SUMMARY: You return home late, which pisses of your husband but when he gets to know the reason things take an unexpected turn and you end up receiving one of the best and most satisfying birthday gifts ever.
CONTENT WARNING: [18+ mdni]: yandere : toxic behaviour and relationship : possesive and obsessive behaviour : established relationship : angst : hurt/comfort : emotional neglect : misogyny : mentions of cheating in the past
WC: 1.7k
an; this is not proofread! Also this is a part 2 of this
“Where the fuck have you been?”
That was the first thing you heard when you finally returned, you were somewhat expecting it considering how late it was and out of your character. But still you had hoped and wished for him to not be at home as he was not most of the time.
He looked at the back of your head as you were heading towards the grand staircase and had stopped frozen hearing his voice.
He had been waiting for you for quite some time now, after knowing you had not returned since evening and he was not used to be waiting for anyone, he was a very impatient man. He wanted and needed everything instantly when he demanded for it, if it crossed his mind it better be in front of him too.
So, imagine his reaction when he returned at evening calling out your name all over the mansion and heard no response from you only to get to know from the staff that you had left for somewhere, and that too without telling him or getting his permission, the rage he had felt was almost murderous.
You were very pliant and always took his permission before going anywhere, as you should. You were not much of a trouble and honestly he loved that, he loved that you always did what he asked for, always asked for his permission, that you were entirely under his control, wrapped around his finger. He even boasted about your obedience in his circle, taking pride in you.
He hated losing control and being wrong about anything, so he better not be wrong about you and you better not start acting out of line and disobeying him.
“I asked you a question,” he said, taking a step towards the staircase where you stood. “Where were you?”
“Out.”
A hint of anger and irritation passed his eyes when he heard that. “I fucking know that, but out where?” He asked through his clenched teeth, stepping closer.
“I was out with my friends” you said with an exhausted sigh, “We went out for dinner.”
“With your friends?” he repeated, seething. “You left this house, without telling me, without taking any of my men with you, looking like a fucking whore, to go to dinner with your friends, and that too this late? Do you have any fucking idea what time it is.”
You felt his hands wrap around your wrist as he towered over you, looking down at you but you only avoided his gaze, looking to your side without any response. “I called you like 50 times, you would know if you cared to check your phone.”
You did know and that was the sole reason you had switched off your phone. “My phone died so I am really sorry I couldn't check it.”
You felt his warm breath against your face, as his hands wandered around your waist and hips, as he touched your hair. “And why did you dress so cheaply? Do I get you expensive stuff to decorate your closet?”
“It was a birthday and they had a theme so–”
“I don't give a fuck it was birthday or whatever” he cut you off, his voice gravelly. “If your friends want to celebrate, they can do it without you. And if you wanted to go out, you should have asked for permission like you always do.”
He knew who your friends were, similar wealthy background girls like you, politicians and businessmen daughters and he had no issues with them, most of the time atleast but if you were going to behave like this just to hang out and meet with them, he was definitely going to have problems with them and you would end up suffering instead.
“You don't leave without my say so. Do you understand me? And if not I will lock you in your room, then keep crying.” He said tilting his face to the side to meet yours at your eye level, only for you to turn to the other side again, nodding.
You hated looking at his eyes, they were really sharp, predatory and cold. In the beginning of your marriage when you used to it made you feel so uneasy and scared, slowly you learnt to avoid his gaze and directly looking at his face.
That way it was easier to deal with him, if not whatever you have learnt and kept yourself out together it would come crashing down in one go and you didn't want that happening.
“There are people out there always trying to put a bullet through my head, get me dead, get something they can use against me. Do you have any idea how easy it would be for someone to take you off the street?”
“You're supposed to be where I can see you–”
He stopped abruptly, turning around as the large front door of the estate opened, flooding in the light from the outside as the driver you had taken for yourself walked in, arms full of and laden with things with different colours, gift wrappings, shopping bags from high end boutiques and brands.
He stared at the bags and the gifts as the driver walked towards you two. Slowly, he turned his head back to you.
“What is this now? You went shopping too?”
“No,” you said, rubbing your arm feeling a wave of anxiousness as you took in a breath before speaking “They're from the birthday party.”
“Whose birthday party?” He asked, picking up a small rectangular shaped gift box from the pile from the driver's arms.
“Mine.”
Happy Birthday, my darling. My sweetest, prettiest baby girl in this whole world, dad loves you alot. — Dad.
He read it simultaneously, the card attached to it as that one word left your mouth and everything came crashing down to him as he felt like he was thrown in a cold lake on a harsh winter night.
Fuck.
He had forgotten.
He had forgotten your birthday.
“Today…. today was your birthday?” He asked as if still in disbelief as he looked at you with this weird look which you had never seen on his face and you didn't know if you wanted to deal with it right now. Why did it matter if it was your special day or not, for him it was like any other day.
“Yes” you said simply, turning back towards the stairs, your hand gripping the banister. “I am going to bed, I am really tired also I am sorry I should have told you beforehand.”
“Wait”
His hand shot out, catching your wrist. But he didn't pull you back with his usual rough force. His grip was loose, his fingers gentle on your skin.
“Wait a second’ he said again, his voice getting heavier.
You stopped, looking down at his hand on your wrist, then up at his face, not really knowing what to do and what to say, honestly it didn't hurt you that he didn't remember it, because you never had that kind of expectation from him.
"Baby," he whispered.
The word “baby” came out clumsy and sounded really weird to your ears. The word felt incredibly strange coming from his mouth.
He was not an affectionate guy or the one to use pet names as that, he usually called you woman or wife when he was angry, when he was pulling your clothes over your head in the dark after returning home late and straight up coming to fuck you.
Even when he used words like that, which was a rare occurrence, it was to mock you or try to get you into bed. Right now the way he spoke that word was completely different, it almost sounded affectionate and intimate, like he loved you, his voice had a hint of desperation, which was not like him at all.
“I am…I am–” he stammered trying to get the word sorry out of his mouth which was stuck in his throat, he felt like he should say it but it was not coming out.
He didn't even remember the last time he had said sorry to someone,that too sincerely but right now his heart and mind both shouted together for him to say out that word to you, he didn't know why, he didn't know why this heavy feeling had settled in his chest when he realised he missed such an important day of yours, was this guilt? Is this how it felt like?
Sorry was like a cuss word to him but still he couldn't help himself as those words left his mouth.
“I…” He swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours. “I forgot. I am ... fuck it. I am sorry.”
You stared at him, completely frozen as those words left his mouth, so strange and awkward.
I am sorry?
Had you heard him right?
He had never said those words to you. Not when he stayed out all night with other women, not when he yelled at you for things you didn't do, not when he forced you to stay home when you wanted to see your family. He never apologized for his actions, never.
So, how could you believe him even if he was standing on the bottom step of the stairs, looking up at you with wide, desperate eyes, telling you that he was sorry.
“I didn't mean to, I swear to God” he rambled, his voice growing faster, more frantic as he saw the lack of reaction on your face. He stepped up onto the stair, bringing himself closer to you as he kept rambling.
“It's fine you don't need to worry too much.” You whispered not knowing what else to say.
“No, it's not fine!” he said, his voice rising. He leaned closer, his forehead pressing against yours, his warm skin touching yours as the breath of you two mixed with each other, the similar way your feelings were tangling with his, messy and unsure.
“It's your birthday. I should have... I should have been there with you the whole day. I should have taken you out. What do you want? Tell me what you want, and I'll get it for you right now.”
“I don't want anything” you said, your eyes slipping shut as you touched his face reassuringly.
“Don't say that” he said as his voice sounded pleading, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones. His touch was so gentle it felt almost foreign.
“Anything you want. Anything, jewellery, bags, anything I mean it, you just name it. Or a trip? We can go to Paris to celebrate your birthday, or anywhere else, wherever you want.”
He was offering you everything he had, trying to buy his way out of the suffocating guilt that was weighing him down in his heart for some god forsaken reason, and because he was feeling like that for the first time he didn't know how to act and what to do or deal with this strange feeling.
But you didn't want anything he was offering to you.
Though you were not going to lie, the word divorce did flash in your mind for a second but even you knew that offer was not on the table.
