[BL] A Marriage Ruled by Family, Saved by Desire-Chapter 27: Doubt, Every Question Burning

~Alistair’s POV~

"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, the noise of the party suddenly sounding like static. His "advice" felt like a slow-acting poison, meant to plant doubt in my heart about the one man who cared for me and loved me more deeply than I could ever put into words.

"It’s not your fault," I said, my voice cold and dangerously quiet. Roman blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in my tone. "It’s mine. I was the one who told you about things that are absolutely none of your business."

I set the drink down on the railing. "Happy birthday again, Roman. But I’m done here."

I didn’t wait for his response. I shoved my way through the crowd, his words still clinging to me, making my skin crawl. I needed distance, from the blinding lights, the pounding music, and the people who couldn’t understand that my loyalty wasn’t a cage. It was a choice.

I stepped onto the curb, the sharp night air cutting through my flushed skin like a balm. I paced the sidewalk, trying to scrub away the greasy unease Roman’s words had left behind. You never know what he’s doing over there. The thought kept looping in my head, a broken record whispering doubt, nudging at those small, ugly fears I had fought so hard to bury.

I pulled out my phone, my chest hammering as the screen came alive. I hadn’t expected to see anything; I was already resigned to a sleepless night of worrying as I signaled for my driver to pull up to the curb.

But to my utter shock, the screen erupted with notifications. Silent icons piled up one after another: 5 missed calls. 12 unread messages. From Hubby.

My eyes snapped to the screen. Notifications blinked relentlessly, missed calls, unread messages. My fingers shook as I realized I had been so absorbed in Roman’s suffocating chatter that I hadn’t even heard my phone ringing.

My heart leaped into my throat. I scrambled to open the messages, my fingers trembling so hard I almost swiped the notifications away. I tapped the first one, my eyes racing over the text.

Hubby: Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in a dead-zone meeting. No signal at all. I’m losing my mind not being able to hear your voice.

Hubby: Alis? Are you at the party?

I scrolled down, the weight that had been crushing my chest for hours finally beginning to lift.

Hubby: I’m heading back to the hotel now. Thank God that meeting is over.

Hubby: Babe? Please tell me you’re okay. I’m almost at the hotel. Pick up when I call.

I read them over and over, but I didn’t call or text back yet. I waited until the car pulled into our driveway and I was safely inside our house.

I made it up to our bedroom, but the moment I stepped into our bedroom, the phone vibrated with a life of its own. I was halfway through pulling my shirt over my head when the video call flashed. I lunged for it, hitting ’accept’ with a trembling thumb.

Alex’s face popped up on the screen. He looked pale and out of breath. "Alis! Oh thank god," he rasped. "I’ve been calling you for an hour. Why didn’t you pick up? I thought something happened to you."

"I’m so sorry," I said, feeling guilty for making him panic. "The music at the party was so loud, I didn’t even hear my phone ringing. I’m sorry for making you worry."

"No, baby," Alex sighed, rubbing his face. "I should be the one to apologize. I’m sorry I couldn’t reach you for all those hours. It was driving me crazy."

"It’s fine," I said, a genuine smile finally touching my lips. "I was a mess earlier because I couldn’t get through to you, but all that weight is gone now. Just hearing your voice... I feel like I can finally breathe again."

"Thank you, baby," he murmured, his eyes softening with relief. We lingered in a quiet moment, just staring at each other through the glow of the screen, the hum of distance hanging between us. Then Alex’s brow furrowed. "Wait... you’re back already? It’s still early. Why did you leave the party so soon?"

I let out a soft laugh and leaned closer to the camera. "How could I enjoy a party without hearing from my husband? The music didn’t matter, the people didn’t matter... everything felt gray until I saw your name on my screen."

"I’m sorry again," he said, his eyes full of love.

"It’s okay," I promised. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Not yet," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I just ordered room service. They should be here soon with something light."

"Good. Make sure you eat every bite," I teased gently.

We stayed on the line while his food arrived, and long after he’d finished. We didn’t hang up. We talked for hours about my night, his long day, everything and nothing at all. When we finally ran out of words, we just stared at each other until our eyes grew heavy. I didn’t notice when sleep claimed me, but I drifted off knowing he was there, right next to me, even if only through the phone.

The next day, the same frustrating pattern repeated. I tried calling in the morning, but it went straight to voicemail. I spent the afternoon pacing the house, checking my phone every five minutes. It wasn’t until late evening that the screen finally lit up with his face.

Hey, baby," Alex said the moment I picked up. His eyes were red-rimmed, exhaustion written across his face. "I’m sorry for making you worry again."

I said nothing, just staring at him. Then he added, his voice low and serious, "I’ll be back tomorrow... to apologize, and to face whatever punishment I deserve."

I blinked, taken aback. "Tomorrow? I thought you said you’d be back on Tuesday. What happened? Are you already done with everything you went for?"

"Yeah," Alex said, nodding quickly. "I’m done with what I came for. I’ll be home tomorrow."

There was a strain in his voice, a tightness that didn’t sit right, like he was hiding something. I pushed the unease aside, not wanting to spark an argument across the distance, and gave a short, shaky smile. "Alright, baby... I can’t wait."

We kept talking, trying to settle into our usual rhythm, but in the middle of a sentence, a loud, sharp knock echoed from his side of the line.

Alex flinched, his head snapping toward the door of his hotel room. "Babe, I have to go. I’ll call you back," he said hurriedly.

"Wait, Alex? Who is that at—"

Before I could finish the question, the screen went black. The call ended.

I stared at the "Call Ended" message, a cold knot tightening in my stomach. Something felt off. Alex never hung up on me like that, never in the middle of a conversation. I tried calling him back immediately, but it didn’t even ring. Straight to voicemail.

I tossed my phone onto the bed and buried my hands in my hair. Why was he coming back early? Who could be at his door? I sank into the quiet of our bedroom, and a deep, sickening knot coiled in my stomach. This "business trip" was starting to feel a lot darker than anything he was telling me.

I grabbed the phone and redialed, over and over. Each time, it went straight to that cold, automated voicemail. Dark thoughts began to creep in, but I shook my head, forcing them away. I refused to believe it. Alex wouldn’t hurt me. He couldn’t.

Suddenly, it was too much. Tears poured down my face, scorching and blurring my vision, because not knowing was worse than anything else. I kept redialing, whispering his name into the empty room, until exhaustion took me and I fell asleep, the phone still clutched tightly in my hand.

I woke to my phone buzzing at 4:30 a.m. The screen lit up with a text.

Hubby: Good morning, baby, I’m leaving for the airport now. I’ll be home before you know it.

With the three-hour time difference, he was already on his way. I stared at the message for what felt like forever. My thumb hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn’t bring myself to type a word. I didn’t reply.

By the time I was fully awake, I went downstairs. I didn’t touch any food, I couldn’t even look at it without feeling sick. I just sat there, eyes glued to the clock, waiting. I just wanted him to walk through that door and explain everything.

The day dragged on until finally, I heard the familiar sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway. The driver was back. My chest tightened with anticipation, but instead of running to the door like I usually did, I stood up and walked away.

I went upstairs to our bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, my hands folded tightly in my lap. I sat there in the silence, waiting for his footsteps on the stairs, ready to get the answers to every question burning in my mind.