[BL] Dear Hushand, I want divorce-Chapter 29: Where is he?

Elijah’s pov ;

I drove around the block and parked a few streets down.

The pain of the loss of my parents still throbbed in my chest. They were killed 7 years ago, and it was the worst thing I’d ever experienced.

I was there.

I saw their car crash into that expensive car, their lifeless bodies mangled beyond recognition. It was the most horrific sight I’d ever seen.

Ever since that day, I’ve been living in a fog, a haze, a cloud. I feel like I’m constantly swimming underwater, the world around me muted and distorted. I can’t seem to break the surface.

It’s not a feeling I want to revisit.

So, I’ve done my best to move on, to put the past behind me, but the wound is still fresh, the pain still raw.

It was a terrible tragedy, one that’s haunted me every day since. I’ve tried to make peace with it, to accept it, but the truth is, I couldn’t.

I’ve pushed it aside, buried it deep inside, and locked it away, but it’s still there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to bubble up and consume me.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. How dare he ask how did they die when he was the one who killed them?

"Fuck." I let out a low growl and hit the steering wheel.

I’m mad at myself for letting him get to me, for losing control like that. I’m supposed to be better than that, but I can’t help it.

The thought of my parents, their deaths, and their murderer bring out a side of me I can’t control, a side that’s unstable and volatile.

I take another deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I can’t believe I acted so foolishly in front of him. I was supposed to fake my real self and make him fall in love with me, but what did I do? I showed him my ugly self and got carried away.

But he deserved that. I shouldn’t think too much about him and his feelings. He’s not even important.

He’s insignificant, disposable, and replaceable.

I look out the window and the gloomy and empty road and still can’t stop thinking about him. Will he be able to go home on his own?

He’s scared of dark places and unfamiliar roads. What if he’s lost and can’t find his way home?

But wouldn’t that be great? If he never comes back, I don’t have to see his face anymore.

I started the car again and drove straight to home.

Once home, I went directly to my study.

Sitting down, I took a sip of the coffee prepared by the servant and opened my laptop. There were a few unread emails, and I quickly scanned them.

I heard a knock on the door and looked up to see James, the caretaker who cooks and cleans for me.

"Sir, would you like to eat dinner?" He asked politely.

I frowned and looked at my watch. Is it already dinner time? which means it’s been more than an hour since I arrived.

I looked up at James again who was waiting for my answer. I don’t want to ask but with a tight heart, I asked it anyway.

"Is..Ash home yet?"

James looked confused and shook his head. "No, sir. Wasn’t he supposed to return with you?"

"Never mind." I waved my hand dismissively.

What’s the point of asking about him anyway? He can die for all I care.

I turned my attention back to my laptop, determined to focus on my work. But the image of him alone in the dark and empty streets kept flashing in my mind.

"I’m coming..." I sighed as I couldn’t divert my mind even if I drowned myself in the work.

Shit! What’s with this guilty and nervous feeling? He’s not a kid for fuck’s sake. He’s perfectly able to return home on his own.

"Okay, sir." James bowed and turned around to leave.

"Wait," I called him again.

"Yes, sir?" He turned around.

"Let’s wait until...Ash arrives," I cringed at myself for not being able to stick to my own words. "I’m going for a shower. Get everything ready and bring them to the dining room."

"Understood."

Without waiting for him to ask any questions, I hurried towards the bathroom.

A shower should clear my head and make me forget about him. The hot water hit my body and I closed my eyes, letting the water run down my hair and face. I was lost in my thoughts.

Because my mind kept drifting to Ash and his safety.

"Shit," I cursed out loud, slamming the tap shut.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I worried about that fucker? I hate him. I loathe him.

I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off with a towel. My eyes landed on my phone and I conflicted between calling him or not.

"Fuck it!" I picked up the phone and called him. But he didn’t pick up.

What’s wrong with this bitch? Not picking up my call? Is he showing his anger? He must be sulking.

I dialled him again, but the same result.

"Damn it, Ash! Pick up the call, will you?" But again, the same. "Why is he not answering?"

I was growing restless, my irritation levels rising.

I didn’t bother putting on any clothes. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I ran downstairs to the kitchen, where James was finishing setting the table.

"James!" He jumped at my sudden appearance, turning to look at me, his eyes wide.

"Is Ash home?"

"N-No, sir."

I groaned loudly, my hands running through my wet hair in frustration. My phone buzzed, raising my hopes but my face instantly dropped when I saw Ryder’s name.

"What do you want?"

"What? You’re angry?" He asked.

"I don’t have time to waste, Ryder. Get on with it."

"Wow, talk about being rude," he mocked.

"I’m not in the mood to argue with you. If you didn’t call me for any important business then bye."

"Fine. Fine. Listen. You’re coming with me tomorrow to pick my suit for my birthday party."

"You called me just for that?"

"Yes. So, you have to-"

"Bye," I ended the call, not giving a shit about whatever he’s going to say.

I crushed the phone in my hand and turned to James in a hurry. "I’m going to pick him-"

But I was interrupted by another call. And my brows relaxed seeing his name on the screen.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn’t you answer my calls?" I yelled as soon as I picked it up.

But instead of Ash, an unfamiliar voice greets me. "Hello? Is this Elijah?" the voice asks, sounding anxious.

"Yes, it is. Who’s this?" I demand, feeling a prickle of unease. "Isn’t it Ash’s phone?"

"This is the front desk at the Metropolitan Hotel. I found this phone, and your number was the most frequently called. There’s an emergency involving the owner of this phone."

My heart skips a beat. "Where is Ash? What happened to him?" I ask urgently, already running to my room to dress up.

"The owner of the phone—he’s locked himself in a wardrobe and refusing to come out. He keeps calling out for you, sir. He sounds very distressed."

My mind races as I hurriedly put on my shoes and grab my car keys. "What do you mean he’s locked himself in a wardrobe? Is he hurt? What happened?" My voice is edged with rising panic.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line which made my patience snap. "Answer me! What happened to Ash? If anything happened to him, I’ll fucking burn down your whole hotel!"

The voice hesitates before replying, "Sir, you need to come here and see for yourself. Please, hurry."

I didn’t waste another second. Ending the call, I practically fly out of the house and down to the parking garage. My heart pounds as I speed through the streets, a thousand scenarios playing out in my mind. What could have possibly happened to drive Ash to such a state?

And how the fuck did he even get to that hotel?

The call had come from a motel with a club attached, a place I never would have expected him to be. Did he go there just to get his revenge on me for leaving him on the streets?

I’ll cut his legs if he pulls up this stupid trick just to provoke me.

The drive there felt like a fever dream, my heart pounding so hard I could barely think. When I finally arrived, the staff seemed nervous, their eyes wide with fear.

"Where is he? Where’s Ash?!" I barked, my voice echoing through the lobby. My heartbeats were heavy and fast, each one a painful thud in my chest.

One of the girls, looking scared out of her wits, stepped forward. "I’ll take you to him."

I followed her through dim hallways, the atmosphere growing more overbearing with each step. The air smelled of sweat and sex. We stopped in front of a door, and she pushed it open, revealing a room that made my stomach drop.

It was a fucking BDSM room.

Filled with all the trappings. Chains and restraints hung from the walls, a large bed with cuffs on each corner dominated the center of the room, and various tools of pleasure and pain were scattered around. The red lighting cast a sinister glow over everything, making the scene look even more dreadful.

The girl pointed to a closet in the corner. "He’s in there," she whispered.

I approached the closet slowly, my fingers trembling and my forehead beading with sweat. With a painful deep breath, I reached for the handle and opened the door.

And my eyes nearly plucked out of their sockets at the sight before me.