New World with Four Husbands-Chapter 591: Alone

The night deepened, hours stretching into shadows as worry settled over the house like a cloak.

Zaque, Heiren, Quizen, Alhai— they couldn’t keep their fidgeting fingers still or their eyes from the clock at the wall, each tick a reminder of every minute their wife stayed away.

Cleora, her worry sharpest of all, sat by a window, gaze glued on the dark street.

When midnight chimed, a knock echoed through the silence, sharp and startling, the sound jolted through the house like a shockwave.

Alhai suddenly shot up from his seat like a coiled spring released, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he bolted toward the front door, heart hammering with hope and fear.

"Coco?!" He called out before even reaching it, voice cracking on her name.

He threw open the front door wide— and there she was, basking by moonlight on their porch, her shoulders hunched.

For a breathless second, Alhai just stared, then he stepped forward without thinking and pulled her into a crushing hug, relief flooding through every vein in his body

Unbeknownst to Alhai, Sinclair stood quietly to the side, watching as Coco’s rigid frame softened the moment Alhai enveloped her in a tight embrace.

The corners of Sinclair’s lips curved up into a small smile— the first since he felt Coco’s devastating grief.

His eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness, a silent satisfaction shimmering in their depths. He had done his job. He had guided her home, but more than that, he had seen the pain ease a fraction in her eyes with that one simple act.

And that was enough.

Sinclair stepped back as quietly as he could and transformed into his animal form before he flew away.

Alhai felt a sigh shudder through him as he held Coco to his chest, his ears catching the sounds of his fellow mediators hurrying into the hallway.

They were coming, drawn by the noise and their worry— a concerned group, desperate for a glimpse of their wife, but he knew that Coco wasn’t in the mood for any welcome-home celebration.

Her body was too tense, her gaze distant.. And he knew she needed time.

So Alhai scooped Coco up into his arms with a little struggle, her body molding against his like a weary puzzle piece.

Coco immediately turned to bury her face into the crook of his neck, a silent plea for quiet comfort.

The silver haired mediator rushed back inside the house and walked past his waiting fellow mediators, but Alhai didn’t slow his pace even though he knew they wanted to say something, to reassure themselves she was okay.

So, with brisk strides, he carried her up the staircase and away from the worried gazes, but he paused abruptly. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"I’m taking her to Zaque’s room." He called over his shoulder, tightening his hold on her. "Can someone clean up Coco’s room for Cleora? I don’t think she will be able to do it. Our wife is tired."

There was a brief, surprised beat of silence before heads nodded.

With a gentle squeeze to Coco’s waist, Alhai carried her to the second floor and to Zaque’s room.

It was empty, quiet— the perfect place to let her decompress.

Alhai carefully lowered Coco onto the bed, her body sinking into the softness as if it were swallowing her whole.

He was barely pulling back when Zaque stepped into his own room, only to freeze at the sight.

Coco wasn’t just tired, that much is obvious.

She was hollowed out, her silence screamed louder than any cry ever could— and Zaque felt it like a punch to his gut.

He quietly shut the door behind him, crossed over in three strides and gently sat beside her on that bed, close enough for warmth, but not touching. Just being there.

Because sometimes no words, no demands are needed. Just presence and he is more than willing to give it without question.

Alhai laid hand on Zaque’s shoulder, a silent, but firm squeeze was done.

They exchanged a look that was more than words, and in a moment, the message was clear to the first husband. Don’t do anything stupid.

Then Alhai was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him, the sound echoing in the suddenly heavy silence.

It was just Zaque and Coco now. Alone.

Zaque looked at Coco, absorbing the simple rise and fall of her body, each breath a reassurance with life itself and the sight was a balm to his battered heart.

She is here. She is safe.

After long hours of worry and fear, she is there— in his room, still in one piece, but her silence worried him. It was heavy, thick with an unsaid pain.

What could it be? Zaque wondered, but then again, he didn’t want to force it out of her.

Zaque’s gaze swept across Coco’s body and noted that her clothes were quite thin, mainly because it was supposed to be her work clothes.

Thinking to get an extra cover for her to bundle under, Zaque had started to stand up, but a small, desperate action froze him in place.

Coco’s hand shot out, her grip on his wrist so sudden and tight that it startled the breath from his lungs— her eyes were wild, almost panicked, and she was holding onto him like a lifeline, as if he might vanish if she let go.

His heart hammered in his chest, the realization of that silent plea hitting like a wave.

She didn’t want to be alone.

"Shh.." He murmured, his voice soft and quiet. "It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t go anywhere."

Zaque quickly hushed her with soothing tones and gently pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against him and feeling the coiled tension in her body.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I got you, Coco. I got you."

Coco breathed in shuddering gasps, her fingers clutching at his shirt, but the moment he pulled her into his arms, her body slowly relaxed.