Claire walked softly, plucking tufts of fur from Brody and scattering them beneath the bed.

The next morning, Holden woke up itching all over. He didn’t think much of it, blaming the dust Aunt Willow hadn’t cleaned properly.

Though busy with company affairs, Holden always put Claire’s comfort first. Whenever she said she felt unwell, he delayed meetings to stay by her side.

Before every visit home, Claire sprayed herself with chamomile perfume, the scent Brody adored. At the smell, the dog would leap toward her with excitement.

This time, when Holden arrived, a scream pierced the air, tightening his chest.

“Claire! What’s wrong?” Holden rushed inside and found Brody towering over Claire, who knelt trembling on the floor.

“Brother Holden, I’m scared. That dog lunged at me and tried to bite.” Claire hid in his arms, tears shining in her eyes as she looked up at him, vulnerable and afraid.

Holden began itching again, shooting a sharp glance at Brody. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this. But Alexis is really attached to Brody, so let’s wait until she’s back.”

Since sealing the cooperation with my dad, Holden’s attitude toward me had softened, no longer cold when others were around.

“Alexis? Well, she is the dog’s owner, after all.”

Claire’s face instantly cooled, surprised that Holden hadn’t rushed to deal with the dog for her. She swallowed her feelings and simply nodded in reluctant agreement.

Holden helped Claire to her feet, and she slipped her arms around his neck.

“Brother Holden, let’s go see the baby. He’s sleeping so peacefully.”

“No, I’m going to pick up Alexis. If you’re hungry, ask Aunt Willow to fix you something.” Holden gently pulled away and headed toward the door.

Claire stood frozen while Brody, drawn once more by the scent of chamomile, nuzzled her ankles. Her eyes darkened with a fierce glare aimed at the wagging dog.

….

“Alexis, I’ve come to bring you home.”

“Dad, Mom, some urgent matters at work kept me these past few days. I’m only just free now. Alexis isn’t upset, is she?” Holden appeared with a bouquet of yellow roses, and his apology was sincere.

“Alexis got hurt recently. Take good care of her when you return.”

I stepped out slowly. Holden noticed the injury on my hand and gently took it in his, his eyes glistening with a sudden redness.

“It’s my fault. I should have come for you sooner. Don’t worry, Dad, Mom, I’ll take good care of Alexis.”

Looking at him, I found his expression unreadable. If it weren’t for the photos and videos Claire had sent the other day, I might have truly believed in his concern.

At home, my injured hand made things difficult, so Holden circled around to open the car door for me. Just then, we bumped into our new neighbor, Grandma Selma, who softly commented, “What a kind young man.”

I smiled at her words. Holden turned toward us and spoke boldly, “Of course! She’s my wife. If I don’t treat her well, then who will?” With that, he took my hand and led me inside.

Claire had already laid out a table brimming with food at home, claiming it was to help me recover. She brought over a large pot of sweet soup, but I noticed peanuts settled at the bottom, something I never ate.

“No thanks, I don’t like peanuts.” I waved her off gently. Claire’s hand trembled slightly as she gripped the ladle, her lips pouting in silent grievance.

Holden urged me softly, “It’s just a bowl of soup. Claire spent all morning making it. What’s the harm in trying a little?”

“Claire, serve her a bowl.”

At his command, Claire hurriedly poured a bowl but “accidentally” spilled the hot soup onto me. I reflexively raised my hand to block it, only to feel the scorching heat sear my skin. A sharp cry escaped me.

The sweet soup splattered across my hand and thigh, leaving red, angry burns. I dashed to the bathroom to rinse away the sting.

“Brother Holden, Alexis doesn’t like me. She refused the soup I made, and now it’s all wasted…” Claire’s syrupy voice barely reached me. I had no strength left to care.

Holden hurried to soothe her. “It’s okay. When she comes out, I’ll make sure she drinks it myself.”

After patching up my burns as best he could, the pain in my hand flared sharply. I pushed open the bathroom door, ready to rush to the hospital.

“Let me go. I have to get to the hospital.”

“No need to rush. Eat first. Claire made this with care.”

Holden forced me down at the table. When I resisted, his patience snapped, and he poured half a bowl of sweet soup into my mouth.

The peanuts triggered my allergy instantly. My skin began itching wildly. I struggled free, desperate to escape to the hospital.

“Brody,” Claire said softly.

I froze, confusion swirling inside me. Brody hadn’t been around for days. I called his name over and over, desperate for him to come with me to the hospital, but there was only silence.

Turning to Claire, I asked, “Where’s Brody? Didn’t you just call him?”

Claire remained calm, her eyes flickering down to the steaming bowl of braised meat on the table.

“There, right there.”

“I wanted Alexis to eat before we left. I read somewhere that adult female dogs have the best flavor.”

“I tasted it first. It wasn’t bad. Brother Holden, you should try some, too.”

Her words hit me like a thunderbolt. My limbs went weak, my face drained of color, and fury blazed in my wide eyes as I stared at her.

“You… you did that to Brody?”

“Yes. It kept pouncing on me, and Holden is allergic to dog fur. Besides, we have a baby now. I just couldn’t feel at ease.”

I had always considered Brody to be part of the family. Yet Claire had killed him and even served me a dish made from him after I returned. Fury clouded my vision as I summoned all my strength to storm toward Claire.

Sensing the threat, Holden quickly stepped in, shielding her. “Alexis, calm down. Claire did it for our sake. It’s just a dog. If you want, I’ll buy you ten more.”

But his words didn’t reach me. I raised my hand to slap Claire, only for Holden to block it. His face darkened instantly, and with a harsh shove, he sent me sprawling to the floor. He grabbed the braised meat and tried to force it into my mouth.

My lips quivered, but I refused to swallow. Breaking free, I spat the meat out. The earlier sweet soup had already unsettled my stomach, and I began to vomit bile.

Holden tried to insist, but Claire clung to his arm. “Forget it. Maybe she won’t eat it because I made it. There’s nothing we can do.”

I struggled to my feet, clutching my bleeding right hand, the pain sharp and relentless. Determined, I was ready to go to the hospital for a proper check-up.

“No worries. If she won’t eat it, we will.”

Holden’s careless voice echoed behind me, a cold blade twisting deep into my back.

Just as I reached the door, I collided with Cole Morgan, Dad’s personal assistant, holding the cooperation agreement I’d forgotten here last time.

The peanuts had swollen my airway, choking me, and before I could catch my breath, I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.

“You’re awake, Alexis.” I barely lifted my head and saw Cole watching me with worried eyes.

“Are you alright? You fainted just as I got to your house.”

“I already called President Brooks. He’ll be here soon.”

I said nothing, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I had believed Holden had changed, that he was the man he used to be. But forcing me to drink that sweet soup, knowing I was allergic, all for Claire’s sake. And Brody was gone without a flicker of concern from him.

Hope shattered like glass inside me. Five years of love reduced to a bitter joke. Hot tears spilled freely down my cheeks.

“Alexis, are you okay?” Dad hurried in, breathless.

“I want to go home.” I clung to him, my body trembling, and he rubbed my back gently, trying to soothe me.

“Was it that bastard Holden?”

“Hmm.”

“I knew it. I always knew there was something off about him…”

My father urged me to rest for the night and promised to take me home the next day.

But I tossed and turned endlessly, sleep eluding me like a fading shadow. Quietly, I slipped away, determined to reclaim what was mine. Outside, the car was gone. Holden had already left for the company. Only Claire and her child lingered in the house.

Though my hatred for Claire burned deep, I had no wish to confront her now. I tiptoed upstairs, carefully gathering my things.

I left behind every piece of clothing and jewelry Holden had ever given me. All I took were my personal belongings and a worn iron box filled with the love letters I had written to him, words heavy with heartbreak.

From beneath the guest room bed, I drew out a delicate diamond box. Inside lay the ashes of my son, Nolan. Holden never knew Nolan was gone. He still believed the boy was staying with relatives, just like before.

I placed Nolan’s ashes in the center of the room beside the report from my failed suicide attempt, the one that revealed the miscarriage. Having lost all faith in Holden, I no longer felt the need to hide the painful truth.

Silently, I gathered my belongings and slipped away. Unexpectedly, Claire stirred awake and quietly crept upstairs.

She snatched up the miscarriage report, her eyes scanning the harsh words. Suddenly, the lights flicked on. Holden had returned. Claire hastily concealed the paper in her palm and feigned sleepwalking, staggering drowsily toward the door.

When Holden went to grab clothes and freshen up, the small box on the table caught his eye. He stepped closer, frozen in place, and then his vision blurred as he briefly blacked out.

On the box lay a photo from the day before Nolan’s birthday, taken at a photo studio. Holden stared in disbelief, unable to accept that inside were his son’s ashes. He fumbled for his phone and called me repeatedly, but every call went unanswered.

A heavy wave of helplessness washed over him. “What’s happening? Nolan should still be with relatives for summer break, just like before. How could this be?” Panic gripped his heart.

Desperately, Holden reached out to everyone who might know where I was, but silence met him at every turn. His anxiety deepened.

His eyes scanned the house. My personal belongings were all gone. He fought to control his rising panic. “No, she wouldn’t ignore me. She never has.”

Unable to sit still, Holden grabbed the keys and drove into the night, whispering through clenched teeth, “Alexis, where are you? I’m sorry for what happened today. I was too rash.”

He sent a voice message, but silence answered him once again.

Driven by hope, Holden drove to my parents’ old house, searching for any sign of me. He knocked on the door for nearly half an hour, but no one came.

Just as he was about to give up, he noticed the lights glowing inside. He waited patiently, but still no response came. After being repeatedly turned away, he sighed deeply and left.

Defeated and weary, he turned away, and then suddenly, a spark flickered in his eyes. He rushed to the seaside, that stretch of blue where we had shared our first date.

That place had always been my secret refuge whenever sorrow weighed on me. Holden knew this well. But even there, he searched every corner and still couldn’t find me.

“Alexis, where are you?”

Panting heavily, Holden felt as if a knife pierced his chest. His eyes blurred with unshed tears, and the cold sea breeze only deepened the chill inside him.

He traced every place we had ever been, the theme park, the karaoke bar, the aquarium, but all his efforts were in vain.

Dejected, he returned home to an unusual silence in the early morning. When he flipped on the lights, Claire was nowhere to be found.

Following a faint rustle, he found her in the backyard. To his horror, she was clutching the urn, poised to pour the ashes down the drain.

“Claire, what are you doing?!”