Chapter 5

"That's not my pup! Our pup would've been so adorable!"

I cried out to Charalambos desperately. I clung to the hope that he might still have some love left for the pup we never got to meet.

But he only replied coldly, "Francine, the pup's gone. Holding on to old things and grieving like this? You're just fooling yourself.

"You're making a scene over nothing. What will the rest of the pack think of me?

"You're being immature. Calm down, will you?"

Then, right in front of me, he scooped Francesca into his arms and left.

I collapsed to the floor, sobbed uncontrollably, and finally let it all out.

Once the tears ran dry, I gathered the torn clothes and the shredded photos, carefully piecing them together by hand.

I found glue and mended the photos.

I touched them as if they were sacred relics and cradled them gently.

For the first time in days, the pain in my chest eased just a little.

These photos were all I had that said my pup ever existed, but Charalambos would never understand what this meant to me.

Not long after, he returned. He knelt down beside me and reached out to stroke my hair.

"Don't touch me!"

I jerked away, unable to bear his hands on me anymore.

His expression darkened. The next moment, he yanked the photos from my hands and threw them into the fireplace.

The flames devoured them in seconds.

I screamed and lunged forward, trying desperately to save the remnants. But he held me back, wrapping his arms around me and forcing my face toward his.

He grabbed my chin and made me look into his eyes even as mine filled with tears.

"Francine, our pup was never born. He's gone. He died years ago."

His words cut sharper than any knife.

At that moment, I saw things for what they really were.

His heart wasn't big enough even for a photo.

Yet he was the father!

He didn't want me to hold on.

He wanted me to forget, but that pup was a part of me.

If I didn't remember him, then no one else would.

"When Francesca has her pup, we'll raise the pup as our own."

He picked me up as if to carry me back to my room.

Just then, Francesca appeared at the door in a lace nightgown, her eyes pleading as she looked at Charalambos.

"I had a nightmare," she said softly. "I'm scared to sleep alone. So is the pup."

Charalambos frowned. He glanced at me. Clearly, he was torn.

Francesca bit her lip and said in a trembling voice, "What if I get so scared I lose the pup?"

That was all it took. He hesitated before gently setting me down.

"Francesca isn't well. I'll stay with her for a bit. Just wait for me, okay?"

"There's no need. Go be with her," I replied.

He sighed in relief after seeing that I wasn't upset.

"I knew you'd come around."

I watched as he wrapped his arms around Francesca and led her into the room.

I waited all night, but he never came back.

I knew he never would.

Charalambos was right about one thing. Holding onto the pup's clothes and photos had been a form of denial.

Even so, I'd keep my pup alive in my heart, and that would be enough.