[BL] A Marriage Ruled by Family, Saved by Desire-Chapter 53: A Quiet Storm Broken Hearts

~Alistair’s POV~

Hands trembling, I opened it and froze at the five words that stared back at me:

Alex: Baby, don’t stay out too late.

That was all. No questions about where I was, who I was with, or whether I was okay. It was as if his jealousy had burned out, leaving only indifference. A cold, hollow ache settled in my chest as Andrew drove, pointing out landmarks and corners of the city, but my thoughts were elsewhere, locked inside the quiet weight of that single message.

Finally, Andrew eased the car to a stop along a quiet, tree-lined street and switched off the engine. The sudden silence pulled me out of my thoughts, and I lifted my head, blinking as I took in my surroundings.

"What happened? Why did we stop?" I asked, my voice slightly confused.

Andrew adjusted in his seat, turning to face me completely. The dappled shadows from the trees played across his features, leaving his expression hard to read. "Alistair," he said, his tone quiet but firm, "would it be okay if we had an honest conversation?"

A shiver of unease ran down my spine. "Yes," I murmured. I braced myself, knowing that my personal life, the tangled mess of my marriage, the betrayal, and the DNA test, was still too fragile to share, and I wasn’t ready to open up to him yet.

Andrew’s gaze flickered down to my hand, lingering on the glint of the diamond band encircling my finger. He hesitated, then asked softly, almost unsure of himself, "That... that’s a wedding ring, isn’t it, Alis?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. I said nothing, neither confirming nor denying. Instead, I folded my hand beneath my other arm, hiding the ring from view. "The sky looks incredible tonight, doesn’t it?" I said, forcing a lightness into my voice as I stared out the windshield at the scattered stars.

"It’s so clear... We don’t really get views like this in the city."

Andrew’s eyes stayed on me, searching for a response I had no intention of giving. He waited, silently, as if studying me, trying to figure out why I wouldn’t answer. When it became clear I wasn’t going to say anything, he let out a soft, resigned sigh and dropped the subject. Slowly, he shifted the conversation to safer ground, the city, the weather, his mother’s birthday, until the car finally hummed back toward my home.

When we reached the massive, wrought-iron gates, the weight of my life pressed back in. I turned to Andrew, a quiet gratitude welling inside me for the calm he’d given me today.

"Thank you, Andrew," I said softly, looking into his eyes. "For today... I really appreciated it."

"Anytime, Alis," he replied, his voice tinged with a lingering concern.

I strode out of the car and offered a small, wave as Andrew drove off. I watched his taillights vanish into the darkness before turning toward the looming silhouette of the mansion. The moment my finger grazed the doorbell, the door swung open, as if someone had been standing right behind it, counting my heartbeats.

I stepped into the living room, the maid who had opened the door lingering respectfully behind me. The tense confrontation I had braced for never came. Instead, I found only my mother-in-law, seated gracefully on the sofa, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows across her face. The moment she saw me, she greeted me with a polished, welcoming smile.

"Alistair! You’re back," she said.

I said nothing, my gaze fixed firmly on the stairs.

"Have you eaten, dear?" she asked again.

"I’m fine," I replied, my voice tight and clipped.

She didn’t hesitate. "You know, Alex hasn’t left his room since you walked out this morning," she said evenly. "He hasn’t eaten a single thing. If you could... perhaps go upstairs and speak to him? He might listen to you."

A cold, hysterical laugh bubbled in my chest, though I kept my expression a mask of stone. The fact that she actually thought I still cared whether her son ate or starved was almost comical. But I kept my peace, nodding respectfully. "Okay."

"Good," she said, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. "Once you’ve freshened up, come back downstairs with Alex. We need to discuss how we’re going to handle... the situation at hand."

I didn’t bother to respond. I simply turned and made my way up the stairs, the heavy silence of the house echoing with every step.

When I pushed open the bedroom door, the room greeted me with emptiness. I scanned the space, but Alex was nowhere to be found. I checked the bathroom next he wasn’t there either.

I stripped off my clothes and stepped beneath the spray of the shower, letting the hot water dull the edge of my thoughts. At first, I didn’t question his absence, I only wanted to wash the day off my skin.

After drying off and changing into my nightwear, I settled onto the sofa, towel in hand, slowly working through my damp hair. That was when the realization struck me. When I had come in earlier, Sarah hadn’t been in the living room. And now, Alex was nowhere to be found either.

A flicker of old, unwanted instinct kicked in. I stood up and stepped into the hallway, spotting one of the maids as she passed with a tray of linens.

I stopped her and asked, "Have you seen Alex?"

"Yes, sir," she murmured, bowing her head slightly. "He went up to the rooftop an hour ago. He asked for a bottle of whiskey."

"Is he alone?"

"Yes, sir."

My first instinct was to retreat to the room and lock the door. Let him drink. Let him sink. Yet something, a lingering shadow of the man I once was, urged me toward the elevator.

When the elevator doors slid open onto the rooftop, the night air hit me like a chill. I saw him instantly, slumped in a chair at the terrace’s edge, a glass dangling from his hand, a half-empty bottle resting on the table beside him. He looked completely broken, a man who had reached the end of his rope and found it fraying beneath him.

As I stepped closer, the soft click of my slides gave me away. He tensed, then slowly turned his head. His bloodshot eyes and hollowed cheeks were stark in the moonlight.

"Hey... babe. You’re back," he said, his voice trembling so violently it was hard to catch the words.

"I just got back," I said, stopping a few feet away.

He scanned me then, his gaze moving slowly from my head down to my feet, lingering on my fresh clothes and damp hair. A strange, bitter smile touched his lips.

"Just now?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave. "You got back just now, and you’ve already showered?"

I froze, my brow furrowing. "What do you mean by that?"