Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM

Mrs Reluctant Billionaire || Two

She was scared of me.

My wife was scared of me. It was there in the way her steps faltered when she saw me, how she thought twice before speaking in monotones, how she hesitated to return my hugs, delayed to hold my hand. That carefree lady was gone, the glint in her eyes was slowly dying, as was the affection she had for me.

I missed her.

Nighttime was the only period of sanity we shared. On the bed, with the darkness as our only alibi, we could pretend to be a regular couple, I could cuddle her, touch her growing bump. I tucked my head in the space between her neck and shoulder, she stiffened but relaxed almost immediately and I palmed her belly, traced her belly button. She was carrying our girls and I needed this awkwardness to be gone before the twins graced this earth. I placed a lingering kiss on her shoulder, another one behind her ear.

If she was awake, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I wasn’t allowed to do a lot of things anymore. We wouldn’t even be in this position, it was too intimate. She didn’t have to outrightly stop me, her eyes did.

I knew when she woke, when she turned in my arms so we were facing each other but I pretended to be asleep. I wanted this moment to last. Her breath fanned my face, she pecked my cheeks, my lips, trailed a path down the middle of my chest and sighed. I forced myself to keep still as her finger traced my lips, prayed for her to kiss me, to touch me like she always did but she pulled away and got out of the bed.

“Why did you have to kill him?” I heard her whisper. She was no longer on the bed but she was close. So close yet so far. “Baby, why?” The pain in her voice hit me, I remained rigid until her footsteps faded.

Why did I have to kill him?

Why did he have to be stupid? Why did he have to be jealous? Why did he have to be my brother?

Tired of pretending, I got up from the bed to sit on the edge with my face buried in my palms. I could feel it, taste the disaster hanging over my head. Bad news was coming and she would be the bearer.

Walking towards the window, I parted the heavy curtains to let in natural sunlight—the only form of light it seemed I would now be getting. My eyes roamed the compound. This house was too big for only one person but Elna made it home. She was my home. Minutes rolled by, my gaze darted to the bathroom door but she didn’t come out. Since the staircase incident, I had gotten extra cautious, I couldn’t afford to lose her due to my carelessness. I waited, counted to ten under my breath yet she didn’t show up.

I knocked on the bathroom door before going in, something I had never done in my life but nothing was the same anymore. Our relationship had deteriorated. We were familiar strangers now, strangers who shared a room, lived and breathed the same air with a perpetual cloud of sadness hovering above them. I noticed her by the mirror, her hair was a mess—a beautiful mess and a ghost of a smile rose to my lips.

With Elna, everything took on a new, more meaningful and beautiful form. Happiness was all around her, a glowing radiance that nothing could block. She had so much joy to give and she didn’t stop giving.

Elna was a kind soul, a gift that continued giving but right now, I could feel that gift slipping from me. I might be the first person she would turn her back on, the only person who might be in her Black Book.