Served Scraps By My Cruel Husband

Bolden sat alone at the breakfast table, the expensive china gleaming under the chandelier. An empty chair mocked him. Cassie' s chair. He hadn't seen her all morning.

He tried to tell himself she was just resting. Or maybe, she was jealous. A small, perverse thrill ran through him at the thought. Good. Let her be jealous. It meant she still cared. Still needed him. Still knew her place.

He smiled, a humorless twist of his lips. Her recent compliance, the way she had eaten those scraps yesterday, the way she had thanked him. It had been… satisfying. She was finally broken. Finally receptive to his control.

He remembered the old Cassie. The one who argued, who challenged him, who burned with a fire that sometimes intimidated him, sometimes thrilled him. She was possessive, demanding, always wanting his attention. But that spark had been replaced by a vacant stare, a passive obedience.

He had bought her flowers yesterday. White lilies, her favorite. He even thought about arranging a surprise trip for them, a romantic getaway to Paris, where she used to love to photograph the cityscapes. He remembered her passion for photography, how she would spend hours capturing the perfect light. She had refused to take a family photo with him and Leo. He' d interpreted it as a sign of her bitterness, her resentment.

He pulled out his phone, typing a quick message to her. Hope you slept well. Big surprise planned for us tonight. Don't tell Kandace. He hit send, a flicker of hope in his chest. No reply.

He frowned. She used to respond instantly. Always so eager to connect. Always so thoughtful. He remembered when he had a minor cold, she would bring him hot tea with lemon, tuck him into bed, and read to him. She would soothe him, care for him. Now? Now he had Kandace, who complained about her broken nail while he was trying to figure out what to do with a screaming baby.

A sudden, sharp pang shot through his chest. It felt like a cold, empty space had ripped open inside him. A sense of profound loss, something he couldn't name.

His phone buzzed. Not Cassie. Kandace. A photo. She was holding a bouquet of white lilies, her face beaming. Thank you, darling! These are exquisite! What's the surprise? Can't wait!

Bolden stared at the screen, then slowly, deliberately, turned his phone off. The emptiness inside him grew, a chilling void.

He looked out the window, his gaze falling on the towering skyscraper of Mathews Corp, dominating the city skyline. Cassie's father had built that. He remembered the night he proposed to Cassie, on the rooftop of that very building, under a sky full of stars. He had arranged for the entire building to light up in her favorite color-a soft, ethereal blue, just for her.

She had cried that night, her arms wrapped around his neck, her voice choked with emotion. "I love you, Bolden. Forever. You're my everything." She had whispered it against his lips, her body pressed tight against his, full of warmth, full of life.

The building glowed blue now, a cruel reminder. His heart ached, a deep, unfamiliar pain. He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly across the marble floor. He had to go. He had to see her. He rushed out of the dining room.

He strode through the quiet halls, expecting to find her. But the house was silent. Empty. No trace of her anywhere.

A chilling realization washed over him. He couldn' t remember the last time he' d seen her truly smile. Not a polite, empty smile. A real one. The kind that lit up her eyes.

He threw his jacket onto the sofa, frustrated. Just then, Kandace emerged from the master bedroom, half-dressed, a silk robe barely clinging to her body. She smelled faintly of his cologne, mingled with her sweet, cloying perfume.

She slinked towards him, her fingers tracing the lapel of his discarded jacket. "Bolden, darling," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "Why the long face? Come back to bed." She leaned into him, her body soft and yielding.

He flinched, remembering Cassie' s strong, lean body, her scent of jasmine and something uniquely hers. Not this cloying sweetness.

"Not now, Kandace," he muttered, rubbing his temples, a headache blooming behind his eyes. He gently pushed her away.

Her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?" Her voice turned sharp, accusatory. "Are you seeing someone else? Is it that old flame, Rebecca? I saw her picture on your desk!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Kandace!" He snapped, his patience wearing thin. "I'm always here. Where would I even go?" He gestured vaguely around the empty house. "My only contact is with you and the staff."

"Oh, really?" She scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest. "Then why were you so distracted this morning? And why is your phone off? Or was it… she who kept you busy? Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at her, Bolden. You belong to me now. And if you think you can just run off with some pathetic excuse for a woman, you're sorely mistaken. We have a child together, remember?"