[BL] A Marriage Ruled by Family, Saved by Desire Chapter 51: Moments Between Chaos

~Alistair’s POV~

"No, baby, please—" He reached out, his hand trembling as he tried to bridge the gap between us, his fingers ghosting toward my arm.

"Don’t you dare touch ," I snapped. The words were sharp, hitting him with the force of a physical blow.

He flinched, pulling his hand back as if he’d been burned. He stood there, hovering in the center of the room, looking utterly lost.

"Alis... please," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Don’t leave . If you go back to your parents’ house... I won’t... I won’t get to see you. I can’t... I can’t fall asleep without you next to ."

"Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before you let Sarah into our lives," I shot back. "Don’t forget, you slept with her, and now she’s carrying your child. I’m sure you’ll be sleeping just fine without ."

He opened his mouth to protest, his face draining of color, but my phone cut him off. Andrew’s na flashed across the screen, and a genuine smile curved my lips. I didn’t hesitate, I answered imdiately.

"I’m at the estate gates, Alis," Andrew said, his voice a calm contrast to the chaos in this room.

"I’ll be there in a minute," I replied. "Just hang on."

I grabbed my wallet and slipped into my coat, heading for the door. I was halfway there when Alex’s voice stopped . "What about our anniversary? It’s in three days, Alis... you can’t..."

I paused, hand on the doorknob, and glanced back at him over my shoulder. I offered a cool, polite nod. "Go ahead and arrange it. Send the location, and I’ll save it in my calendar. Wouldn’t want to forget."

I watched the hope flicker in his eyes for a split second before I extinguished it.

"I’ll try to create so ti in my schedule to show up," I added, my tone making it clear that our anniversary was now just another chore on my list.

With that, I walked out, leaving him standing in the middle of our bedroom, surrounded by the ruins of a marriage he had failed to protect.

When I stepped into the living room, the air felt thick with deceit. Alex’s mother and Sarah were huddled together, but the mont she looked up and saw hurrying toward the door, she straightened in her seat and spoke.

"Where are you rushing off to, Alistair?" She asked, her voice laced with the sharp maternal authority she so loved to wield.

I forced a tight, polite mask onto my face. "I’m eting a friend."

"I see," she replied, not even bothering to ask who. She didn’t care about my life; she only cared about the optics. "Well, don’t be back late."

"Alright," I said shortly, swinging the door open and stepping out into the crisp morning air.

As the heavy oak door clicked shut behind , I paused beneath the grand entrance, half-expecting it to swing open again,

As the heavy oak door clicked shut behind , a hollow ache settled deep in my chest. I paused beneath the grand entrance, the silence pressing in, half-expecting the door to burst open. I waited for Alex to co running after , to grab my arm, to plead one last ti, to refuse to let walk away.

But the house stayed quiet.

I glanced down at my phone. No frantic ssages. No missed calls.

A chill crept through , and it had nothing to do with the weather.

Is he giving up on too?

I lingered there a second longer, staring at the entrance as if it might still change its mind. Then I forced myself to look away.

I walked down the driveway to where Andrew was waiting. We exchanged a brief, warm greeting, and I climbed into the passenger seat. As he pulled away from the estate, I leaned my head against the window, watching the house shrink in the rearview mirror.

I was so lost in the wreckage of my thoughts that I barely heard Andrew speaking. It wasn’t until he gently touched my arm that I snapped back to the present.

"What did you say?" I asked quickly.

He studied for a mont. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I replied automatically, then frowned slightly. "What were you asking?"

He glanced toward the house before looking back at . "Was that your family ho? Or were you just visiting soone?"

I forced a smile, careful to keep my voice steady. "It’s my family ho," I replied. It was easier than admitting I was trapped in a gilded cage, sharing a roof with the man who had broken .

He seed poised to ask more, probably curious whether I was staying with my parents or siblings, but the idea felt too cold to entertain. I cut him off swiftly. "Where are we going?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could help ," Andrew said, flashing an easy grin at . "My mother’s birthday is in three days, and I’m hopeless at shopping. I need to find the perfect gift. Would you mind coming along to help pick sothing out?"

Hearing Andrew talk about his mother’s birthday snapped out of my thoughts. I hadn’t even considered a gift for Alex. Usually, I would have been excited, already planning sothing special. But now... I felt a strange emptiness, unsure if I even cared enough to think about it at all.

Even so... three days. The very sa day as my anniversary with Alex.

"I don’t mind at all," I said, a genuine softness returning to my voice. "It sounds like a perfect distraction."

The shopping trip was exactly what I needed. We spent the afternoon wandering through high-end boutiques, the scent of fine leather and polished glass a welco relief from the suffocating atmosphere at ho. Andrew was attentive, seeking my opinion on everything from silk scarves to gold-embossed stationery. For a brief few hours, I wasn’t a heartbroken husband, I was simply a friend helping another.

Once the gift was finally chosen, a stunning, handcrafted piece that radiated elegance, Andrew turned to with a respectful smile.

"I don’t an to take up your whole day," he said softly, "but if you don’t mind, would you co back to my place? I want to wrap this properly before we take it to my mother’s house. I’d appreciate the company."

I paused for a mont. Visiting his ho felt like stepping over a boundary I wasn’t ready to cross, but returning to that house, eting Alex’s pleading eyes and enduring his mother’s sharp tongue, was sothing I couldn’t bear. I wasn’t ready to face that reality.

"I’d like that," I said. "Let’s go."

As we drove, my mind drifted to my phone, silently hoping for a ssage from Alex. But there was nothing, no call, no text. I pictured him at the house, pacing, crying, maybe even reaching for a drink. I knew it was risky for his health; the doctor had warned him against alcohol. But the worry that once gnawed at didn’t surface.

But I didn’t dwell on it. Maybe he wasn’t drinking at all. Maybe he was just sitting there, simring with jealousy because I had left. The thought passed quickly, and I locked my phone, letting it go. His health was no longer mine to carry. He was at ho with his mother, if anything happened, she would take care of him.

When we arrived at Andrew’s house, I was struck by its beauty. A modern architectural marvel, it featured clean lines and floor-to-ceiling glass that welcod the light. The warmth of the space felt deliberate, and the decor, masculine yet sophisticated, was filled with art that reflected a man confident in who he was.

Andrew was a natural host. He moved through the kitchen with effortless ease, preparing a light al. We ate together, sharing quiet conversation and laughter, and later wrapped the gift, stumbling over our attempts at perfect bows. With the task done, we set off for his mother’s ho.

As we pulled into her neighborhood, a sudden wave of anxiety washed over . "Andrew... are you sure about this?" I asked, glancing at him. "Is it really okay for to just show up at your mother’s house like this? Will she be okay with being there?"

Andrew slowed the car and turned toward , his expression softening into sothing quietly reassuring. He reached out, resting a hand over mine for a brief, grounding mont.

"Alistair, look at ," he said, smiling. "My mother is going to like you. She’s always been nice to my friends, and honestly, she’s been asking when I’d finally bring soone interesting around. You don’t need to worry, just be yourself. That’s more than enough."

His reassurance felt like a shield. But as he turned back to the road, a small, curious thought flitted through my mind. Interesting? What did he an by that? Was it the way we t, or did he see sothing in I’d long forgotten? I pushed the thought aside, telling myself he ant he enjoyed my company as a friend. That was enough for now.

A short while later, we pulled up to a charming, elegant house that imdiately caught my eye.

"We’re here," Andrew said...