My Cold-Hearted Husband Wants Me Back
Chapter 187: The Space They Need

Chapter 187: The Space They Need

Lunara shook her head, almost to herself. "Maybe we moved too fast."

Her voice wasn’t angry this time. Just tired. Fragile. Like a thread unraveling.

Eryx stayed quiet, unsure whether to reach for her or give her space. She wasn’t looking at him now, her eyes were elsewhere, distant, like she wasn’t fully in the room anymore.

"We barely had time to breathe," she continued, her tone low. "Sometimes I wonder if we rushed into this... again," Lunara said, shaking her head again.

"Two years ago, we got married because of a deal. We didn’t even know each other. And now... after everything, we just picked up like that never happened. Like we could erase the way we started and pretend this is something normal."

She looked away, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.

"But it wasn’t normal. It still isn’t. We never had a beginning the way most people do."

Eryx’s throat tightened. He had no defense against the truth she laid bare, and no excuse strong enough to make it hurt less.

"You’re right," he said finally. His voice was quiet, but steady. "We didn’t start like most people. I found you because I needed something. And I used what you needed to make you say yes."

Lunara’s gaze flicked toward him, surprised by the honesty in his tone.

"I’ve hated that part of myself every day since," he added.

Lunara let out a shaky breath, her eyes glossing over again. "I think I need time."

Eryx stiffened. "Time?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "To think. To figure out if what we’re doing is... real. Or if we’re just clinging to each other because it’s convenient."

He took a half-step toward her, then stopped himself. "Lunara—"

She shook her head, gently. "Please don’t try to talk me out of this. I’m not walking away. I just... I need space. We both do."

Eryx didn’t speak. His jaw clenched slightly, but his eyes stayed on her.

"We jumped into something again," she said, "but maybe this time we owe it to ourselves to slow down. Really slow down. Not because I’m angry or because I don’t care..." her voice caught for a second "but because I do."

Silence hung between them.

"I’m not asking for forever," she added. "Just... some air. Some clarity. Maybe we’ll find our way back. Or maybe we’ll finally understand what it is we’re really holding on to."

Eryx nodded slowly, eyes lowered, his expression unreadable.

He didn’t try to stop her.

He just whispered, "If space is what you need... I’ll give it to you."

Lunara took one last glance at him. Her chest tightened. There was a mix of sadness and relief stirring inside her, grief for the moment they were stepping away from, and comfort in finally choosing to take a breath.

She turned toward the door, her mind already running through where she would go. Anywhere but here. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere where his scent didn’t linger on the pillows, where the echo of his voice didn’t follow her down the stairs.

But when she reached for her bag and started toward the door, his voice broke through, soft but urgent.

"You’re leaving now?"

She paused, hand on the doorknob. "Yes. I think I need—"

"It’s late, Lunara," he said, stepping forward, his tone shifting from quiet acceptance to barely veiled concern. "It’s not safe. At least wait until morning."

"I’ll be fine," she murmured, not quite meeting his eyes.

"I won’t," he said. His voice cracked slightly, and that made her look at him. "Please. Just stay the night. One last night. I won’t ask anything more of you, I promise. I won’t come into this room. I just... I need to know you’re safe."

She hesitated, her heart clenching again.

"You can leave tomorrow morning," he continued, more composed now but still gentle. "Wherever you want to go, I’ll take you. Myself. Just... not tonight."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, slowly, she let her fingers slip away from the doorknob.

"All right," she whispered. "One more night."

Eryx didn’t say another word. He only gave a slight nod before turning away, his footsteps quiet as he left the room and disappeared down the hall.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence rushed in, thick and almost suffocating.

Lunara stood in the center of the room for a moment, unmoving. Then slowly, she made her way to the bed and sat down, as if her body were heavier than usual. She let herself fall back against the pillows, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The stillness of the space, pressed against her chest.

Her thoughts spun quietly, looping around the same ache.

She hadn’t noticed how much time had passed, not until a soft knock sounded at the door. It was tentative, almost hesitant.

Lunara blinked and sat up, disoriented for a second. Had she dozed off? She wasn’t sure.

Another knock. She stood, padded to the door, and opened it slowly.

There was no one there.

Only a tray, placed carefully in front of the door. A small bowl of soup. Bread. A folded napkin. And a glass of water. The steam was still rising gently from the bowl.

But no sign of him.

Her gaze moved down the hallway, but it was empty. The only light came from the sconces on the wall, casting soft shadows across the floor.

She stared at the tray, her throat tightening unexpectedly.

He had always done that, quiet gestures that didn’t ask for thanks. But tonight, it felt different. Not romantic. Not warm. Just thoughtful in a quiet, distant kind of way. Like he was doing what he could... while giving her the space she asked for.

She brought the tray inside and set it on the small table near the window. The soup was still warm. She sat, her hands wrapped around the bowl, but she didn’t eat right away.

Her eyes drifted to the door again.

’Where was he now? Had he eaten the same thing? Or did he just make dinner for one tonight?’

The silence held no answers.

Just questions she wasn’t ready to ask, and a loneliness she hadn’t expected to feel with someone still under the same roof.