Deep Consuming Addiction

Chapter 106

✨The Weight of a Man’s Choice ✨

Ari Darven

Nasir Darven didn’t like being disturbed without reason.

So when Ari walked into his father’s private office without announcing himself, it didn’t go unnoticed.

Ari didn’t go to his father often for things like this.

Business—yes. Strategy—always. Decisions that required precision and control—those were easy conversations between them.

But this?

This was different.

Still, he found himself walking into Nasir Darven’s office late in the evening, the space dimly lit, quiet in the way it always was when his father was thinking.

Nasir didn’t look up immediately.

He finished signing the document in front of him, set the pen down with quiet precision, then leaned back in his chair.

Only then did his eyes lift.

He finished what he was reading, set it aside, then leaned back fully in his chair, his gaze settling on Ari with calm awareness.

“Ari.”

There was no surprise in his tone.

Only awareness.

“You look like something followed you in,” Nasir added, studying him.

Ari let out a slow breath, closing the door behind him.

“Not something. Someone.”

“You don’t come here without a reason,” Nasir said, his voice even, observant rather than probing. “So what is it?”

Ari exhaled slowly, stepping further into the room but not sitting right away. He wasn’t sure how to start, which in itself was unusual for him.

“It’s… not business,” he said finally.

That alone was enough to shift Nasir’s attention more fully onto him.

“Well,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from him, “this should be interesting.”

Nasir’s brow lifted slightly.

“Then it must matter,” his father replied.

Ari gave a faint nod before lowering himself into the chair across from him, leaning forward slightly, his hands loosely clasped.

Ari sat.

Not relaxed.

Not tense.

Controlled.

For a moment, he didn’t speak.

And Nasir didn’t rush him, didn’t interrupt. He simply watched him, letting him speak at his own pace.

Because whatever this was—

Ari had come here intentionally.

“She’s not like the others,” Ari said finally.

Nasir’s expression didn’t change.

But something in his eyes sharpened.

“They never are,” he replied calmly.

Ari almost smirked.

Almost.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “This one… she doesn’t move for anything. Not pressure. Not fear. Not expectations.”

Choosing his words carefully. “And it’s not simple.”

Nasir leaned forward slightly now, resting his forearms on the desk.

“But she moves for you,” he observed.

Ari’s jaw tightened.

“She hesitates,” he corrected.

A small pause.

Nasir watched him carefully.

“And that bothers you.”

It wasn’t a question.

Ari exhaled through his nose, his gaze dropping briefly before returning.

“I don’t hesitate with her,” he said. “Not once. I know exactly where I stand. I know what I want.”

“And she doesn’t,” Nasir finished.

Silence settled between them.

Ari leaned back slightly, one hand resting against his jaw as he thought.

“She asked for space,” he admitted.

Nasir’s brow lifted just slightly.

“And you gave it to her?”

Ari huffed a quiet breath.

“For a while.”

That was answer enough.

Nasir leaned back again, his gaze steady, assessing.

“And now?”

Ari’s expression hardened just slightly.

“She came back,” he said. “Said she’s choosing me. Said she’s all in now.”

Nasir was quiet for a moment.

“And you don’t believe her.”

Ari’s jaw shifted.

“I believe she means it,” he said.

A beat.

“I just don’t know if she can hold it.”

There it was.

Not doubt in her feelings.

Doubt in her consistency.

Nasir nodded slowly.

“That’s a different concern.”

Ari leaned forward slightly now, his forearms resting on his thighs.

“I don’t do unstable,” he said. “I don’t move back and forth. I don’t question what I’ve already decided.”

“And she does,” Nasir said.

Ari didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Nasir studied him for a long moment.

Then spoke.

“You’re not asking me about her,” he said calmly. “You’re asking me about you.”

Ari’s eyes flicked to his father.

Nasir continued.

“You’ve already decided she matters. That’s clear. The question is whether you’re willing to deal with what comes with that.”

Ari frowned slightly.

“And what comes with that?” he asked.

Nasir’s gaze held his.

“Uncertainty,” he said simply.

Ari didn’t like that answer.

It showed.

“I don’t build anything on uncertainty,” he replied.

Nasir gave a small, almost knowing nod.

“And yet here you are.”

That—

That landed.

Ari leaned back again, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s not uncertain about everything,” he said. “Just… me.”

Nasir’s lips curved faintly.

“Then that tells you how much weight you carry in her life.”

Ari stilled.

“Explain that,” he said.

Nasir leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but firm.

“A woman who is certain in every other area of her life but hesitates with you is not unsure of you,” he said. “She’s aware of what choosing you costs.”

Silence.

Ari’s expression shifted.

His gaze dropped briefly, his mind turning.

“I don’t want to be something she resents later,” he admitted.

There it was.

The real concern.

Nasir watched him closely.

“Then don’t let her choose you blindly,” he said.

Ari looked back up.

“Make sure she understands exactly what choosing you means,” Nasir continued. “Not the feeling. The reality.”

Ari’s jaw tightened slightly.

“And if she still chooses me?” he asked.

Nasir leaned back, completely at ease now.

“Then you stop questioning it,” he said simply.

A pause.

“Or you walk away.”

The room went quiet.

Because there was no middle ground in that answer.

Ari sat there for a long moment.

Letting it settle.

Then he nodded once.

Slow.

Decisive.

Nasir watched him carefully.

“Whatever you do,” he added, “don’t punish her for taking longer to reach where you already are.”

Ari’s eyes flicked to his father again.

“And don’t lower your standard just to keep her,” Nasir finished.

A beat.

Then—

A faint smirk.

“She’ll either rise to meet you… or she won’t.”

That was all he needed.

He paused.

“If she’s still standing after everything this brings…” Nasir said calmly, “then you’ve found something rare.”

Ari didn’t respond.

But the look in his eyes—

Said he already knew.

“She’s not like what I’m used to,” Ari continued. “She doesn’t bend. Doesn’t compromise easily. In every other part of her life, she’s… certain. Controlled.”

A faint, almost knowing look crossed Nasir’s face. “And with you?”

Ari let out a quiet breath. “With me, she hesitates. Cautious.”

That seemed to interest him more.

“And that bothers you,” Nasir said.

“It doesn’t just bother me,” Ari replied, his tone tightening slightly. “I don’t understand it. I’ve never questioned choosing her. Not once. But she… keeps trying to figure it out like it’s something she needs to measure first.”

Nasir was quiet for a moment, studying his son in a way that wasn’t judgmental, just thoughtful.

“Does she care for you?” he asked.

Ari’s jaw shifted. “Yes.”

“Then her hesitation isn’t about lack of feeling,” Nasir said calmly.

Ari leaned back slightly, frustration threading through him. “Then what is it about?”

Nasir rested his hand against the arm of his chair, his voice steady. “Control.”

Ari frowned faintly.

“You’re not something she can control,” Nasir continued. “And for someone who has built their life on certainty, that creates conflict.”

Ari was quiet now, absorbing that.

“She’s not unsure of you,” his father added. “She’s unsure of what choosing you costs her.”

That landed heavier than Ari expected.

Nasir’s brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t react beyond that. “That is not a small decision for her.”

“No,” Ari said. “It isn’t.”

“Then she’s already choosing,” Nasir replied.

Ari shook his head faintly. “It doesn’t feel that simple.”

“It isn’t,” Nasir agreed. “Because now it becomes about whether she can live with the consequences of that choice.”

Silence settled between them for a moment.

Ari leaned forward again, his voice lower now. “How do I handle it?”

Nasir held his gaze. “You don’t force clarity out of someone who is still learning it.”

Ari’s expression hardened slightly. “I’m not going to wait indefinitely.”

“And you shouldn’t,” his father said calmly. “But there is a difference between waiting and allowing.”

Ari didn’t respond immediately.

“If she is as strong as you say,” Nasir continued, “then she will come to her decision fully. Not halfway. And when she does, it will hold.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Ari asked.

Nasir’s voice didn’t change. “Then you will know you were certain where she was not.”

That wasn’t the answer Ari wanted—but it was the one that made sense.

Ari’s jaw tightened. “That’s not easy.”

“It isn’t supposed to be,” his father said. “But if you try to close the distance before she’s ready, you’ll only push her further into hesitation.”

Ari leaned back, running a hand through his hair, his thoughts shifting.

“And you?” Nasir added after a pause. “Are you certain?”

That question didn’t require thought.

“Yes.”

Nasir studied him for a second longer, then gave a small nod.

“Then stand in that,” he said. “Not loudly. Not forcefully. Just… consistently.”

Ari exhaled slowly, the tension in him not gone—but clearer now.

“Don’t meet her in uncertainty,” Nasir finished. “Let her rise to your certainty.”

Silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t heavy.

Ari stood after a moment, his posture more grounded than when he walked in.

“Thank you,” he said.

Nasir gave a slight nod, already reaching back for his work. “We’ll see if she’s as strong as you believe.”

Ari paused at the door, his hand resting briefly against it.

“She is,” he said.

And for the first time since everything started to unravel—

He sounded completely sure.

---

The office felt too clean.

Too quiet.

Too controlled.

Ari sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled, tie loosened, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him—but he wasn’t reading.

The numbers were there.

The reports were open.

Matteo was talking.

“…and if we push legal on the secondary outlets, we can shut down another thirty percent of the recycled content,” Matteo said, flipping through a tablet as he walked in without knocking. “The rest is low-tier garbage, not worth—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Looked at Ari.

Really looked at him.

“You haven’t heard a word I just said, have you?”

Ari didn’t look up.

“Send it through legal.”

Matteo blinked.

Then snorted.

“Yeah. You definitely didn’t hear me.”

Ari leaned back slightly, finally lifting his gaze.

“I heard enough.”

Matteo studied him for a second longer, then walked over, dropping into the chair across from him.

“Mm,” he hummed. “You look terrible.”

Ari gave him a flat look.

“I’m working.”

“No,” Matteo said, leaning back comfortably, “you’re avoiding your empty bed.”

Ari’s jaw tightened slightly.

“I’m staying at your place for convenience.”

Matteo burst out laughing.

“Convenience?” he repeated. “You’ve got a penthouse the size of a hotel suite and you’re choosing my guest room with the squeaky door and the mattress that hates your back?”

Ari didn’t respond.

Matteo grinned.

“Oh, this is serious.”

“Drop it,” Ari said calmly.

Matteo held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave your heartbreak alone.”

A beat.

“For now.”

Ari shot him a look.

Matteo smirked.

“You’ve been staring at that phone like it owes you money.”

Ari’s gaze flicked briefly to the device on his desk.

Just for a second.

“Focus on the work,” he said.

Matteo leaned forward slightly.

“You mean the work where you’ve been shutting down half the internet because someone decided to breathe wrong in her direction?”

Ari’s expression didn’t change.

“That needed to be handled,” he said.

“Oh, I agree,” Matteo nodded. “Very noble. Very protective. Very ‘I’m not emotionally invested at all.’”

Ari didn’t bite.

Didn’t react.

But his fingers tapped once against the desk.

Matteo caught it.

Of course he did.

“Still no call?” he asked more quietly this time.

Ari’s jaw shifted slightly.

“No.”

Matteo nodded once.

Not pushing.

Not joking now.

“Maybe she’s thinking,” he offered.

“Maybe,” Ari said.

But his tone didn’t carry much belief.

Because thinking—

Was exactly the problem.

Ari leaned back again, running a hand through his hair.

His eyes drifting—not to the screen—

But to nothing.

The last five days played in his head whether he wanted them to or not.

Her voice.

Her hesitation.

The way she held him like she was afraid to lose him—

But still couldn’t say the one thing he needed.

It sat wrong in his chest.

Still.

“I’m not doing halfway,” he muttered under his breath.

Matteo heard him.

Of course he did.

“No one said you should,” he replied.

Silence stretched between them.

Then—

A vibration.

Soft.

Sharp.

Unmistakable.

Both of them looked at the desk.

Ari’s phone lit up.

Matteo leaned slightly, trying to see the screen.

“Moment of truth,” he murmured.

Ari didn’t move right away.

His eyes stayed on the name.

Elena.

His chest tightened.

Not painfully.

Not sharply.

Just… there.

Real.

Matteo sat back slowly, watching him.

“Well?” he asked.

Ari exhaled once.

Slow.

Controlled.

Then reached for the phone.

His thumb hovered for a second.

Not hesitation.

Consideration.

Because the last time she called—

He didn’t answer.

This time—

Everything felt different.

He pressed accept.

“Yeah.”

His voice was calm.

Even.

But something under it—

Shifted.

A pause.

He listened.

Really listened.

And Matteo watched the change happen in real time.

Ari’s posture straightened slightly.

His gaze sharpened.

His jaw tightened—

But not in frustration.

In focus.

“…You did what?” Ari asked quietly.

Matteo’s brows lifted.

Another pause.

Ari stood.

Slowly.

His hand ran through his hair once as he turned slightly away.

“You stepped off the case?” he repeated.

Matteo blinked.

Oh.

That was new.

Ari listened again.

Longer this time.

And whatever she was saying—

It held him.

Fully.

“…Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

His voice wasn’t sharp.

Wasn’t angry.

It was something else.

Something quieter.

Something that sounded dangerously close to… relief.

Matteo leaned back, crossing his arms, watching carefully.

Ari turned slightly toward the window now, his free hand resting on his hip.

“You made that decision on your own?” he asked.

Another pause.

His expression shifted again.

Softened.

Just slightly.

“…Yeah,” he murmured.

Matteo exhaled slowly.

Because that look?

He hadn’t seen it in days.

Ari closed his eyes briefly, listening.

Then—

A faint breath left him.

“You’re serious,” he said.

Not questioning.

Confirming.

Silence.

Then—

Ari’s jaw loosened.

His shoulders dropping just a fraction.

“Alright.”

Matteo leaned forward now.

Interested.

Because that tone?

That wasn’t distance anymore.

That wasn’t shutting down.

That was something opening.

Slowly.

Carefully.

But opening.

Ari’s gaze lowered slightly as he listened again.

And this time—

When he spoke—

His voice was different.

“Where are you?” he asked.

Matteo smiled to himself.

Because just like that—

Everything had changed.