From Deadbeat To Doting; Something Is Wrong With My Husband!-Chapter 22: Welcome Home, Mr. Colburn II

Brianna yawned, exhaustedly. Maybe tomorrow.

Climbing the stairs, she was halfway up when a blur of movement from the top of the stairs sent a rush of adrenaline through her tired system.

Before she could even register the figure, a solid weight slammed into her shoulder. "Ah!"

Her foot slipped on the polished wood. She staggered sideways, her fingers digging for a grip until they clamped onto the cold rosewood railing.

She felt her heart leap into her throat, the sudden vertigo made her head spin.

"Watch where you’re—"

She cut herself off as she looked at the "intruder."

It was Keenan. He wasn’t even looking at her; he was hunched over, his head craned back toward the upper hallway with the panicked expression of a man fleeing a crime scene.

"Keenan?"

The eighteen-year-old nearly jumped out of his skin, his head snapping around. "Auntie! I mean, baby! Why didn’t you tell me Uncle Lucian has returned?"

Brianna was stunned. Her breath hitched as she tried to process his frantic energy. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my—"

She stopped mid-sentence when her eyes traveled down. She blinked once. Twice. The exhaustion must be causing hallucinations. She looked at him~really looked at him~and the air left her lungs for an entirely different reason.

"Oh, my God," she gasped, her voice reaching a pitch of pure disbelief.

"Why are you naked?!"

Before an answer came, she slammed her hand over her eyes as the heat of a flush rose to her cheeks.

"Dress properly! Now!"

Keenan’s voice cracked. "But the vibe! I was just trying to—"

"Just go!" Brianna yelled behind her palm, waving her other hand violently toward the exit.

"Leave. Out. Now!"

Trying to stammer another excuse, Keenan’s feet shuffled indecisively on the step below her.

Keenan tried to stammer another excuse, his footsteps shuffling indecisively on the step below her.

Brianna remained still like a statue of judgment until she heard the slapping sound of his bare feet retreating down the stairs.

Letting out an abrupt scoff, Brianna finally dropped her hand. She watched his retreating figure, then looked up the stairs, then back down.

"What the hell...?"

The words came out like a faint whisper. She couldn’t even comprehend the situation anymore. Was this her life? A husband who forgot his hate, an assistant who was onto her, and a nephew who thought ’naked’ was a homecoming theme?

Sighing, she forced her feet to continue, reaching the top of the hallway. But the universe wasn’t finished with her.

Her eyes locked onto a figure standing in the corridor. Lucian.

He was leaning against the doorframe of his suite, his expression unreadable, his gaze fixed on the spot where Keenan had just been.

They stayed like that for a long, heavy silence—two foes on a stage, trying to figure out what the other was thinking.

Finally, Lucian broke the silence. His voice was a low, smooth vibration that seemed to crawl up her spine.

"What... was that?"

Brianna shrugged nonchalantly, forcing her legs to carry her toward him. "It was nothing."

Arching his brows, Lucian opened his mouth to press for details, but when Brianna reached him, brushing past his large frame that seemed to swallow the door, the next question died in his throat.

He seized her up as she crowded into his space. Lucian felt uncomfortable when her arm clashed against his gut.

It felt like she was breaching an invisible boundary he fought so hard to maintain.

He looked down at her with dark eyes and defensive focus.

Meanwhile, Brianna didn’t even notice, her eyes were more focused on the "romantic" disaster Keenan had left behind. The blinking candles and scattered petals felt like a mockery of her life.

She closed her eyes briefly, not knowing if it was the anger bubbling in her chest or something else, but she was feeling dizzy.

The air felt too thin as she tried breathing. Her knees weakened.

"Wife?"

Staggering to the side, Brianna’s hand reached out for anything to anchor her to the earth.

Her fingers found the smooth cold surface of the hallway vase stand, though her weight was uneven.

CRASH!

The noise brought a spark of sanity back to her mind, but her body refused to follow.

"Are you okay?"

Before she could hit the floor, a hand clamped around her waist. Lucian pulled her flush against his solid wall-like chest.

She was recovering, but the moment Brianna realized the face staring into hers, when she turned sideways, she flinched as if burned.

He was too close and she was going to throw up. Shoving him off, the force sent her staggering until she hit the floor. Landing on the rose petals in the hallway.

The way she had fallen was ridiculous, Lucian moved towards her, his hand reaching to pull her up. "What is wrong with you~?"

"Don’t."

She groaned, a low, pained sound on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Lucian said, ignoring her and reaching out again.

"I said don’t come any closer!" She groaned, her entire frame shaking with a violent, jagged tremor that she couldn’t suppress.

It was a bodily rejection of his presence.

And she literally rolled her body away from his reaching hand, refusing to let him touch her again.

Lucian was stunned. He watched her rather use the wall as a crutch than receive his assistance, wondering if his wife was... insane.

"I’m fine," she gritted out, staggering back a step as she tried to pull herself together.

"I need to sleep. Everything else... tomorrow."

She turned and bumped into Annie. The sound of the vase had drawn her attention. Her doe eyes widened as she looked from the broken porcelain to Brianna’s disheveled state. "Mrs. Colburn! Is everything all right? Do you need—"

"Clean the mess, Annie," Brianna interrupted, staggering into her room like a drunk.

Annie looked between Lucian and Brianna’s retreating figure wondering why he wasn’t helping his wife.