Chapter 7 A Man Like Rotten Fruit

Cecilia

I said nothing as Xavier's phone continued to light up with that shameless nickname. The vibration seemed to echo through our bedroom like an accusation.

Xavier's handsome face maintained a facade of composure, but I could see the subtle tension in his jaw, the slight twitch near his eye.

The phone wouldn't stop—calls turned to video chat requests, then transformed into an avalanche of text messages, each notification more demanding than the last. Bold. Shameless. Like she knew exactly where he was and didn't care that he was with me.

The tension between us grew thicker, nearly palpable in the darkness of our bedroom.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" I asked, my voice cool as winter frost.

Only then did Xavier reach for his phone. Without even glancing at the screen, he powered it off and placed it back on the nightstand—a performance meant to reassure me.

He reached over, placing his palm against my forehead. "You're still a little warm," he said softly. "It's nothing to worry about. Go to sleep. I'll watch over you."

I lay back down and closed my eyes, my body rigid despite my apparent surrender.

An hour later, I regulated my breathing to mimic sleep, listening intently as Xavier retrieved his phone. His footsteps were soft as he moved toward the balcony, the quiet beep of his phone powering on.

"Are you okay? Don't worry, don't be scared. I'm coming right over..." His voice was a hushed whisper,yet to my ears, it's extraordinarily shrill.

He returned to the bedroom, grabbed his jacket, and left.

The moment the door closed, my eyes snapped open. I had never been asleep.

What was I still hoping for?A man who changes his mind is like rotten fruit - the rot only spreads over time.

At half past four in the morning, Xavier returned.

Seeing me seemingly asleep, he exhaled with relief. He approached, touched my forehead gently, satisfied that my fever had broken.

He headed to the bathroom. I listened to the shower running, the sound of water hitting tile mingling with my own bitter thoughts. When he emerged wearing his robe, he slid into bed beside me, his arm wrapping possessively around my waist as though nothing had changed between us.

After his breathing deepened into sleep, I carefully removed his arm and sat up. I studied his sleeping form with cold detachment—the handsome features I once adored, his thin lips, the sensual curve of his Adam's apple, and then...

My gaze locked onto the row of small, distinctive bite marks along his collarbone.

At that moment, the darkest thought took over my thoughts: to stab him through the heart with a sterling silver dagger, so that this high and mighty Alpha would know firsthand what true pain means.

...

When Xavier awoke, I was already downstairs. I had donned an apron and prepared breakfast for both of us, calling him to come eat as if it were any ordinary morning.

"Your fever just broke. Why didn't you sleep longer?" Xavier approached, reaching to check my temperature.

I subtly shifted away from his touch. "It was just a small cold. Nothing serious."

I removed my apron and sat down at the table. Xavier looked at his empty hand, momentarily awkward, but seemed reassured by my calm demeanor. He joined me at the table.

"I want to discuss something with you," I began, my tone deliberately light.

"What is it?" he asked, taking a sip of his juice.

"I want to resign from my position at the company."

My words clearly stunned him. Before he could ask why, I continued: "I've been focused on work for years. I'm tired. I want to experience what it's like to live the pampered life of a wealthy alpha's mate for once."

Xavier studied me, trying to determine if I was serious.

"Are you sure you're not joking?" he questioned.

"I'm not joking," I replied with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "What, do you think I'm some kind of masochist who doesn't know how to enjoy life?"

After consideration, he agreed. "Not working might be good for you. You can stay home. We could use this opportunity to try for a pup."

I smiled noncommittally. Inside, I was seething. Right, that's your plan, isn't it? Make me your breeding machine while you continue your nightly escapades with your "Sugar Baby." Keep dreaming, Xavier.

"I'll handle my resignation in the next few days. I'm thinking of traveling to Europe—I've made plans with Harper. It's been ages since I've traveled."

"Her law firm isn't keeping her busy? She has time to travel with you?" His tone was slightly suspicious.

"Oh, she's very busy," I said, my smile bright and false. "She's making special time for me."

Xavier fell silent, something clearly turning in his mind.

After a moment, he spoke again. "A trip would be good for you. I'll arrange everything in advance. You won't need to worry about a thing. Just enjoy yourself."

I maintained my smile, neither accepting nor declining his offer. By then, I'll be saying goodbye to you forever.

The wound on my forehead was too conspicuous, and I didn't want to appear at the office looking like a victim during my resignation. I took a few additional days off.

With time on my hands, I methodically packed my clothes, shoes, and personal items, moving them bit by bit to my new home.

A little today, a little tomorrow. The closets were visibly emptying—anyone paying the slightest attention would notice.

But Xavier remained oblivious.

I even took our wedding photo out to the yard to burn it while he was home. He was too engrossed in his phone, alternating between quiet laughter and typing responses to whoever held his attention.

If only he'd spared a single second to look through the floor-to-ceiling windows at his mate...

I stood in the fading sunset, watching him smile at his phone, observing him for a long time.

When the lighter finally burned my fingertips, I released it as if finally releasing hope.

The flames consumed the gasoline, illuminating the wedding photo in the metal barrel. In the picture, I looked so sweet, so happy, and his eyes were full of nothing but me... Then slowly, our faces distorted, melted, and finally became a mass of black ashes...

A sudden sense of suffocation constricted my chest. I stared at those ashes, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

"What are you burning?"

Xavier finally noticed the activity outside and came to.

I tilted my head back, forcing down the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "Nothing important, just some..." I turned to look at him, my slightly reddened eyes contradicting the gentle smile on my lips. "Useless garbage."

Xavier glanced at the barrel billowing with thick black smoke, regarding me as if I'd gone mad. "If it's garbage, why not just throw it away?"

"Burning is more thorough," I replied simply.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

We stood there in the yard without speaking, as the last trace of light on the horizon was swallowed by darkness—much like the last of my hope being consumed by truth.