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I Don't Want a Divorce[BL]

Brian, stuck in a loveless marriage with his military-obsessed husband William, is at his wit's end. William, who bolted for the barracks the day after their wedding, has been MIA for three years, leaving Brian hanging on tenterhooks with only sporadic, nerve-wracking updates about his safety. But Brian's got a plan. He slaps down a divorce agreement, not out of spite, but as a crafty strategy to reel William back in. It's a high-stakes gamble, a desperate bid to make William realize he can't just leave their home in the rearview mirror. Amidst the chaos, their love for each other is the only constant, a beacon in the storm. Will Brian's bold move pay off? Can their love survive the trials and tribulations thrown their way? Only time will tell.

Jade_Quill · LGBT+
Pas assez d’évaluations
55 Chs

Chapter 42

"Go buy a bottle of nail polish. Bright red," Brian told William.

William frowned. "Man, you want me to buy nail polish? That's like asking a lumberjack to buy tampons. Awkward much?"

"It's just downstairs at the supermarket. Go grab one."

"But no one in our house uses that stuff."

"It's for my secretary's birthday the day after tomorrow. She's been working her butt off for me. It's a gift."

"Oh, I get it. You're too embarrassed to buy it yourself, so you're sending me. Fine, I'll handle it."

William realized that Brian didn't want to buy it himself and couldn't ask the secretary to buy her own gift. So, he was the errand boy. Brian just nodded nonchalantly.

After finishing his meal, William didn't just pop into the supermarket. Instead, he drove to the mall and splurged on a bottle of bright red nail polish that cost a pretty penny. The saleslady said it was the perfect shade of red - vibrant and eye-catching.

Back home, he showed it to Brian. "What do you think? Bright red. Will your secretary like it? The saleslady said it's a bold color. You need the right kind of hands to pull it off."

Brian put down his tablet and examined the small bottle. It was his first time handling nail polish. He'd overheard the secretaries chattering about makeup and stuff. It was all pretty alien to him.

"The saleslady said it doesn't chip easily and the color is great," William added.

Brian opened it and sniffed. He didn't like the smell.

"Sit here," Brian patted the couch next to him.

William wiped his forehead and sat down, relieved that Brian wasn't mad at him. He was practically beaming as he sat next to Brian.

Brian, who had an injured hand, pulled William's hand onto his lap. William couldn't help himself and started to caress Brian's thigh. Brian shot him a glare.

"Behave. Keep it here and don't move," Brian ordered.

"Alright, alright," William complied, though his hand was still on Brian's knee.

Brian struggled to hold the nail polish bottle with his injured hand. He dipped the brush and started to paint William's ring finger.

William freaked out and pulled his hand back, leaving a streak of red on Brian's pants. Brian glared at him. "What the hell, man? What kind of guy wears this stuff? It's so tacky! What will people think?"

William was mortified. "Come on, man! I can't go out with a bright red nail! People will think I'm possessed or something! Who does that?"

"You pranked me with that bug feast, sprained my wrist, and almost burned the house down," Brian said calmly. "You said I could punish you any way I want. Don't chicken out now."

"Fine, just punch me or something."

"I'd rather do this. Deal with it."

William was torn. He didn't want to upset Brian, but his macho pride was at stake. He was a tough guy, used to handling guns and facing danger. Now, one little red nail was bringing him down.

Finally, he gave in. He shakily extended his hand, as if he was about to get it chopped off.

"Deal. Just this one nail, okay? Not all ten. I don't wanna look like Doraemon with fists instead of hands," William bargained.

"Deal. Just the ring finger on your left hand. You can't remove it for a month," Brian confirmed.

"Fine, a month it is," William grumbled.

Brian quickly painted William's nail. It was bright red and looked completely out of place on his rough, manly hand. But Brian seemed pleased as punch.

"Let it dry. Don't move," Brian instructed.

William was grinning like a Cheshire cat, holding up five fingers with a look of disbelief. "What the heck is this?" he exclaimed. "A big guy like me with bright red nails? This is so not manly!"

But then he caught a glimpse of Brian, who was trying to hide a smirk. "Alright, alright," William thought. "I can't hear what people are saying behind my back anyway. I'll just scrub my clothes by hand until this nail polish comes off. A few days should do it."

Brian's punishments were never physical, but they were always more thrilling and had far-reaching consequences. It was like losing pride and taking a hit to the gut, all while people whispered behind his back that he was a weirdo. The humiliation was so intense it would leave a lasting mark. William figured he'd probably shudder at the sight of balloons for the rest of his life. Who knew that a little red nail polish could bring down a nearly 6'3" tall man? He couldn't even bring himself to fight back.

Without thinking, William wondered if next time he'd be forced to wear high heels and a miniskirt in public.

He was scared out of his wits. He swore he'd never, ever push Brian to the edge again. That guy played for keeps.

Brian slept like a baby, his conscience clear.

William, on the other hand, couldn't sleep a wink. He stared at his bright red nails and felt miserable. He thought about what the marriage counselor had said, about putting his heart into it, but he couldn't come up with anything.

How could he win Brian over and save their marriage? He couldn't lose patience or hope. It was tough, but he had to figure it out.

William felt like a hero in battle but a total klutz in love. The pressure was immense.

When the pressure got too much, he needed to blow off steam. The best way was to exercise.

He hadn't been to the gym in days. Once his body was back in shape, he needed to get his head in the game. Maybe a run in the fresh air would give him a lightbulb moment.

Before dawn, he was out the door. He left a note for Brian: "Gone for a run. I'll grab breakfast for you on my way back."

Brian waited and waited, but William didn't return. Where the heck did he run off to?

Meanwhile, William ran from the city to the outskirts, passing fields and farms.

Suddenly, he skidded to a halt, smacking his forehead. "Dang it, how could I be so dumb? Brian is a guy! I can't woo him like I would a girl. I need to put myself in his shoes!"

It was like a lightbulb went off in his head.

"If I were Brian, always getting picked on with no one to help, what would I need? It's so obvious! How could I not see it? I'm such a dunce!"

Running really did clear his head. The fresh air worked wonders on his brain.

What's most important for someone who's wealthy but always getting tripped up?

Safety.

Brian had mentioned he took up Taekwondo as a teen and knew some moves, but what if he got jumped by a group? Or what about the time he was drugged and ended up hurting himself with a bottle because no one was there to protect him? William couldn't be with him 24/7, but he could find someone who could.

A regular bodyguard wouldn't cut it. He needed someone skilled. William knew plenty of ex-military buddies who were looking for work.

He could hook Brian up with a couple of bodyguards. Brian had his lawyer squad, his elite squad, so why not a bodyguard squad?

And if Brian ever found himself alone, he needed to be able to hold his own.

Once his hand healed, William could teach him some badass moves. They could bond over it, ensure Brian's safety, and even get some physical contact in.