He looked so pure, so handsome back then.
As she flipped through those youthful snapshots, laughing and crying in turn, it felt as if time itself had rewound.
Suddenly, she yearned to revisit those memories.
To say a proper goodbye to the Xavien she once knew.
That evening, Xavien came home for dinner-a rare occurrence these days.
But she hadn’t cooked for him.
She didn’t want to.
Instead, she tossed him a dusty, dented tin of survival rations she’d found buried deep in the back of the pantry-long past its prime.
He stared at it in disbelief.
“Or you could eat somewhere else,” she offered coolly.
“You seem to prefer everything outside this home anyway-other women, other beds… maybe even scraps from someone else’s table taste better than what you get here.”
His expression darkened immediately.
“Other Alphas come home to warm meals and loyal mates. And you hand me this?”
*I’m showing remarkable restraint by not slipping silver dust into his drinks,* she thought bitterly.
Too tired to argue, she added, “There’s a tomato hotpot. I was going to eat it myself, but you can have it.”
Now Xavien was truly angry. “Have you forgotten I never eat tomatoes?”
She smacked her forehead mockingly. “Oh, I totally forgot.”
His face turned icy as he stared at her for a long moment before storming out of the kitchen and heading upstairs.
Celina carried her tomato hotpot to the dining room, found a comedy show to watch, and finally enjoyed her meal in peace.
Celina
After dinner, I settled onto the sofa, curling up as I stared blankly at my phone’s screen. The chat window with Lian was still open, my fingers hesitating above the keyboard. I had started typing and deleting at least four different messages, each one discarded before I could send it.
What on earth was Sebastian Black playing at? First, he gave me his measurements, then vanished into silence. Was this some kind of game-a power move to unsettle me? The uncertainty gnawed at me.
I let out a long sigh and tossed my phone aside, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Regardless of Sebastian’s mysterious motives, it didn’t matter. Outside of this unresolved suit issue, our paths would never cross again.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway outside the living room, snapping me back to reality. Hastily, I shut the chat window and stretched my legs out, trying to appear relaxed and nonchalant.
Xavien stormed into the room, his face clouded with anger. “Where are all your clothes? Your shoes? Your jewelry? Your bags?” His voice was sharp, almost accusing.
My heart skipped a beat.
[Stay calm], I told myself silently.
But how had he found out? Why was he home early for dinner, and why was he rifling through our closets? Was someone watching me?
“I took everything for cleaning and maintenance,” I answered, forcing a casual tone while masking the confusion I felt inside. “The clothes and shoes are at the dry cleaner’s.”
“All of them? At once?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
I shrugged with practiced ease. “I’ve been bored with nothing to do, so I decided to clean the house. I couldn’t remember which clothes I’d worn and which I hadn’t, so I just took everything to be cleaned. Same with the jewelry-diamonds lose their sparkle over time. The bags needed edge treatment. Since I had the free time, I thought I’d get everything serviced.”
To my own surprise, my explanation sounded plausible, even to myself. I’d become skilled at weaving half-truths like this.
Xavien’s furrowed brow slowly relaxed as he absorbed my words. The suspicion in his eyes softened, likely recalling how I’d been busy tidying the house lately.
“You don’t have to rush,” he said, his voice losing some of its edge. “You’re not going anywhere. Take your time organizing.”
“Well, I want everything clean before our trip,” I replied smoothly. “Since I’ll be gone for a few days, I thought I’d leave everything tidy.”
Though technically truthful, I noticed a flicker of unease cross his face. Something in my tone unsettled him. His gaze drifted to the navy blue shopping bag resting on the sofa, and he reached out to grab it.
“This is for me-“
“No!” I moved instinctively, stepping forward to block his hand before he could touch the bag.
The motion was so sudden it stirred the air between us.
The atmosphere thickened instantly.
Xavien’s face darkened little by little, his tentative smile melting away like frost under a harsh sun. His eyes turned cold and sharp, like a blade.
“It was for my father,” I added quickly, my voice smoother than I felt, though my chest tightened painfully.
The hurt in his eyes appeared too suddenly, catching me off guard. A mixture of annoyance and reluctant disbelief flickered there, as if he was wounded by the shattering of a shared fantasy.
“You bought something for your father, but didn’t prepare one for your mate?” he said, voice low and wounded, as though I’d committed an unforgivable offense.
I met his gaze with an icy calm, my tone steady and unyielding. “Still planning to pick out another suit? Or are you thinking of borrowing one from Cira Wynn’s closet? I hear her collection could put yours to shame.”
Xavien opened his mouth but no words came out. For once, he seemed genuinely at a loss for a clever comeback.
He stood there, frozen, as if publicly slapped across the face.
Before he could recover, I grabbed the bag and turned on my heel, heading upstairs swiftly. I entered the study and closed the door behind me.
The rumble of an engine starting drifted up from below, and moments later, I heard his car speed away down the lane.
Only when the familiar sound of the engine faded completely into the distance did I release a long breath, as if surfacing from underwater after holding it too long.
Sunday dawned bright and clear, the perfect day for my pilgrimage.
I found myself wandering the halls of the high school where Xavien and I had first crossed paths. Though it was the weekend, a handful of students in uniforms strolled across the grounds, their laughter ringing softly through the air.
My fingers brushed along the weathered brick walls as I visited each meaningful spot: the classroom where our eyes first met, the tree-lined path where we’d once walked hand in hand, the track field where I had cheered for him at every meet.
Finally, I reached the bamboo grove beside the artificial lake-the secluded corner where our younger selves had buried a time capsule the night before our final exams.
I knelt in the soft earth, digging carefully until my fingers grazed metal. Pulling the small box from its resting place, memories surged back: Xavien dragging me out of night study, the darkness pierced only by our phone flashlights, writing our dreams and promises on paper balanced awkwardly on our knees.
“We’ll dig this up together in twenty years,” he had said, his eyes catching the faint light, shining brighter than any star.
I opened the box and removed only my capsule, leaving his dreams buried beneath the soil.
“Goodbye, Xavien,” I whispered softly, feeling lighter than I had in years.
Xavien
The office shutters were drawn tight, and the doors locked securely.
I sat heavily in the chair, knuckles ward from gripping the crumpled project proposal Cira had handed me.
She smiled seductively, the red dress clinging to her like a coiling serpent, fingers tracing upward from my knees with practiced ease and unrestrained skill.
I didn’t move-not because I enjoyed it, but because I didn’t bother to push her away.
I knew Cira wasn’t like Celina.
But she was forward, knew how to please, cheap and obedient, trading her body for pampering without hesitation and even with pride.
Most importantly, she was Alpha’s daughter.
“Still angry?” she whispered, leaning close until her lips nearly brushed my ear. “I can help you forget her.”
“Right here?” Cira’s hand was already undoing my pants, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
“Stop causing trouble!” I snapped, pulling her hand away and slapping the proposal onto the table, scattering the papers across the floor.
“You’re called to work overtime? How dare you take this level lightly?”
I knew she couldn’t do the job, but I hadn’t expected it to be this bad. I used to find her confusion endearing.
Now, I just felt disgust.
Rubbing my temples, I couldn’t stop replaying Celina’s image in this very office-calm, composed, precise, every word in meetings clear and powerful.
She was the one who deserved this position.
“Why are you so angry? She’s gone. You’re mine now,” Cira said again, her voice dripping with false sweetness, making my irritation flare.
My phone rang.
I answered, “Speak.”
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