[BL] Dear Hushand, I want divorce-Chapter 54: Do I really...like him?

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Chapter 54: Do I really...like him?

Elijah’s pov ;

I observed Ash in his slumber, his features still marked by the aftermath of his recent breakdown. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from tears, and faint trails of water glistened on his rosy cheeks. Though his hiccups had ceased, a deep furrow remained etched between his brows. My gaze drifted to our entwined hands which he was holding tightly even in his unconscious state.

Seeing him like this, so fragile and broken subconsciously ignites a fierce emotion inside me. It felt so overwhelming and alongside it, I felt a heavy sense of guilt and a bitter truth that I was unable to find him soon. Again.

I broke the promise I made myself when I rescued him from that motel.

"Elijah, the doctor is here."

As the worn door creaked open, the doctor entered with Noah and my heart fluttered with trepidation. The doctor gave me a nod of acknowledgment before addressing me. "I need to check on Ash. Please step aside."

My anxiety flared in my chest at the thought of leaving Ash’s side, even for a small moment. "Can you please check him while I’m here? I don’t want to be away from him, not even for a second."

The doctor paused, studying my expression before agreeing. "Very well, I’ll examine him here."

I watched intently as the doctor checked him. After a few moments, he looked up at me with a serious expression. The doctors had already examined Ash and the final report is all left now.

"It seems that Ash was triggered by the news of your accident. Triggers like this can cause intense reactions, especially if there is a history of trauma. It could be something from his past or childhood that resurfaced with the news. His current state suggests a severe emotional response, possibly linked to a significant event in his past."

I listened carefully, trying to process the information. "So what exactly happens when these triggers occur?"

The doctor sighed. "When someone experiences a traumatic event, certain triggers can bring back the intense emotions and memories associated with that trauma. It’s almost like reliving the event. In Ash’s case, hearing about your accident might have reminded him of a past incident, causing his mind and body to react as if it were happening again. This can lead to panic, confusion, and physical symptoms like difficulty breathing or chest pain."

Did Ash really have a panic attack because he heard about my accident? I felt numb from all the thoughts in my head. How come I never knew that he had trauma from the accident of my parents? Is it because he feels guilty for killing them?

The doctor’s voice pulled me back to reality. "I need to inform you that Ash also struggles with depression and anxiety. These conditions can intensify his reactions to stress and trauma."

My heart felt like it was being crushed by a heavy weight. Depression and anxiety? It seemed impossible, but at the same time, it made perfect sense. But how come I had been so blind to never realise these symptoms of his?

Was I so focused on my anger and thirst for revenge that I couldn’t see his deteriorating health?

Do I really want to hurt so badly that I could lend them to a hospital and give him severe depression? Have I stooped so low?

But he killed my parents and I promised myself to destroy him? So why do I feel like such a despicable bastard now? Is this what I wanted? To see him broken and fragile?

Feel happy, you bastard, I cursed myself silently. I felt like the lowest scum on earth.

I couldn’t escape the overwhelming guilt gnawing at my conscience. I had stolen everything from him—his job, his career, his company. But in the heat of my revenge, I never once considered the impact it would have on him.

Watching him suffer, every pang of pain he endured all this time from me felt like a sucker punch to my gut. But I always pushed it aside, convincing myself that it was justified for the sake of my plan.

But now, seeing him in this state, so vulnerable and shattered, it felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I don’t want to see him like this. I want to see that smile of his. I want to hear his complaints and grumbling.

The doctor’s voice broke through my thoughts. "It’s important for Ash to receive ongoing support. He may need therapy to help manage his triggers and mental health conditions. Your emotional presence can make all the difference. So, please take care of him."

I’m not aware of his past, but I’m sure he got depressed after I started my revenge on him. In three years of our marriage. He never bothered me, never complained about anything so I took it for granted. I thought as long as he was married to me just like how his father wanted I don’t have to trouble myself with him. Whether we act like a real couple or not.

And I was also so sure that he wouldn’t ever walk out of this marriage. So, when he suddenly asked for a divorce I saw red. For the first time, I realised that there was a chance that I could lose him. Where he might walked out of our marriage.

The thought scared and angered me. The cage I created around him, he decided to open it himself. I panicked thinking he was fed up with that marriage and wanted to find someone else. I felt extremely jealous.

The doctor turned to me, concern etched deeply onto his wrinkled face. The lines around his eyes and mouth deepened as he observed the injury on my forehead. "You should also get your dressing changed."

I shook my head stubbornly, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through my forehead with every movement. "I’m fine," I lied, not wanting to leave Ash’s side.

The doctor’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before finally nodding. But I could see the worry still present in his eyes. "Okay, but make sure to get it checked soon."

As the doctor left, a wave of regret crashed over me like a tidal wave. If only I wasn’t so suspicious and paranoid about Ash if only I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and assumed the worst.

My mind raced back to the events that had led to this moment. How I had called Ash, but he hadn’t picked up. I called Noah, who had told me that Ash wasn’t with him. In a panic, I rushed out of my office and got into a small accident that now seemed insignificant compared to everything else going on.

And before I could stop him, Noah told Ash about it all.

My whole body cringed at the vivid recollection of Ash’s piercing screams and cries, echoing off the walls as he lay on the floor in the middle of the crowd. The sound of his screams and cries pained me more than my own injuries.

"You need to rest. I’ll stay here with Ash." Noah suggested.

I shook my head fiercely, my grasp on Ash’s hand tightening. "No, I can’t leave him. I won’t."

After a brief hesitation, Noah nodded in understanding. "At least change your clothes. Seeing those bloodstains will only cause Ash more distress."

I sighed. "Alright."

"I’ll take care of the paperwork," He let out before leaving.

Not wanting to release his hand, I used my free one to call Daniel to ask him to bring me some clean clothes and desserts. I want something to cheer him up when he wakes up.

My fingers traced across his soft cheeks, lips, and chin tenderly, marvelling at his breathtaking beauty that never ceased to amaze me.

Do I really...like him?

When did I begin to develop feelings for him? Or worse, was I just denying my attraction to him all along because of the blame I associated with him over my parents’ deaths?

It’s not like I wasn’t attractive to him before and just realising it. I had always found him attractive, undeniably so. But all this time I just tried to convince myself that he’s nothing more than a toy to me. That’s how I forced myself to believe.

However, now no matter how much I deny this fact, he’s someone I cared about deeply, someone I wanted to protect and cherish.

But when did he become so important to me? Or had he always been important, and I simply refused to acknowledge it? He had always held a special place in my heart, even before I think about my revenge.

I watched him stir slightly, his long, elegant fingers tightening around mine. The guilt and affection waged a war inside me, causing my heart to ache with conflicting emotions. How had it taken me this long to see what was right in front of me?

But can I really forgive him?