Married to Mr. Laurent
Chapter 9 — The Morning He Didn't Look Back
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The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, softening the harsh lines of the cold penthouse. Elián stood barefoot on the marble floor, wrapped in nothing but a loose hoodie that barely reached his thighs. It was one of Kairo's—oversized, smelling faintly of citrus and something sharper, expensive, and masculine. The scent clung to him like a bruise.
But Kairo was nowhere to be found.
Again.
Elián rubbed his arm, fingers tracing the sore spot where the CEO had gripped him too hard two nights ago. He hadn't told anyone. Not his mother, not his best friend. Who would he tell? He was the one who had been "given away" like an offering. A contract signed, a marriage forced, and now, a husband in name only to a man who hated the idea of sharing his last name with him.
He moved quietly to the kitchen, the silence around him a far cry from the pounding thoughts in his chest.
He had started cooking again—simple things. Just enough to feel normal. Toast. Eggs. Coffee. But when he placed the extra mug on the table across from him, it hit him: Kairo wouldn't drink it. He hadn't touched anything Elián made since the wedding.
"Why do I keep trying?" Elián whispered to no one.
The door clicked open.
He turned sharply.
Kairo stepped in, dressed in a black coat, hair slightly windblown, expression unreadable. Behind him, trailing quietly, was Ayden—his boyfriend.
Still.
Even after everything.
Elián's fingers tightened around the ceramic mug. He immediately looked away, heart thudding.
Kairo paused at the sight of him, of the breakfast, of the quiet vulnerability in the boy who wore his hoodie like a shield.
Ayden snorted softly. "Still playing house, huh?"
Kairo didn't stop him.
Elián didn't say a word. He stepped away from the table and walked back toward the hallway.
But Kairo's voice, sharp and cold, cut through the room.
"Why are you wearing my clothes again? Didn't I tell you to stop that?"
Elián froze. He swallowed hard. "Sorry. I was cold."
"There's a closet full of things I had the staff buy for you. You don't need to wear mine like you're trying to make a statement."
"I wasn't," Elián said, eyes down.
Kairo walked toward him slowly, a threat in every step.
"Take it off."
Elián's fingers trembled at the hem of the hoodie. His cheeks burned in shame.
"Kairo…" Ayden said, tone almost amused now. "You don't have to bully the kid. He looks pathetic enough."
That laughter. That word—pathetic.
Elián dropped his arms and left the room without a word. He didn't cry. Not anymore. His chest just felt like it was caving in slowly.
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By evening, Kairo returned alone. Ayden had gone off for a modeling gig or something else equally vain. The penthouse was quiet again, the air brittle with all the words they never said.
Elián was curled on the far side of the living room couch, a book in his lap he hadn't really read.
Kairo poured himself a glass of wine. He didn't look at him.
But Elián had grown cold in a different way lately—like the frostbite you don't notice until your fingers go numb. And when he finally spoke, his voice didn't waver.
"You don't have to pretend to be my husband."
Kairo blinked. "What?"
"You don't need to come back here. Not if Ayden's waiting somewhere else."
Kairo's jaw tightened. "This is my house."
"And I'm just the contract you signed. I get it now."
There was silence. Elián stood, letting the book fall closed.
"I won't bother you anymore. I'll stay out of your way, Mr. Laurent."
"Don't play the victim," Kairo muttered, sipping his wine.
"I'm not," Elián said, turning to leave. "You made me a ghost in my own life. I'm just learning how to float."
That night, Kairo watched the door Elián disappeared behind.
He didn't follow.
He didn't even look back.
But something inside him—a thread pulled taut for weeks—tugged violently.
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The next morning, Kairo woke to silence again.
Elián had cooked. Again.
Two plates, one already cleared.
Kairo stared at the untouched toast on his side of the table.
He sat.
Picked it up.
Bit into it.
And almost flinched at how warm it still was.
As if Elián had waited for him again.
Just a little longer this time.
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End of Chapter 9