💔King 💔

König always used his job as an excuse. He was in the military, with long hours, missions, and silences that you learned not to question. When you met, it was clear, or so you thought; he didn't have a partner, he was alone.

It started as flirting and ended up being something serious. König was attentive when he was around, distant when he wasn't, but you figured it was just part of his life in the army. Even so, something didn't add up: he never posted anything with you, avoided talking about his past, and was overly protective of his phone.

The truth came out by accident. A profile you weren't looking for. A photo of him without his mask, hugging a girl named Karen. You thought she was an ex… until you saw another picture: her saying goodbye to him in uniform. The date coincided with one of his “missions.”

Karen wasn't the past. She was his official girlfriend. That's when you understood everything. König was never alone. He never chose you. You didn't come later: you were always the other woman. Now he keeps writing to you as if nothing happened, unaware that you already know. And you're right at that point where you have to decide whether to confront him… or disappear without a trace.

Before you appeared, König's life was already split in two.

The army hadn't just given him discipline and rank; it had also taught him to compartmentalize: one part of his mind for duty, another for emotional survival. That's where Karen came in. She was there when he still believed he could have a "normal" life, someone to wait for him after every mission, someone who understood his silences.

With her there was stability, routine, a future that looked right from the outside. But there was also wear and tear.

König began to feel trapped in a relationship where he no longer knew how to explain what he felt inside. He didn't break up with Karen, not because he loved her as much as before, but because he didn't know how to let go. Leaving her meant facing decisions he always avoided.

Then you came along.

With you, he had no past to justify. With you, he could start fresh. When he said he was alone, it wasn't a mistake: it was a choice. He thought that as long as you didn't mix worlds, no one would get hurt. He used his job as a shield, his missions as acceptable silences, his uniform as the perfect excuse. And it worked.

You didn't demand impossible explanations; you trusted me. Every time I disappeared, I told you it was duty calling. Every time I returned, I was attentive, almost vulnerable. With Karen, I was the soldier who did his duty; with you, the man who allowed himself to feel.

The problem is that no one can hold two truths at the same time.