory. By right, as the Alpha child, Singha should have inherited the lot when their father passed. But she was a female Alpha, something their father had lamented. As it stands, Teeradech came into the managing the ledgers, and Singha will take the title in a few months when she has her birthday.
Rubbing at the gold of his wedding band, the Beta feels his heart squeeze.
He hadn't taken it off once since Jirawat slid it on his finger on their wedding day. The weight of it comforts him somehow, but he knows it's nothing but a pretty illusion that he holds with borrowed time. Most of the financial hurdles have been cleared with Jirawat's help and Teeradech knows he will never be able to repay him in this lifetime. He owes him far more than the money.
The little he can do, he will. It's precisely this reason that guides him to contacting the family solicitor to draw up a writ of separation. One that will include clauses for the repaying of all the money Jirawat had spent on helping him, and written with language that will ensure that all the blame for their divorce lands squarely on Teeradech's shoulders so that Jirawat can walk free from this marriage with as little scandal to his name as possible. Once the bulk of his father's entanglements are sorted, he will issue an instruction to the solicitor to file the necessary papers.
"Are you alright?"
The gentle touch to his elbow sends a jolt down his spine. Jirawat's gentle smile is equal parts curious and concern, and Teeradech quickly hums, plastering a smile that he hopes was halfway placating enough to assuage his husband. A cold glass of punch is pressed into his hand and Jirawat slides into the space Singha had occupied.
"Is it getting too much? I know you're not too fond of such large gatherings." Jirawat asks, knocking their shoulders together. "We can leave, if you'd like. I can have someone help chaperone Singha, if you're worried."
Something in Teeradech melts and breaks in a heartache. It's these little gestures that sends him into a swooping breathlessness of disbelief that such an attentive and meticulous person could ever deem him worthy of such a care. The Alpha presses their thighs together. Heat burns through the layers of their pressed trousers and Teeradech allows himself a moment of weakness when he asks, "Can you stay here just for a little while?"
Jirawat's eyes widen, then crinkle when his plush lips curl into a pleased little thing. "Of course."
As they say, man plans and God disposes.
For all his best laid plans, Teeradech failed to account for a few variables.
The first, his Beta heat. One that has not happened in well over half a decade for him, and one that he had not anticipated when it hit him like a sledgehammer while he was pouring over ledgers about tuna. Perhaps he should have been more aware of the signs his body was about to betray him -- the body chills, the brain fog, and the sleeplessness that have been percolating for days.
The second variable was Jirawat himself coming home early, taking deep breath of the air near Teeradech, and.
Well.
On a rather blustering Thursday, Atthaphan Phunsawat visits their home to personally deliver a wedding invitation.
"I don't understand." Teeradech manages around a sudden rise of nausea sitting thick in his throat. Jirawat and Atthaphan had both turned to look over at him at the same time with twin looks of confusion. "I thought you," He points at Jirawat. "Were pining for him." The sticky taste of bile climbs higher.
Jirawat huffs, eyes wide with affectionate offence. But before he can say anything, Atthaphan cuffs him by his ear. "You never told him about us, did you?" Not waiting for an answer, the Omega hurries to Teeradech's side, taking his hand and gently guiding him to sit. "That husband of yours is a fine one, yes, but my heart has always belonged to my Jumpol. I have certainly never looked at anyone else, most certainly not your husband, dear Teeradech."
"Do you mean--"
"Yes, my dear." Atthaphan laughs, a brilliantly bright and airy sound. "If there's anyone that Jirawat has been pining for, it's you."
Teeradech thinks he might have had a smart response to that. It might have been a smooth one too. But instead, what comes out is the regurgitation of his breakfast as it coats his lap and splatters on the carpet.
It's only after he lets Jirawat clean him up and help him change out of his soiled clothes, and held him while he cried a little from the mortification of it all, that he asks, "So, you're not pining for Atthaphan, then?"
Jirawat's touch stills where he's helping him comb back his hair. "I can see how you might have come to that conclusion, but in short, yes, Atthaphan has never been the one I held most dear." A pause, then he gently cups Teeradech by the cheek. "Have you been carrying this, this entire time?"
Teeradech shrugs. Shame crawls up his neck, but he forces himself not to run from it when Jirawat's face swims into view. His dark eyes almost twinkling in the mid-morning light. The thumb on his cheekbone trace a slow path under his eye.
"I promise you, Teeradech, there is no one else. There has never been anyone else and I don't want there to be."
It should shame him just how much he had almost risked because he decided that to speak, was to die. There was the matter of the papers at the solicitor's that have yet to be filed and how Teeradech needs to lay it bare for Jirawat. But under the warmth of his Alpha's gaze, Teeradech lets himself sink into the moment. They can worry about the rest later.