what happened? Fem Y/N x Peter

IV

The sound of that slamming door echoed throughout the apartment. The questions piled up like vultures on a carcass, but one dominated above all: what was going on?

A melody began to play in the distance, so, still holding the envelope in his hand, he headed off to find where the music was coming from. He got to the room, the music was coming from what seemed to be his cell phone, with the big difference that it wasn't "his cell phone" or it was or is.

He thought no more and answered the call.

— Hello?

— Hello, my King —he immediately recognized that voice, Lucy, why was she calling him on his cell phone and why the hell had she called him "my King"— I'm sorry I can't come today, baby... —he separated from the cell phone and looked at the contact, which he had it saved as "housekeeper"— ...I think my underwear stayed on the sofa...

He took the cell phone away from his ear and lowered it, as well as his gaze. He didn't hang up, but he didn't want to keep listening either. He looked down at his hands and remembered the envelope TK had thrown at him.

He put the cell phone down where he had taken it from and checked the contents. He looked at the sheets and threw them forcefully across the room.

They were documents to initiate divorce proceedings, along with a handwritten letter from himself addressed to Y/N giving him the reasons why he was asking for a divorce.

He hugged his stomach, a sharp pain came to him; as if his organs were being ruptured. From the pain, he dropped to his knees; he felt nauseous, his head began to throb, a beeping sound began to ring directly in his ears, his vision became blurry and without being able to help it, tears began to flow from his eyes.

He was so confused, the day before he had cut off Y/N's leg and made love to her and now, it was as if his life had been cut off.

Nothing was as he knew it. He was living with Y/N, they were married, but they were not living as a married couple. Earlier that morning, she had left for, what seemed to be his job, without a goodbye, without a kiss, without an I love you. He had been calling her a bitch. He had been cheating on her, he had been sleeping with TK, who was his lawyer; with Lucy who was his housekeeper, and with who knows how many other people. He felt love for her, but it seemed that she did not for him.

He cried bitterly, he didn't quite know why anymore, but he needed to get it all out that had built up in him. He lay down on the floor, hugged his legs, and released his feelings until the tears ran out.

He got up and gathered the leaves he had thrown, fetched a lighter, and burned them. He didn't want to know any more of this disgusting lowliness he was performing. He let those papers burn on the balcony to avoid the smoke while he searched for Lucy's clothes.

One of the sofas was for four people, beige with gold thread embroidery, very much in the classic almost Louis XV style, with lots of cushions. Quite large without them, about the size of a single bed. The other, also for four people, was gray, leather-like, with two large cushions sewn to the back, modern style.

In the second sofa, he found women's underwear and condom envelopes in the folds of the furniture.

— At least I can say I take care of myself —he said to himself, trying to sound funny, but his voice was cut off by the crying that threatened to return.

He took the clothes and threw them in the trash, the condoms in his closet. Tired, he went to the living room and sat down on the sofa from where he got the condoms and looked, for a moment, at nothing.

The front door opened, bringing Y/N back home.

— I'm home! —she announced cheerfully to herself.

He couldn't utter a word, he just stared at her.

— I'll prepare something to eat, I'll celebrate —she spoke happily— so, I'll order from the kitchen.

He looked at her quizzically, what did she mean by "ask for the kitchen"?

— Oh, Peter! I didn't have any eggs and you used yours to make me breakfast —his look turned into a confused one— why didn't you tell me? I would have gone to the supermarket to rep...

A loud sigh escaped Peter's throat as he covered his face. They weren't a married couple, they were roommates and it was breaking his heart.

Y/N heard that sigh and quietly approached him, looking at him in bewilderment.

— Peter, are you okay? —She stood in front of him and asked as she touched his shoulder gently.

Peter looked up as he felt Y/N's hand on him, his eyes were shining. Tears were threatening to appear again, but he didn't want to cry again.

— Peter... —she caressed his cheek and hugged him by the neck— Peter, I don't know what's wrong with you, but relax... I'm here... I'm with you.

Those words, with that calm, understanding, and sweet voice, entered through his ears and cornered in his heart. That Y/N was with him, she was his wife, she could make everything better. His wife deserved to be happy and he could make her happy. He wrapped his arms around her to stick closer to her and inhale her so characteristic scent, also taking the opportunity to hide his face and allow a tear to drop from his eye.