Chapter 2

Hearing Chad say that, Clara moaned even harder, purring his name like a love-struck puppy.

I clenched my fists and pulled back my foot. My phone had been recording the entire time. Gritting my teeth, I realized the wedding still had to go through tomorrow. Since things had come to this, I wanted to see exactly what Chad planned to have her do.

Once I got all the audio I needed, I slipped quietly out of the garage.

Stepping back into the mansion, a courtyard overflowing with wild roses met my eyes.

Roses were Clara's favorite. When I bought this estate, she insisted on filling the entire yard with them. She never once cared that I was deathly allergic to pollen.

Every blooming season, I lived on antihistamines like they were candy.

Yet whenever Clara stood smiling in that sea of blossoms, I genuinely convinced myself that suffering through the allergies was worth it.

I reached out, lightly brushing a delicate rose petal, then closed my fist tight and crushed it. The petals broke between my fingers, and the sap immediately caused bright red hives to erupt across my skin.

After a long silence, I threw the mangled flower onto the ground.

Maybe I should have realized it long ago. My relationship with Clara was just like me and these flowers.

When you force yourself close to something you shouldn't touch, pain is the only outcome.

Looking around at the yard, I dialed the landscapers and told them to tear out every single bush.

By the time Clara came home, most of the roses were already gone, and the crew was leveling the soil. Seeing the scene, she charged up to me and snapped furiously, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you rip out all the roses?"

I looked up at her. On her exposed neck, a couple of fresh, purplish hickeys were barely hidden. Noticing my gaze, Clara instinctively turned her shoulder away.

"I'm asking you a question! Why did you tear them out? Don't you know roses are my favorite?"

Seeing me stay silent, she threw a petulant tantrum. In the past, whenever she pouted like this, I found it adorable, treating it as cute affection. Now, looking at her, a wave of pure disgust washed over me.

What gave her the right? She gave her wild, sensual side to another man, yet came home to take out her bad moods on me, acting completely entitled just because she knew I loved her.

I let out a cold smirk inside, then raised my swollen, hive-covered hand. "I just got sick of suffering from pollen allergies, so I had them removed."

"If you have allergies, can't you just take your pills? We live in this house together! Couldn't you even discuss it with me before ripping them out?"

Clara glared at me with sheer annoyance, as if pulling out the plants that made me sick was an unforgivable crime.

I took a deep breath, meeting her eyes. "Clara, does my health really mean nothing to you?"

Maybe sensing my anger, the irritation on her face softened slightly. "Look, I was just upset that my favorite flowers were gone. It doesn't mean I don't care about you!"

I stared at her for a long second, then said nothing and walked back to my room.