Chapter 862: Chapter 862



Pulling away, Dulce fixed her gaze on Michael’s stoic face.

With unflinching calm, Michael continued, “I’ve deployed a team around your office. Should I have been delayed, they were ready to step in to safeguard you. They’ve…”

“Neutralized the threat lurking near here on their approach. Rest assured, you’re secure.”

Bewildered, Dulce inquired, “Then why make the journey here yourself?”

“You’re a key witness, Dulce. Protecting you is not just my job—it’s an oath I swore to Jett.”

As Dulce peered into Michael’s eyes, she saw a man who epitomized perfection, without a single blemish. She had believed their shared trials had brought them closer. However, their connection remained superficial.

Dulce’s smile slowly morphed into a somber grimace. “Regardless, I owe you my thanks.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Michael seemed to detect a flicker of disappointment in Dulce’s eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, elusive like sand slipping through his fingers.

They made their way back home.

Before departing, Michael had already begun preparations for dinner.

In the kitchen sink, a lively bass fish awaited its fate.

Michael slipped into an apron and moved towards Dulce, tenderly patting her head. “Bet your stomach’s growling by now. I’ll start cooking. We’re having steamed bass today. You enjoy fish, don’t you?”

In that instant, a surge of sadness threatened to overwhelm Dulce. She recognized that although the comforts of the home were tailored to her—cherries perpetually stocked in the fridge and the living room TV always tuned to the latest variety shows—her emotional connection with Michael had stagnated.

Here, within these walls, Michael’s nurturing was boundless, but beyond them, his feelings towards her felt obligatory, devoid of passion. The atmosphere turned unbearably quiet, the silence laden with things left unsaid.

gⱯlnσνe𝓁s․com is your update hub “Michael, the truth is, I can’t stand fish, I despise cherries, and I loathe those variety shows.”

The smile on Michael’s face vanished abruptly.

The picturesque life he had imagined for them, with Lacey in mind, shattered—fragments of the dream scattering like broken glass.

“These are all the things Lacey liked, weren’t they?” Dulce asked. Once, she believed love was about compromise, endurance, and acceptance.

She had hoped that today, Michael had shown up for her. But he hadn’t.

She struggled with the idea of being merely a replacement for living in this house, as if she were just a stand-in, tasked with solving Michael’s regrets about Lacey.

Her feelings were overwhelming. The closer she became to Michael, the more intense her desires grew.

Regardless of how Michael might react, Dulce expressed all her pent-up thoughts.

“Before, it didn’t bother me that you still carried Lacey in your heart. As long as I could be near you, I was willing to do anything.”

Dulce lifted her head, shielding her eyes with her arm to hold back tears.

“But I still hope that you appreciate me for myself, Dulce, not as a shadow of Lacey.”

Michael bowed his head, his fists clenched, his frustration palpable.

Why did Dulce have to lay everything bare?

He knew she wasn’t Lacey—he knew that more than anyone.

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