[BL] Dear Hushand, I want divorce-Chapter 99: A wrong way of meeting

For the next few days Ash’s days slipped by in a quiet monotony. Each morning he rose with the sun, helped Grandpa with the strawberries, and each night he would retreat to bed, burying the memories of his past deep within him. There was no sign of Elijah—no unexpected encounters, no confrontations. Life remained simple, calm, almost too quiet.

Maybe it wasn’t him, Ash thought. Maybe Elijah hadn’t come here at all. The fleeting hopes of seeing him again had stirred something in Ash that he wasn’t ready to confront. But now, as the days passed and nothing happened, he felt torn. Was he disappointed that Elijah hadn’t come? Or relieved? He couldn’t tell.

He’s not sure whether he should feel happy or sad, relieved or disappointed.

One afternoon, as Ash packed some leftover strawberries into crates, Grandpa shuffled over, pulling out a worn leather wallet. "Hey, boy," the old man grumbled, "You need some new clothes. You’ve been walking around in the same rags for weeks."

Ash smiled faintly and shook his head. "No, Grandpa, I’m fine. The clothes here are good enough for me."

Grandpa squinted at him, unimpressed. "You call that fine?" He slapped the back of Ash’s shoulder hard, making him wince. "Take this money and go to the shops on the main road. They’ve got stylish stuff there, something that’ll make you look half-decent."

Ash’s heart raced, his stomach tightening at the mention of the main road. That road led right past the luxurious hotel—the one where he feared Elijah might still be. His palms began to sweat as the thought struck him like a hammer.

He tried to sound casual as he replied, "I-I think the village shops are just fine for me, Grandpa. No need to go to the main road."

Grandpa raised an eyebrow, giving Ash a stern look. "What’s the matter with you, boy? The shops here don’t have a decent selection. If you keep buying from them, you’ll end up looking like an old farmer!" He crossed his arms, frustrated by Ash’s resistance. "Stop acting like a coward. Go on and get yourself something nice for once!"

Ash bit his lip, trying to think of an excuse, but nothing came. The fear of running into Elijah paralyzed him. He didn’t want to confront those feelings, to potentially see the man who haunted his dreams. "I’ll think about it," Ash muttered.

Grandpa huffed but didn’t push any further. "You better. I don’t want to see you walking around looking like you’ve been dragged through a hedge."

Ash forced a smile, but inside, his mind was whirling.

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange when Grandpa practically shoved Ash out the door. "Go on, boy! Kian is waiting for you, and don’t come back until you’ve bought some decent clothes!" Grandpa’s voice was firm, leaving Ash with no choice but to head to the main road with Kian in tow.

Ash’s anxiety flared with each step closer to the stylish shops that Grandpa had recommended.

The closer they got, the more restless Ash became, his heart racing at the thought of potentially running into Elijah. He couldn’t focus on anything else. His palms were sweating, and his breath came in short bursts, his eyes darting around as if Elijah might appear out of nowhere, like a ghost from his past.

Every step felt heavier than the last, and Ash felt eyes on him. But it wasn’t something new. It had been like this for days now—a strange, persistent sensation that someone was watching him. He could feel eyes on him whether it’s when he’s in the field, in the market or even coming back to home.

But each time he glanced around, there was no one there. It made his nerves even worse, but he brushed it off. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

When they finally reached the shop, Ash’s mind was still clouded with unease. He barely noticed the friendly saleswoman approach them, her bright smile contrasting sharply with the heavy mood that seemed to cling to Ash.

"Hello! What can I help you gentlemen with today?" she asked cheerfully, her gaze shifting between Ash and Kian.

Kian, ever the awkward giant, stiffened under her gaze. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and when Ash didn’t respond, lost in his own world, Kian shifted uncomfortably. His eyes flickered from the salesgirl to Ash, unsure of what to say.

After a long pause, he finally pointed at Ash and muttered, "Uh...he’s the one buying, not me."

The saleswoman blinked in surprise and chuckled softly. "Alright," she said, clearly amused. She turned her attention back to Ash. "So, what kind of clothes are you looking for?"

Ash snapped out of his thoughts for a moment, his eyes wide as if he had just been woken from a dream.

"Oh...uh..." He stammered, still not fully present. His gaze was distant, flitting toward the entrance of the shop as if expecting Elijah to walk through at any moment.

Kian cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "He’s...not sure," he offered quietly, trying to fill the silence. "But...maybe something comfortable?"

Ash nodded absently, still scanning the street outside, feeling as if that invisible presence was closing in on him. Every instinct screamed at him to leave, to run back to the safety of the village. But he forced himself to stay rooted in place, even as his nerves frayed at the edges.

The saleswoman, sensing the strange tension, smiled kindly. "No worries. I’ll pick out a few options, and you can try them on. How does that sound?" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Ash gave a small, tight smile in response, unable to shake the unsettling feeling that Elijah was near—too near for comfort.

Ash’s unease only grew as he continued to shop. And the unease feeling of someone watching him was back. The persistent feeling that someone was watching him never left his mind. He kept his head down, trying to focus on the clothes the saleswoman was showing him, but it was no use. His heart raced, his eyes darting around, searching for any sign of Elijah.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the shop, followed by frantic yelling.

"Everyone, stay back! Get away from the glass!" a sales clerk shouted, her voice shaking with panic.

Ash’s heart leapt into his throat as he looked up. A massive glass panel, part of the shop’s ceiling display, was coming loose, swaying dangerously above where Ash and Kian were standing.

"Keep the kids safe!" someone shouted as chaos broke out, people scrambling to get away from the danger zone.

Ash’s body moved on instinct. He pushed Kian hard, sending him tumbling to the other side, out of the way of the falling glass. His heart pounded in his chest as he stood frozen in place, unable to move. The glass creaked loudly, and Ash closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.

His heart raced as the glass above him creaked and groaned, ready to fall at any moment. The sound was deafening. People were screaming, running for safety, but Ash remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the impending disaster. His eyes squeezed shut, bracing himself for the inevitable, the sound of cracking glass getting louder.

But then, over the chaos, he heard it—his name, screamed with a mix of terror and desperation.

"Ash!"

A split second later, a heavy force slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. It wasn’t the glass, but a body—strong and solid, shielding him as the world seemed to collapse around them. The deafening crash of the glass shattering echoed in his ears, the weight of another person pressing him hard into the cold floor.

Time slowed. Ash could hear the screams fading as people retreated to safety, but the warmth of the body above him never left. The glass that should have torn him apart lay scattered around them. His heart was pounding in his ears. His breath came out in short, panicked bursts.

He hesitated before opening his eyes, dreading what he would see. Slowly, he blinked, his gaze locking onto a familiar, bloodied face.

"Elijah?" Ash’s voice came out as a broken whisper, his mind struggling to comprehend the sight before him.

Elijah lay on top of him, his body shielding Ash from the debris. Blood trickled down Elijah’s face, staining his pale skin, his eyes barely open, unfocused. His shirt was torn, the exposed skin underneath marked by deep cuts and bruises where the glass had hit him.

"Elijah!" Ash’s voice broke in panic. His hands flew to Elijah’s face, shaking him desperately. "Elijah! Wake up!"

Elijah’s lips moved faintly, but no sound came out. His breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

"Elijah!" Ash yelled, his heart hammering against his ribs. He could feel the heat of Elijah’s blood on his hands, the warmth of his body slowly draining away. His throat tightened with fear as he watched the colour drain from Elijah’s face, his eyes slipping shut.

"No...no, no, no..." Ash’s voice cracked as he fought back the tears. "Don’t you dare...don’t you...again!"

But Elijah’s body went limp, collapsing fully onto Ash as his strength gave out. Ash’s breath hitched in his throat as he felt the full weight of Elijah’s unconscious form pressing down on him.

The panic was overwhelming, flooding Ash’s chest as he tried to push Elijah up, trying to get him to respond. "Help!" Ash screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "Somebody help me!"

People rushed forward, the commotion stirring again as employees and customers finally noticed the disaster unfolding. Two men grabbed Elijah and carefully lifted him off of Ash, laying him down on the floor.

Ash scrambled to his knees, his vision blurry with tears as he hovered over Elijah’s still body. His hands trembled as they hovered just inches above Elijah’s face, afraid to touch him, afraid that he might be hurt even more.

His mind spun wildly. This can’t be real. How can this be real? He was supposed to be gone. He wasn’t supposed to come back.

Elijah’s blood smeared Ash’s hands as he stared down at him, the horrifying reality of the situation settling in.

His mind screamed for answers, but none came. All Ash knew was the deep, overwhelming fear that he might lose Elijah again.