[BL] Dear Hushand, I want divorce-Chapter 86: Truth is out

Elijah’s pov ;

Ash pushed me away, his eyes filled with fear and betrayal. Before I could say another word, he ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. I immediately followed, banging on the door, "Ash, open the door! Please, just talk to me!"

But there was only silence from the other side.

My mind raced as I stood there, helpless. Everything was beginning to make sense to him now, I could see it in his eyes before he shut himself away. My past actions—the coldness, the distance, the rage—it was all falling into place for him. My revenge, my hatred, all of it was connected to that night, to the accident that took my parents away from me.

And now, I could see that he believed he was the one responsible.

"Ash, please! Let me explain!" I shouted, my voice shaking. But there was no response.

He must be putting it all together now. All the times I was distant, the moments I treated him with disdain, the way I seemed to hate him but still stayed close.

I rested my forehead against the door, my fists clenched. He must be thinking that my entire relationship with him was built on lies and vengeance. That every time I looked at him with anything other than love, it was because I blamed him for what happened to my parents which I actually did. He must think that every touch, every kiss I gave him was part of my cruel revenge to punish him.

"Ash, you’re not responsible," I whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear me. "I don’t blame you anymore, love. Come out and we can just talk it out. I know there’s a reason why all of that happened. So, come out and tell me, baby!"

But how could he believe that now? How could he trust anything I said when everything pointed to the fact that I hated him for something he might not even remember doing?

And worse, he might be thinking that I had always known, that I had been waiting for this moment to destroy him. For which, I couldn’t even blame him because there was a moment when my thoughts were exactly like that.

I wanted to destroy him.

"Ash, I’m sorry," I said, my voice cracking. "I’m so sorry for everything."

But there was no answer, just the suffocating silence from behind the door. And all I could do was wait, hoping that somehow, I could find the words to make him understand that he was never the monster in this story. That the real monster had been me, blinded by my own pain, too consumed by anger to see the truth.

All those years, I had been running from the truth, using him as a scapegoat for my grief. And now, that truth was crashing down around us both, threatening to tear us apart just when we had finally found each other. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

"Ash! Open the door!"

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Ash’s pov ;

I slammed the door behind me, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing with the realisation that everything was a lie. I stumbled to the sink, gripping the edge as if it were the only thing keeping me upright. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger—eyes wide, face pale, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Elijah knew. He had known all along.

Everything began to make sense now. The way he looked at me sometimes, like he was barely holding back his disgust. The moments of coldness, the way he distanced himself just when I thought we were getting close. It wasn’t because of me, not entirely. It was because of what I’d done, or what he thought I’d done.

My thoughts spun out of control. The accident...the one I’d tried so hard to forget, the one that had left me with scars I couldn’t see but felt every single day. I killed his parents. That’s why he hated me, why he was always so distant even when he was right there with me. The truth hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of me.

He took revenge on me. That’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? Every moment we spent together, every time he touched me, kissed me...was it all just part of some cruel plan to make me pay? Was that why he stayed with me, even after everything? To make sure I never forgot what I’d done, to punish me for taking away the people he loved?

I pressed my hands against my ears, trying to block out the sound of his voice, but it was impossible. I could hear him on the other side of the door, shouting for me to open it, to talk to him. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t face him.

My mind flashed back to the phone call. The voice on the other end told me that Elijah knew everything. She said I was a murderer, that I had taken the lives of two innocent people—Elijah’s parents—because I was reckless because I didn’t care.

How could I face him now? How could I look into his eyes knowing that I was the reason for his pain, the reason he lost the people who meant everything to him? And worse, how could I believe that he still doesn’t hate me, that every moment of his kindness right now wasn’t to make me suffer?

I felt sick, my stomach churning with guilt and fear. I wanted to disappear, to escape from this nightmare, but there was nowhere to go. I was trapped here in this room, just like I had been for years, caught in a web of lies and half-truths that were finally unravelling around me.

He knew. He knew everything, and still, he stayed with me. Why? Was it out of pity? Or was it something darker, something I couldn’t even begin to comprehend?

"Ash?!"

I heard him again, his voice softer this time, pleading with me to open the door, to let him explain. But what was there to explain? I was a monster, just like they said. And now, the one person I thought I could trust, the one person who had stayed by my side, was probably thinking the same thing.

A sob escaped my throat, and I covered my mouth, trying to stifle the sound. I didn’t want him to hear me cry, didn’t want him to see how broken I really was. But it was too late. Everything was too late.

He knew. And now, he would leave me. How could he stay knowing that I had killed his parents, taken them from him in the most brutal way possible?

I slid down to the floor, my back against the door, curling into myself as the tears kept coming. There was no escape from this, no way to undo what had been done. And the worst part was, I didn’t even remember doing it. But that didn’t matter, did it? The result was the same. I had taken away everything he loved, and now he was going to do the same to me.

I closed my eyes, wishing I could turn back time, wishing I could change the past, wishing I could make it all go away.

And all I could do was wait for the inevitable—wait for him to leave me, to hate me, to punish me for what I had done. Because I deserved it. I deserved every bit of pain that was coming my way.

How could I ever make that right? How could I ever atone for something so unforgivable? The answer was simple: I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do to bring them back, nothing I could say to erase the pain I had caused. But there was one thing I could do. I could let Elijah go. I could leave him, give him the freedom he deserved, the chance to find happiness without being tied to the person who had destroyed his world.

It was the only thing that made sense.

Elijah was a strong man, and resilient. He would survive without me—he might even thrive. And I...well, I would disappear, just as I should have done years ago. I didn’t belong in his life.

I thought back to the moments we’d shared, the times when I’d felt like maybe, just maybe, I could be happy again. But those moments were fleeting, tainted by the darkness that always lurked just beneath the surface. How could I have ever thought I deserved them? Deserved him?

Leaving was the right thing to do. It was the only way to make amends, to try and give him a chance at peace. I would go somewhere far away, where he couldn’t find me, where I couldn’t hurt him anymore. Maybe then, he could heal. Maybe then, he could finally let go of his hatred, his anger. Because no matter how hard he tried to hide it, I knew it was still there. How could it not be?

I pushed myself up, forcing my shaky legs to hold me as I moved away from the door. My reflection in the mirror was pitiful—eyes swollen from crying, face pale and drawn. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore. What mattered was getting out of here, leaving before I caused any more damage.

But even as I made up my mind, a deep sense of loss settled in my chest. I didn’t want to leave him. God, I don’t. I wanted to stay, to fight for whatever scraps of happiness we could find together. But that was selfish. Staying with Elijah would only bring him more pain, more reminders of what I had done.

I took a deep breath, I would find a way out of here, out of his life, and I would never look back. He deserves better. He deserves so much more than someone like me.

The guilt was overwhelming, but it was also clear. This was my penance, my punishment for the lives I had taken. I had always felt guilty for the accident, but knowing now that they were Elijah’s parents made the remorse almost unbearable. So, I have to let him go, even if it breaks me in the process.

Because I couldn’t live with myself if I stayed, knowing what I had done.

This was the only way.

With that thought, I began to plan my escape.