I Cured His Poison, I Left For My Brother

Chapter 2

Anytime I let my disappointment show, he would cup my cheeks in his hands and chuckle, "Clara, do you want my business partners to laugh at me?"

But now? He wore that brooch pinned boldly to his chest, out in the open for everyone to see. Oh, so it was never about getting laughed at. He had turned up his nose at my humble, handmade trinkets from the very start.

When I spoke up, Julian unconsciously brushed his thumb over the brooch, over and over. It looked just like he was caressing a priceless treasure.

His gaze slipped right past me, locking onto the person standing behind the window. A soft smile tugged at his lips. "It is a gift from a very important business partner. I could not very well turn it down."

He probably did not even realize how soft and tender his eyes looked right then, like a young man head over heels in love. I had begged for that look for six whole years and had never once gotten it.

When he noticed my face draining of color, his smile faded. "If you do not like it, I will take it off."

Yet his hand never moved an inch. He was just waiting for me to be gracious and understanding, like a good wife was supposed to be.

When I did not reply, he cleared his throat to cover up his guilty conscience. "I have a business meeting coming up, so I will just leave it on for now."

Of course, he would not take it off. He could never bear to.

Suddenly, his fingers brushed my ring finger, and he froze. "Why are you not wearing your wedding ring?"

I pulled my hand away smoothly, playing it off like it was nothing. "I took it off to do housework and forgot to put it back on."

But he had already looked down at his phone, a smile still tugging at his lips. He was not even listening to a word I said. It took forever for him to even bother lifting his gaze off that screen.

He took the lunch container I had brought from my hands, dropped a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth, and said, "Clara, marrying you is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Suddenly, a new notification popped up on his phone, and he immediately dipped his head back to check it. Then, like I had completely vanished from the room, he strode straight into his office as fast as he could.

When I got home, my social media feed was blowing up. Meredith, who had been gone for six whole years, had actually posted for the first time in forever. The caption read: My good boy's first meal back home.

In the photo, a big dog was eating the exact same meal I had made. All our mutual friends and family, people who never left a single comment on my posts, were swarming her comment section, throwing her a welcome back like it was a holiday.

I did not even care. All I cared about was checking who was the first person to like her post.

It was Julian. And he had changed his profile picture. The year we got married, matching profile pictures made from wedding photos were all the rage. I brought it up over and over, but Julian always turned me down. He even laughed at me and called it childish. But right now, he had swapped his profile picture without a single ounce of hesitation, just so it would match Meredith's cartoon one.

My finger hovered over my phone screen for what felt like an eternity before I finally typed out a line in the comment section.

Clara: [Welcome back, sister.]

In the blink of an eye, the buzzing, lively comment section went dead silent, like someone had hit the pause button. Every single person suddenly lost their voice. Only one of Meredith's best friends, Margie, left a snarky, passive‑aggressive comment.

Margie: [Let's chat in the group.]

I hit the power button without a single ripple of emotion, and the screen went black. This kind of cold shoulder did not even faze me anymore, not after all these years.

Ever since the Hart family took me back when I was twelve, everyone had avoided me like I had the plague. Cold stares, snide comments, social isolation, and petty bullying were all just par for the course for me. My own biological parents doted on their adopted daughter, Meredith, far more than me. I got next to nothing of their care and affection.

The only person who ever cared was Julian, who came around the Hart house all the time to see Meredith. He was the one who noticed I was too skinny and asked if I was getting enough to eat. He was the one who asked if I was struggling with my homework, and he was the first one to notice I was still wearing my ill‑fitting summer and autumn clothes in the middle of winter.

Hell, he was even the one who bought me my first box of feminine hygiene products when I got my first period.

Even though I knew from the start we could never be together, I still fell head over heels for him before I could stop myself.

That all led to the day I turned eighteen, when I stumbled onto him... he had been drugged with a powerful stimulant, and he was rolling on the floor, writhing in agony.