[BL] A Marriage Ruled by Family, Saved by Desire Chapter 26: Miles Away, Still Mine

~Alistair’s POV~

I sat up, the duvet slipping to my waist, and t his gaze. "Babe, since I’m not traveling with you, I’ve decided I’ll go with you to the airport tomorrow."

The mont the words left my mouth, I saw the shift in him. Alex didn’t answer imdiately; his expression clouded, and a heavy silence stretched between us. He just watched , listening to the unspoken worry behind my suggestion, before he finally took a slow breath and reached for my hands.

"Babe, listen to ," he said softly, his voice grounded. "You don’t need to co to the airport. I want you to stay here, rest, and relax. Trust , please. I know exactly why you want to go. I know you’re worried about my mother and the girl she’s bringing. But you have to believe when I say I’ve got this."

I studied his face for a mont, ready to argue and insist on standing beside him, but sothing in his expression stopped . It wasn’t distance, it was concern. He wasn’t pushing away; he was trying to protect from his mother’s poison and the humiliation waiting there.

Finally, I let out a defeated sigh and nodded. "Okay, baby. If that’s what you want."

"Thank you," he murmured, relief softening his features. He leaned in and brushed a quick kiss over my lips before straightening. Reaching for my hand, he helped out of bed. "Go shower," he added gently. "Wake yourself up properly so we can have breakfast together."

I slipped out of bed, every muscle still humming with the aftereffects of the night before, and made my way to the bathroom. The long, warm shower helped clear my head, and once I was done, we headed downstairs.

We had breakfast together, and it was perfect, as it always was. My husband was truly the best chef I knew; every bite was a quiet reminder of how deeply he cared for . When we finished the last of the al, we moved into the living room, settling into the comfort of the oversized sofa.

Alex pulled onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist as if he wanted to rge our bodies into one. For a while, we didn’t talk. We just existed in that quiet, sun-drenched space.

The rest of the day was perfect. True to his word, Alex pushed everything else aside. He didn’t answer a single business email or glance at his phone once.

Every mont was spent focused on , as though he were committing my face to mory to carry with him across the ocean. We stayed wrapped in each other’s presence, savoring every second together before the quiet of the weekend settled in.

The next morning, the house felt heavy with a waiting silence. Before leaving for the airport, Alex insisted we have breakfast together. We sat across from each other at the table, his hand wrapped around mine the entire ti, as if letting go was the hardest part for him.

When the driver finally pulled into the driveway, Alex cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over my cheekbones.

"I’ll call you every chance I get," he promised softly. "The mont I land, you’ll be the first person I call."

He sealed the promise with a kiss that lingered, sweet, tasting of goodbye.

Once the car vanished down the road, the house felt too big and unbearably quiet. I retreated to our bedroom, his cologne still clinging to the pillows, and spent the day curled under the duvet, staring at my phone as if I could will it to ring.

At noon, the maid knocked softly and left a tray of lunch on the table, but I didn’t touch it. The food went cold as my appetite vanished with him. My stomach stayed knotted, my thoughts stretched across the ocean, following him every mile of the way.

Finally, the screen lit up, buzzing against the mattress. I reached for it instantly, my heart jumping as I did.

"Baby!" I gasped the mont the video connected.

Alex’s face filled the screen. He looked tired, his hair slightly mussed from the long flight, but his eyes brightened the mont he saw . He was already inside his hotel suite.

"Hey, beautiful," he breathed, a relieved smile breaking across his tired face. "I told you I’d call the second I walked through the door. I knew you’d be sitting there worrying yourself sick, but I’m here. I’m fine."

He adjusted the cara, and I could see the plush interior of the room behind him. But my eyes were searching for sothing else. "Are you alone, Alex? Is anyone else in there?"

"Just , babe. Look," he said softly. He stood up and began to walk around the suite, panning the cara to show the empty sitting area, the vacant bathroom, and the large, solitary bed. "See? No one here but . Now, tell ... have you eaten?"

I bit my lip, leaning my chin on my knees. "I wasn’t hungry. I was just... waiting for you."

Alex’s expression turned serious, though his eyes stayed gentle. "Alis, it’s late. You need to eat. Don’t hang up this call. Take with you, go downstairs, or call the maid and get sothing light. I’m staying right here until I see you eat sothing."

"I’m really not—"

"Go, Alis. For ," he urged.

Only after seeing the empty room did the knot in my stomach finally loosen enough for hunger to surface. I carried my phone downstairs, the screen showing Alex seated at a small desk in his suite as he opened his own room-service tray. We ate together, separated by thousands of miles, yet sharing a quiet al through the soft glow of the screen.

After we finished eating, I went back upstairs. I propped my phone on the bathroom counter while I showered, and he did the sa on his end, steam fogging the glass as we watched each other through the screen. It was silent, intimate, and comforting.

When I finally crawled back into our bed, I propped the phone on the pillow where his head usually rested, his face filling the screen beside . I watched his eyes grow heavy as he spoke, his voice low and steady, soothing enough to lull toward sleep. I didn’t even notice when my eyelids began to drift closed.

The last thing I rembered was him still there on the screen, watching until my breathing evened out, making sure I wasn’t alone as I slipped into sleep.

The next morning, the silence in the house pressed down on like a weight. I reached for my phone before my eyes were even fully open, but the screen was empty, no missed calls, no ssages, only the dull glow of my wallpaper staring back at . I tried calling Alex three tis throughout the afternoon, each attempt disappearing into the hollow echo of his voicemail.

By evening, my worry had hardened into a cold, sharp anxiety. I got dressed for Roman’s party in a haze, my fingers clumsy as I fastened the buttons of my shirt. Once I was ready, the driver took straight to the venue.

The mont I arrived, I was swallowed by bright lights and loud music, the noise making my head ache. The gathering was already full, people clustered in small groups, laughing and talking over the pounding sound. I spotted Roman among them and handed him the neatly wrapped box I’d picked up on the way.

"Happy birthday, Roman," I said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

"Alis! Glad you made it, man!" he shouted over the music, but my attention had already drifted past him, my thumb absentmindedly swiping over my phone screen again and again.

I hovered in a corner, the vibrant energy of the room feeling miles away. I stared at his mother’s contact info, my finger trembling over the ’call’ button, but I pulled back. I knew how she’d love to hear the desperation in my voice. I was a wreck.

"You look like you’re waiting for a ghost," Roman’s voice cut through my thoughts. He leaned against the wall beside , eyeing my phone with a cynical smirk. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure," I muttered, tucking the device into my pocket.

"Bullshit," Roman said coldly, leaning against the railing to block my view of the party. "You’ve been moping since you walked in. What’s going on? Trouble in paradise? Did your husband finally flake on you?"

I tried to brush him off, but he kept digging, his questions becoming sharper, more prying. Finally, the wall broke. I needed to vent, and in a mont of weakness, I gave him a brief, hushed explanation about the trip, the silence, and the woman his mother had forced into the picture.

Roman’s expression shifted from curiosity to sothing sharper, edged with cynical pity. He took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze drifting around the room before returning to .

"Look, Alis," he said quietly, "you’re stressing over a man who’s thousands of miles away. Do you really think he’s sitting alone in a hotel room feeling guilty? His mother hand-picked a woman for him. n are still n, especially when they’re ’working’ abroad."

He leaned in closer, his voice sinking into a low, poisonous murmur. "Don’t be the loyal little house-husband glued to your phone while he’s potentially enjoying the ’company’ his mother lined up for him. Look around," he said, gesturing subtly toward the room. "Look at this party. Look at those girls over there. Why should you be the only one suffering? You have no idea what he’s doing over there. You might as well stop hurting yourself and enjoy the night too."

I stared at him...