[BL] A Marriage Ruled by Family, Saved by Desire-Chapter 50: Cold Morning, Hot Battles

~Alistair’s POV~

Alex’s head snapped up. His eyes were red-rimmed and dark, boring into me with a mixture of hurt and accusation. I ignored him.

"Alistair? I’ve been calling." Andrew’s voice came through the line, clear and calm. "Are you okay? I woke up and you were already gone. I just wanted to make sure you got back safely."

"I was asleep. I’m sorry, I just woke up," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the wall behind Alex’s head. "I’m fine."

"That’s good to hear," Andrew said, his voice softening after a brief pause. "Listen... can I pick you up later today? I’d really like to see you again."

I looked directly at Alex. His jaw locked tight, the muscles ticking beneath his skin, his fingers curling into the sofa as if he needed something to hold onto.

"You can pick me up anytime," I said, my voice calm and measured.

"Perfect. I’ll call you later," Andrew said, and a second later the line went silent.

I lowered the phone and turned toward the bathroom, but Alex’s voice cut through the heavy silence.

"Good morning, babe."

I didn’t offer him a greeting in return. I didn’t even acknowledge he had spoken. I walked past him into the bathroom, the click of the lock the only answer I gave. I took my time, scrubbing the sleep from my face, bracing myself for the war that was coming.

When I finally stepped back into the bedroom, Alex was standing directly in my way. He looked smaller, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the room pressed down on him. But there was something else in his posture too, an edge of desperation clinging tightly beneath the surface.

"Babe," he said, his voice a low, pained rasp. "Can we talk? Please."

"Talk?" I repeated, the word bitter on my tongue. "Talk about what, Alex? About the baby you’re having with Sarah? Or maybe about how you spent the last six hours going through my private messages?"

"I was worried!" he stepped forward, his hand reaching out before he stopped himself and let it fall. "You disappeared, Alis. I didn’t know if you were safe... and I’m sorry I checked your phone. But how could you spend the night in a hotel with another man... You and him...?"

"Don’t you dare," I hissed, my voice low and sharp. I closed the space between us, my eyes blazing with a cold fury he hadn’t seen before. "Don’t you dare play the jealous husband. You lost that right the moment we left the hospital. While you were busy ’grieving’ your own infidelity in front of your mother, I was fighting to find a reason to keep breathing."

"So because you want to keep breathing, you invite another man to a hotel with you to—"

I cut him off, my tone icy. "I’m not like you, Alex. I’m not a betrayer."

"I didn’t do it, Alis! I don’t care what that paper said, I know I didn’t—"

"The doctor was your friend, Alex!" I shouted, the dam finally breaking. "We chose the hospital. We chose the man. And it still came back positive. So unless your ’loyal’ friend is a liar too, or your mother has bought the entire medical board of this city, the truth is exactly what we saw."

Alex shook his head frantically, his eyes welling up. "I don’t know how it happened, but I’m going to find out. I’m going to fix this. Just please... stay with me. Don’t go out with him today. Don’t let that man take you away."

I let out a sharp, mocking laugh that felt more like a sob. "You think Andrew is the threat? Andrew is just the person who was there when I fell. You are the one who pushed me, Alex. You and your mother and your silence."

I strode past him toward the closet, pulling out my outfit with deliberate care. "I’m going downstairs to eat breakfast with your family," I said, my voice steady, sharp with resolve. "I’ll sit there, look at your mother’s smug face, and let her know I don’t care anymore. Whatever she does now is her business. She won, let her enjoy her crown."

I finished dressing and turned toward the door.

"Alis, please—" Alex called, his voice tense, stopping me for a heartbeat.

"Get out of my way, Alex," I said, my voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm whisper.

He stood frozen as I brushed past him. I could hear his ragged, uneven breathing behind me, but I didn’t look back. I descended the stairs with my head held high, every step a declaration of war, ready to face the den of vipers waiting in the dining room.

When I entered, the air was thick with a sickeningly sweet domesticity. Sarah and Alex’s mother were already seated, side by side, picking at their breakfast like the perfect picture of a family. The moment my feet hit the marble floor, his mother looked up, her face lighting up with a practiced, predatory cheer.

"Son! Good morning," she chirped, her voice dripping with fake warmth. She didn’t wait for a response before waving a hand at the staff. "Serve him, quickly! Alistair needs his strength."

The maid hurried over, placing a steaming plate in front of me. I sat in silence, heavy and deliberate. I didn’t look at Sarah, who perched there with a smug, downcast expression, nor did I glance at the woman at the head of the table. I ate, taking my time, savoring every bite with a measured slowness designed to irk her. She kept sneaking glances at me, fingers drumming impatiently on the tablecloth, clearly waiting for me to finish so she could launch into her "victory speech."

I even asked for a second plate, making her watch as I finished the first, taking my time, letting every bite stretch out.

A few minutes later, Alex joined us. He slumped into the chair next to mine, his presence a heavy shadow. The maid served him in silence. The tension was suffocating, broken only by the clinking of silverware until his mother decided to test the waters.

"Alex, dear," she said, her gaze flicking toward me, measuring my reaction. "Why don’t you be a gentleman and pour Sarah some water?"

It was a blatant move, a small, sharp needle meant to remind me of my "new" reality. Before Alex could even reach for the pitcher or offer a word of protest, I pushed my chair back. The screech of wood against marble silenced the room.

"I’m full," I said, my tone flat and icy. I rose from the table, straightening my shirt. "Enjoy your meal, everyone."

I turned to walk away, but my mother-in-law’s voice sharpened, losing its honeyed edge. "Alistair! Son, wait. I have something important to discuss with you."

I paused, turning back with a slow, bored expression. "Oh, really, Mom?"

"Yes," she said, straightening her back, her eyes glinting. "It’s about the... situation. We need to settle things."

"I’d love to," I replied, a small, hollow smile touching my lips. "But let’s talk about it when I’m back tonight. Right now, I have to meet a friend, and it’s very important. I can’t be late."

Her mouth tightened. "I won’t take much of your time, Alistair. This shouldn’t wait."

"I’m sorry," I said, my tone clipped and final. "But what I have to do is far more pressing. It simply cannot wait."

Before she could squeeze another word out of her mouth, I gave her a deep, mockingly respectful bow, the kind of gesture that looked polite but felt like a slap. Then, I turned and walked toward the stairs.

I didn’t need to look back to know they were stunned. I could feel the shock radiating from Sarah and his mother, and even Alex was staring at my retreating as if he didn’t recognize me.

I whispered to myself as I reached the landing, I refuse to let you break me. I would prove I could exist without your son, that I could find happiness while he alone felt the sting of loss. Just watch.

I returned to our room to wait for Andrew’s call. I had already sent him the estate’s location, so all that was left was to pass the time. I perched by the window, eyes on the gates.

A few minutes later, Alex trailed me upstairs. The moment he stepped in, the room seemed to thicken with his desperation. He launched into a torrent of words, his voice quivering as he begged for forgiveness, promising he would make things right, vowing even to do a DNA test the moment the child was born to prove his innocence.

I turned to him, my tone sharp. "Prove your innocence?" I repeated, letting each word cut. "What more is there to confirm, Alex? Do you want me to waste months waiting, to go back to the hospital and hear for a second time that the baby is yours?"

Alex recoiled as if I’d struck him, the shock draining the last of the color from his face.

Before he could find the breath to speak, I turned back to my screen, dismissing him entirely. "I don’t care anymore," I said casually, my tone as cold as the morning air. "In fact, I think I’ll head back to my parents’ house tomorrow. Just for a while. I need to be somewhere that doesn’t smell like betrayal."

"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 me," I snapped.