Wow, this story is so much more well received then I expected. Thank you all for reading it!

I don't own anything. (I don't know why we're supposed to say that, if we're writing here we obviously don't own it...)

The door swung open to an unnaturally quiet house. Haruhi checked the hall clock nervously, The house was never this quiet at noon on a weekday. Usually the staff would be milling about, and at this hour, Kyoya might have a client over for lunch. But the halls were deserted, she felt like a bean rattling around the bottom of a barrel.

Then she heard thumping coming from the dining room, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't completely alone.

Kyoya had actually gone to work that morning, He wasn't one to waste time, moping about. At least, that's what he told himself. In reality, he couldn't bear to be in the house with so many reminders taunting him, alerting him to what he hadn't been able to see.

The staff hadn't been very helpful either, whenever he entered a room, the telltale hush of abruptly ended gossip fell over whoever was there. He felt like he was under a microscope, everyone wondering when the master would crack. Kyoya was not going to give them that satisfaction.

He had to come home for lunch, however, it was a masochistic move, but he was hoping Haruhi would be there, he wanted to see her, so he could tell her they needed to take a break in person. Despite the pain she had put him through, in however short of a period of time it was, she deserved the face-to-face contact.

When he arrived home, and she wasn't there, it only cemented all his theories and convictions. It would be easier this way, being certain of everything.

"Master Kyoya, your wife is home." One of the maids, he never bothered to learn their names, much to Haruhi's dismay, announced. He nodded, focusing on the plate of food that had long ago gone cold. He wasn't hungry. How could anyone be in this situation?

Haruhi consciously slowed down as she reached the dining room, all she really wanted to do was go in there and throw herself on her husband, screaming the happy news to anyone that could hear, but if there was someone else behind the door, that wouldn't do at all.

She opened the heavy dining room doors cautiously, peering inside as she did. Suddenly she was glad she hadn't gone with her original plan. Kyoya looked like a man defeated. Gone was the imposing air that always seemed to hang about him, he was slouched over a plate of food, but looked as though he had no idea it was there, let alone any intention of eating it. Haruhi padded over to his chair softly, he showed no sign of noticing her, and she began rubbing his shoulders, the way he had for her when they were still in high school.

At her touch, he tensed up, sitting straighter then could be comfortable, startling Haruhi, who quickly dropped her hands.

"Rough day?" She asked, taking the seat next to him, and propping her chin on her fist. She couldn't tell him now, not with him being so sullen. Although it could possibly cheer him up, she didn't want to risk botching up this announcement.

"How dare you?" He asked, and for once, Haruhi was actually scared by his glare. "They're all talking." He stood up with such force that his solid oak chair fell back from the table.

"If you were going to do this to my family," Haruhi didn't miss the 'my' instead of 'our' that he used, funny how a simple word could cause her so much pain, " you should be far more discreet about it." He began walking towards the door, never once actually looking Haruhi in the face.

"I'm going back to the office. Don't expect me back any time soon." The words stung, as if each letter was an acid tipped barb aimed directly at her stomach.

"Kyoya." She called out, grabbing his arm just before he left the room. The older man paused, not exactly stopping, but Haruhi could see her window to speak was closing as if a rock were tied to the sash.

"I thought you'd be excited about what I have to tell you." She said, he still wouldn't look at her, and it was making her a little angry.

"It'll be a huge difference." She continued, stopping only when Kyoya's eyes met her own for the first time in their conversation. She was swept up in the beauty his eyes provided, as she often was. Even when they looked as cold and hard as steel, she couldn't help but be enraptured.

"Well, I guess that's an interesting opinion, in it's own way." But the usually joking phrase was now filled with malice and loathing. She stopped short, stunned into silence. What was going on? She couldn't even try to stop him, only watching with a heavy heart at the sleek black car pulled out of the driveway, leaving her.

Kyoya had never been impulsive. Even when he and Haruhi were in the whirlwind days of their courtship, he always meticulously planned out each event days in advance. Haruhi couldn't imagine he'd do anything but actually go to work. The assuredness that thought brought was only a small comfort though. She knew he wouldn't end up dead, but she still didn't know if he'd come home.

What had even made him so angry in the first place? He was fine yesterday, and while he was protective, she had called, so he had no reason to freak out.

She was a grown woman, not a child. She didn't need to be treated like this.

Kyoya sighed, leaning back against the plush interior of his town car.

How could she do this to him? He thought they were doing well, they respected each other, and they had both adapted to the changes in their lifestyle.

She was unhappy. He had made her unhappy. He, Ootori Kyoya, had failed as a husband, and driven his wife to another man.

He had almost lost it, when she walked in. Kyoya had never gotten over how beautiful she was, and how lucky he had been to be her chosen companion. And there she stood in the doorway, practically lighting the room with her afterglow, and wearing the other man's shirt.

Maybe, if she wore her own clothes, they would have had half a chance.

So, everything happens for a reason, right?

Hey, (I've been whoring this out lately :P) I have a fanfiction formspring, if anyone cares enough to ask a question, you'll probably get an amusing answer. formspring. me/ 365Stories

xoxo

Belle