[BL] Dear Hushand, I want divorce-Chapter 61: He must stay by my side

Elijah’s pov ;

With a gentle sigh, I reached over and clicked off the bedside lamp. The room was plunged into darkness, save for the soft moonlight that filtered through the curtains. I nestled myself closer to him, seeking solace in his warmth.

My head found its resting place on his pillow as I exhaled an exhausted deep breath. I closed my eyes and nuzzled deeper into his hair.

But I know even in my dreams, he would haunt me. His face, his voice, his words. The ache in my heart only grew stronger as I slept.

Why is this so difficult? Why can’t I just express how I feel?

I chastised myself for feeling so insecure about something as simple as this. After all, this wasn’t high school anymore; I was an adult who should be capable of handling rejection with grace and maturity. And yet here I was, lying awake and overthinking every little detail.

But then again, he hadn’t rejected me or avoided me. He simply said he was tired and wanted to sleep. So why was I making such a big deal out of it?

I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing thoughts. Perhaps I was overreacting after all.

No, scratch that. I definitely was overreacting.

It’s not a big deal. We have plenty of time. There’s no need to rush.

But even as these thoughts ran through my mind, a small part of me remained unconvinced.

I don’t feel angry, and I’m not feeling offended or upset. Rather, I feel...

Sad?

Hurt?

I felt rejected. No matter how much I convince myself, I indeed feel rejected.

This feeling is so foreign, so unfamiliar to me. Throughout my life, I have always approached challenges with determination and a strong will. Defeat and rejection were simply not options for me. I would do whatever it took to achieve my goals, using any means necessary.

In the past, I would have forced him to do what I wanted. I would have ordered him, tortured him, or resorted to blackmail or threats to get my way. The thought of manipulating and hurting someone did not faze me.

But now, the mere idea of forcing him didn’t even cross my mind. The thought of causing harm was unbearable.

A sharp pain pierced through my chest, spreading throughout my entire body. It frightened me how much my own emotions could affect me now.

This is why I always avoided love.

I don’t like feeling helpless, and that’s exactly what love does. It makes you vulnerable and weak.

It forces you to question yourself and your actions.

And above all else, it makes you dependent on someone else’s feelings and choices.

Dependent on that one person.

The weight of it makes you question yourself, your choices, and your very existence. And most of all, it creates a reliance on that one person who holds the key to your happiness. But when they leave, it feels like the world is crumbling around you; a fragile facade shattered into a million pieces.

I never wanted to experience this feeling of entrapment by another’s emotions. I didn’t want to be weak, to lose control.

But that’s exactly what is happening right now. I’m feeling this deep pain just from a small rejection, and it’s driving me crazy.

Involuntarily, my gaze fixates on his sleeping face. My fingers lightly brush against his skin, as if afraid to disturb him. The softness of his features, the warmth emanating from his breath - it all soothes me yet overwhelms me at the same time.

I lean closer until our faces are mere inches apart. His breathing tickles my nose, each gentle exhale sending shivers down my spine. I could feel his presence, his energy, his very essence enveloping me, wrapping around me, engulfing me. It was intoxicating. It was addictive. It was hypnotic.

My heart thrummed like a drum in my chest, a physical manifestation of the intense heat that radiated through my body. His alluring presence was so powerful that it was difficult to resist. Every fibre of my being yearned to press my lips against his, to claim him as mine.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do anything while he slept, vulnerable and unaware.

So I simply gazed at his face, etching every contour and curve into my memory. The freckles sprinkled across his skin, the way his eyelashes fanned out against his cheek, the individual strands of hair that framed his face - I had committed them all to memory.

That’s how deep my obsession for him ran. And that’s how much he affected me.

It’s why I’ve always been afraid of falling in love. Because when you love someone, you become susceptible to pain. You give them the power to hurt you.

You open yourself up to rejection, heartache, and vulnerability.

I had never experienced this kind of vulnerability before. I had always kept people at arm’s length, never allowing anyone to get close enough to hurt me.

But somehow, he managed to break down my walls and reach a part of me I didn’t even know existed. He made me feel things I had never felt before, and it both terrified and excited me.

After the loss of my parents, I made a solemn promise to myself that I would never let anyone get close enough to hurt me again. I built walls around my heart and convinced myself that I would never fall in love again.

But as I look at him now, all of my promises and fears seem to fade away. His emotions pierces through my defences and I find myself slowly giving in to the feelings that I have been trying so hard to suppress.

I can feel myself falling for him, and it scares me. The thought of opening up and being powerless again terrifies me, but I can’t help it.

My heart skips a beat at the realisation of what I am feeling. The fear of being rejected or losing him is enough to make me shiver.

And deep down, I know that my worst fears may one day come true. He may leave me just like my parents did because why would he stay with someone like me who has caused him so much pain?

I have done terrible things to him. I have hurt him and broken him in ways that I never thought possible. And even though I have tried to change and be better, the fact remains that I have done unspeakable things.

Why would he choose to love me when he knows the real me? How could he forgive me when I have caused him so much pain?

Those questions are eating me alive.

I couldn’t help but wonder if happily ever afters were meant for someone like me. Will I end up alone and heartbroken, destined to watch others find love while I remain an outsider?

I closed my eyes, pushing those negative thoughts away. Instead, I reached out and pulled him closer to my side, his warm body fitting perfectly against mine. His steady breaths filled my ears as he slept peacefully.

I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, taking in the smell of his shampoo that never failed to make me feel comforted. Holding him like this, so close and secure, felt like a small piece of heaven.

But even in this moment of contentment, the fear of not being enough for him lingered. Would he eventually leave me for someone better?

I didn’t know what the future held for us, but one thing was certain. I would do everything in my power to make him stay because I couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving me.

I don’t think I could handle that.

So, he must stay.

_______________

Next morning ;

"Why are you staring at me?" Ash’s soft voice snapped me out of my daze.

"Just thinking."

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to elaborate.

"About?" he prompted.

"How cute you are," I teased him playfully, earning an eye roll.

"Shut up," he huffed coldly, trying and failing to hide his blush.

"You’re cute when you’re mad too," I grinned, enjoying his reaction.

"I said, shut up," his glare deepened, the effect ruined by his reddening cheeks.

"I’m just being honest," I shrugged, unable to suppress a chuckle. "What? It’s a crime to compliment my husband?"

A pout forming on his lips as he glared at me though it quickly disappeared when his stomach grumbled loudly.

His face reddened, and his expression became mortified and his eyes widened in embarrassment.

"Hungry, huh?" I chuckled, enjoying his flustered state. He didn’t say anything and turned his face away from me. I got up from my chair while he stayed seated from where he was reading a book. "Wait here, I’ll cook you something."

I made my way to the kitchen and instead of waiting for me in the dining room, he followed me. His footsteps were soft and almost silent, and I was sure that if it wasn’t for the squeaking of the wooden floorboards, I wouldn’t have heard him.

I opened the refrigerator and took out some eggs and vegetables. Ash watched me curiously as I began chopping the vegetables.

"You know how to cook? He asked in surprise.