Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 278: Closing

Chapter 278 – Roman POV

Burying myself in work is the best solution. Not the healthiest, perhaps, but effective. It’s the only thing that keeps me from thinking too much.

Thorne, of course, has dumped most of the administrative responsibilities on me. Vice Archon—that’s my title now. Sounds fancy. What it means is I spend my days managing departments, drafting policies, and trying to make sure Alden Island doesn’t collapse under the weight of its own rapid growth.

Leona has taken over security and the knight patrols. She’s terrifyingly competent, which helps. Brian’s in charge of construction—no surprise there. The man treats buildings like children.

And Raul... well. That bald idiot has been skipping meetings again. Something about expanding his marriage circle. I’ve heard rumors he already has a wife and is scouting for two more. He’s lazy as hell, but I’ll find something to occupy him. Merchant regulation, maybe.

It’s late before I even glance out the window. Dusk has turned to night. The lamps outside flicker to life, casting long golden shadows across the stone.

I have a place in the town, a spacious, perfectly furnished home. But I prefer staying here—on the estate, in Thorne and Noelle’s vast household. There’s more than enough space. And maybe... maybe it makes me feel less alone.

I lean back in the chair, exhaling deeply, and close my eyes.

I hear the door open and close, the scent that fills the room is herbs and something sweet. Felix.

I open my eyes and look at the door and he stands there, uncertain, the dark circles under his eyes more defined.

He must have lost some weight. I almost stand and fuss over him, but I don’t. I’m not going to do that. Not anymore.

"Felix? What can I do for you?" I say.

I see the hurt in his eyes but I don’t falter. I can’t live the rest of my life like this.

"I met with Brian on my way here. He asked me to bring you this," he says, motioning to the papers in his hands, and I gesture for him to bring them.

Receiving them, our fingers brush and I don’t react outwardly.

I flip through the pages. Nothing major, just his city plan ideas.

"I heard you’ve been attending matchmaking arrangements," he says, and I pause.

"Yeah," I say. "I’m not getting any younger. I found a gray hair the other day," I say, trying to act normal.

"I thought you didn’t want a family," he says.

"No. I don’t want kids, there’s enough of them floating around here. But I do want someone to be with," I say.

Felix doesn’t say anything right away. He just stands there, still holding onto the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the floor.

"With someone who doesn’t want kids?" he asks quietly, not accusatory, just... tired.

"With someone willing to love me back," I reply, and I see the way his shoulders tense, the slight flinch he tries to hide. It’s a low blow. I know it. I regret it the moment it leaves my mouth.

But that doesn’t make it less true.

"I’m sorry," I add after a beat, softer this time. And I mean it. Felix never promised me more. He told me from the beginning—clear, direct. I was the one who got greedy. I was the one who hoped it would change.

"You think marriage will give you that?" he asks, his voice carefully neutral, but I know him well enough to hear the hurt behind it.

I exhale slowly, eyes drifting to the papers still sitting on my desk.

"Maybe. It worked for Thorne and Noelle. Granted, they’re an exception, practically divine punishment blessing. But look at Victor and Oliver. That works. They look happy."

He says nothing.

"And maybe I’m allowed to want something like that. Something that’s mine. Someone who won’t look at me like I’m a complication."

"I understand," he murmurs, and I believe him. I do.

I don’t regret loving Felix. Not one second of it. He’s been my comfort, my disaster, my tether in the darkest moments. Strong, capable, impossible to ignore. Turning back time—I’d fall for him all over again. That’s the kind of man he is.

But the ache of being almost enough? Of being his secret comfort but never his public choice? I don’t think anyone is Felix’s public choice actually.

I want to be the one someone reaches for. Not the one they hide behind walls and fleeting nights.

"I guess I can’t believe we’re over," Felix says, his voice breaking just slightly around the edges. And then he smiles—but it’s a soft, aching thing. Like a wound dressed up in fondness.

"Me neither," I say, and my throat tightens.

"I thought I was going to be under your spell forever."

And large part of me still is. You don’t just shake off nearly a decade of nights, of touches, of memories that refuse to fade.

He stands there, hands at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Like if he moved too quickly, everything between us might shatter again.

"For what it’s worth," he says finally, "I really do wish you all the best."

I nod, a sad smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"I know. You always did mean well."

He lingers for a moment longer, then turns toward the door.

"I should head out."

"Yeah," I say. "You should."

He opens the door, pauses—like maybe he’s waiting for me to stop him.

Gods, I want to.

I want to call him back. Want to fall into him again, just for one more night. Just for the comfort of what we had. The familiarity. The warmth. The lie.

But I don’t move.

Because I know myself. And I know if I keep going this way—if I let him stay without all of him—I’ll end up hating him for it. And that? That would destroy me.

The door clicks shut behind him.

The sound is soft, almost gentle.

But in my chest, it echoes like the closing of a Chapter.

Maybe even the end of our story.