From Betrayal to Baby

I found Max lying on his side in the garden, his body convulsing with violent tremors. My beloved golden retriever—my constant companion through seven years of Cassian's increasing indifference—was struggling to breathe, his eyes wide with panic.

"Max!" I dropped to my knees beside him, cradling his head in my lap. "What's wrong, boy?"

A high, tinkling laugh cut through my panic. I looked up to see Rosalie and Aurelia Lane standing at the edge of the garden, watching with identical expressions of amusement.

"Chocolate is toxic to dogs," Rosalie said, twirling a strand of her perfect blonde hair. "Didn't you know that, Sage?"

The realization hit me like a physical blow. "What did you do?"

"Just a little experiment," Aurelia replied, her voice coolly clinical. "We wanted to see how much it would take. Turns out, quite a lot."

Max whimpered, his body growing heavier in my arms. I fumbled for my phone. "I'm calling the vet—"

Rosalie's stiletto heel came down on my hand, pinning it to the grass. "No, you're not."

"He's dying!" I cried, tears blurring my vision. "Please, he's innocent in all this!"

"Nothing connected to you is innocent," Aurelia said, crouching down to look me in the eye. "Cassian told us how you manipulated him into marriage. How you trapped him."

Max's breathing grew more labored, his eyes fixed on mine with such trust that it shattered what remained of my heart.

"Please," I begged, not caring about my dignity anymore. "Please let me save him."

"You can watch," Rosalie said, her perfect red lips curving into a smile. "That's generous of us, don't you think?"

I held Max as the poison worked through his system, whispering promises I couldn't keep, telling him he would be okay when we both knew he wouldn't. The Lane sisters watched the entire time, occasionally commenting on how pathetic I looked or how Cassian would never have tolerated such an emotional display.

When Max finally went still in my arms, a silence fell over the garden. I bent my head over his body, my tears falling onto his golden fur.

"Now," Aurelia said, her voice cutting through my grief, "crawl over to his doghouse and apologize."

I looked up, not comprehending. "What?"

"You heard me," she said, pointing to the red doghouse Cassian had built when Max was a puppy. "Crawl over there and apologize for being such a terrible owner. For letting him die."

"I didn't—"

"Do it," Rosalie hissed, "or we'll make sure Cassian knows exactly how you've been trying to turn him against us."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew their threat was hollow. Cassian had already chosen them. But grief and shock had stripped away my ability to resist. I gently laid Max's body on the grass and crawled on my hands and knees to the doghouse.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tasting like ash.

"Louder," Aurelia commanded. "And be specific about what a failure you are."

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," I said, my voice breaking. "I'm sorry I was a bad owner."

Their laughter echoed in my ears as I knelt there, broken in ways I hadn't known was possible.

* * *

Max's funeral was a solitary affair—just me and the kind veterinarian who had helped arrange his cremation. I scattered his ashes in the dog park where he had spent so many happy hours chasing tennis balls and making friends with everyone he met.

When I returned home, I knew immediately something was wrong. The front door stood slightly ajar, though I was certain I had locked it. A chill ran down my spine as I pushed it open.

The destruction was methodical and personal. Every wedding photo had been removed from its frame and torn to pieces. The vintage dresses that had belonged to my mother—one of the few things I had left of her—lay in shredded heaps on the floor. And across the mirror in what had once been my bedroom with Cassian, the word "UNWANTED" had been spray-painted in dripping red letters.

I moved through the house in a daze, cataloging each violation. When I reached my jewelry box, I found it empty—my mother's emerald necklace and matching earrings gone. They hadn't been particularly valuable, but they were irreplaceable to me.

I was still surveying the damage when I heard Cassian's key in the lock. He appeared in the doorway, weekend bag in hand, his hair tousled from what had clearly been a getaway with Rosalie.

"What happened here?" he asked, though his lack of surprise told me he already knew.

I was beyond tears now. I moved to the closet and pulled out my suitcase. "I'm leaving."

Instead of showing concern or remorse, Cassian leaned against the doorframe, watching me pack with an expression of mild interest. "Finally doing something right," he said. "I was getting tired of waiting for you to take the hint."

I paused, a folded sweater in my hands. "They killed Max."

He shrugged, as if I'd mentioned a minor inconvenience. "Rosalie said he attacked her. You should have trained him better."

"And my mother's dresses? Her jewelry?"

"Collateral damage," he said dismissively. "You know, Sage, the Lane sisters have taught me what real passion feels like. What we had was... tepid at best."

I continued packing, each item a step toward freedom. His words no longer had the power to wound me—I was already bleeding from too many cuts to feel one more.