Miss Misunderstood

Elyana's POV

"He's finally here!" My heart jumped for joy when I heard a car's engine outside. I was only expecting my husband, whom I knew would arrive that exact night.

It had been nearly a week since he left for a business trip. I immediately rushed outside out of too much excitement and longing for the few days we hadn't seen each other.

I waited for him right at the foot of the grand staircase, barefoot and in a silky black robe to hide a surprise underneath it.

"Honey!" I exclaimed right after I saw him. He was looking down while walking and only raised his head the moment I called him.

I ran like a child to greet him with a tight hug, but when our eyes met, I was surprised to see his reaction—there was no reaction at all.

I tried to ignore that and continued to hug him tightly to let him know that I missed him so much; however, I could not stop noticing that it seemed like I was hugging a stump. The stiffness of his body was too much.

Maybe he was just surprised by what I did, so I let the thought go again.

I raised my head while my arm was wrapped around his body. I caught him looking at me, and it put a smile back on my face. I tiptoed to reach his lips, but I stopped when I didn't get a response to what I did.

I moved away to look at his face.

"I-is there something wrong? The business trip did not go well?" I instantly thought the reason was this—that maybe his father scolded him for it.

"I'm too tired to talk, Elyana," he answered, avoiding my eyes.

My eyebrows met in shock, but the reason was the way he called me because he commonly called me by my nickname or any sweet made-up name.

He walked away and left me standing in the same spot. I wanted to chase him to ask him, but I changed my mind.

I turned around and watched him climb the stairs. He was loosening his necktie while walking, and based on his body movement, he seemed tired.

I decided to follow him, and when I was inside our room, I didn't see him. I heard the strong rush of water coming from our bathroom. He left the door open, but I fought myself not to go in and disturb him. That was why I laid down on the bed first and waited for him to finish.

At the time, the door was pulled wide open. I let out a sly smile and jumped out of bed. Lucas loved those moments when I was the one initiating on times like those.

I jumped out of bed to show him what I needed. I buried my face on the side of his neck; however, the moment I tried to plant kisses on it, he slightly pushed me away.

"I-I already told you I'm tired." He walked away right after pushing me. He went to the walk-in closet and stayed there for a few minutes.

My mood fell to the floor—he instantly killed it. I had no choice but to give up, let out a heavy sigh, and go back to bed.

Lucas went out shirtless, not only wearing boxer shorts with his typical sleeping wear, but he was in pajama pants that night. I found it weird, but I was too embarrassed to give too much attention to it.

I lay on my side while waiting for him to lie down. I waited for him to pull me close, to wrap me around his arms, and to apologize for what he did, but I didn't get any of these until the sun went up the next day.

He was ready when I woke up.

"Where are you going so early?" I asked with a yawn, but Lucas didn't seem to hear me because he was in a rush.

"How about we have breakfast together first before you leave?" I suggested, hoping he would finally hear me.

"I'm leaving now. I have an important meeting," he said without even looking at me.

He continued putting on his necktie by himself when, mostly, I was the one fixing it for him every day, but I couldn't remember the day when he started doing it for himself.

"But you just came—" I was about to object, but then I changed my mind. That could only lead to one thing, and that was an argument.

"O-okay," I answered sluggishly, even though deep inside it felt like something was squeezing my heart.

He left the room without even kissing me or saying goodbye, like before. I felt rejected twice in a row.

He was gone when I noticed he had left other things he usually brings to business meetings. I had so many maybes and what-ifs, yet I let my blind mind choose the good.

'But how if it felt too much already?'

I peered at his moving car from the window of our room and stayed there until I could no longer see it.

I had been married for five years to the only man who made me believe in love and, at the same time—fairy tales.

His family had been known throughout England for having one of the largest real estate companies, with branches in different parts of the globe. My parents are the same, but they are well-known in Turkey in the fields of hotels and tours.

Our only issue was that we were having a hard time conceiving. Having a baby in their family was a big deal because Lucas was an only child, just like me.

There was pressure from both sides, but his father exerted most of the pressure because he wanted an heir as soon as possible.

Because of that reason, I thought Lucas was serious about trying some methods for us to conceive, but later on, he had so many excuses that convinced me to agree with his idea of just staying patient while doing things the natural way.

I could do whatever he thought was best and comfortable for him. I love him immensely, and whatever he liked, I would instantly agree.

I knew what kept my husband busy—only his job—their business, and he spent most of his time away from home meeting with clients and occasionally traveling all alone, but—"What is that scent?" I asked, sniffing the strong scent Lucas left.