Chapter 2

Chase's POV

The words of comfort Cecilia offered were meant for Harry, not me. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, and I finally sank into darkness.

When I woke in a daze, Harry was sitting nearby, blaming himself.

"It's all my fault. He got sick because he went out to build me a snowman. How about this? I've been improving on physical therapy lately. I can treat him and relieve his pain."

His pitiful voice and the gloomy look on his face made Cecilia agree without a second thought. I couldn't stop myself from trembling out of fear.

Harry called it treating me, but in reality, I was just his practice subject.

The last time I refused, they pinned me to the floor, leaving me without a shred of dignity. Harry, far from professional, was clumsy and all over the place.

During one of his attempts, he accidentally spilled alcohol across my back, and it caught fire instantly. I screamed in agony and rolled across the floor. To this day, the scar had yet to fade.

The memory prompted me to open my eyes shakily. I was just about to speak when Cecilia immediately gave the doctor a look. Just like that, a shot of anesthetic was injected into me.

My entire body went limp. Helplessly, I stared as Harry excitedly fiddled with the equipment.

Cecilia noticed the horror in my eyes and gently wiped the tear from the corner of my eye. Her voice was unusually gentle. "Don't be scared. It'll feel good. Nothing's going to happen to you."

I didn't even want to look at her. I closed my eyes in disgust.

The hand gripping my arm suddenly tightened. She snorted coldly, as if offended, then released me and shot to her feet. She didn't leave, though. She only moved a little farther away from the bed.

Harry began inserting acupuncture needles into me. His movements were rough, and he kept hitting painful pressure points. Every hair on my body stood on end. The pain was so intense that my legs cramped up.

Desperate, I couldn't help turning my head toward Cecilia. All she did was gaze lovingly at Harry.

A smug little laugh escaped him as he clumsily toyed with the cupping equipment. It took him several tries before he finally managed to light the alcohol-soaked swab.

My heart pounded as I stared at the growing flame, silently praying that nothing would go wrong. To my dismay, a scream rang out the next second.

The burning swab fell straight into my head. Instantly, my hair caught fire while I was helplessly immobile on the bed.

At the last possible moment, Cecilia rushed over and put out the flames. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, as if something precious of hers had been threatened. She slowly reached out toward me.

Before her hand could touch me, Harry started sobbing. "My finger hurts so bad. I think it's blistering."

Without a second thought, she pulled her hand back, grabbed him, and hurriedly rushed off to find the first-aid kit.

When I finally regained feeling in my body, I discovered that more than half my hair had been burned away. Thankfully, my scalp was unharmed.

I picked up a pair of scissors and slowly trimmed away the charred strands. When I looked up again, Cecilia was standing behind me in the mirror.

Her eyes lingered on the burned ends of my hair, with a hint of pity. She reached out, wanting to take the scissors from me and finish the job herself.

Instinctively, I avoided her. She was stunned at first, but when she saw the weariness in my eyes, something seemed to tighten inside her chest.

"As if I wanted to touch you!" Cecilia snapped irritably.

I didn't argue back. My utter indifference only made her even angrier. "Hey, who do you think you're giving that attitude to?"

In the past, she never had to say anything like that. At any slight change in her expression, I would immediately try to cheer her up. Now, my expression remained as blank as a canvas.

Cecilia stared at me for a while before turning around and slamming the door behind her.

Once my hair was taken care of, I started packing my things. I mailed the important stuff back home and left the rest behind.

My family's business had finally made a full comeback, and all the years I had spent swallowing my pride and keeping my head down had, at last, paid off.

Mom and Dad told me to come home as soon as possible. Although Cecilia and I had walked down the aisle together, we never actually registered our marriage.

The Stone family looked down on me. They said they would only agree to let us register our marriage after I gave Cecilia a son.

But that worked out perfectly for me. It meant I could leave whenever I wanted.

By the time I finished packing, it was already past midnight. Cecilia was still out, which only made things easier for me. I slept straight through until morning, then started carrying my suitcases out.