As a Sensitive, I Saw Another Woman in My Wolf Mate’s Heart Chapter 08

As a Sensitive, I Saw Another Woman in My Wolf Mate’s Heart Chapter 08

He finally signed the dissolution agreement.

He added one condition.

He transferred me five million dollars, saying it was compensation for the twenty-one years.

I did not accept it.

Then he made another request.

He asked for three months before the paperwork went through, saying he wanted to pursue me properly one more time.

When Nova repeated it to me, her tone was complicated.

“He said he owes you a real courtship. Before, you were always the one chasing him. From seven to twenty-eight. This time, he wants to be the one chasing you.”

“Let him do what he wants.”

The next day, the flowers arrived.

A huge bouquet of red roses blocked the entrance of my studio.

The card read:

[Day 1.]

I told the front desk to send them back.

On the third day, they came again.

The front desk said when they returned them, he had someone deliver them again, and asked me what to do.

“Give them to the flower shop next door.”

On the fourth day, the front desk told me the flower shop owner had asked her to pass on a message.

[Thank you, Alpha Silas. Business has been especially good lately.]

He started sending other things.

A bag.

I returned it the same way it came.

A necklace.

On the box was written:

[To make up for our third mating anniversary.]

I did not even look at it before having the courier return it.

He sent a message:

[Can you open it and look at it?]

I did not reply.

Then he started coming in person.

That day, I was meeting a client to discuss a full brand design plan.

My assistant came in and said Alpha Silas was waiting in reception.

I said, “Let him wait.”

The client meeting lasted from two in the afternoon until five.

He sat in reception for three hours.

During that time, my assistant poured him water three times.

He did not drink.

He only flipped through my studio’s design book from the first page to the last.

After seeing the client off, I came out of the meeting room.

He stood, still holding the design book.

“I’ve never seen anything in this book before.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I missed you.”

“Then go home.”

I turned and walked into the studio.

The glass door closed in front of him.

He stood outside, his shadow reflected on the frosted glass.

He stayed there for about five minutes before leaving.

When I got off work, he came again.

He blocked me at the elevator.

“Raina, five minutes. Just give me five minutes.”

I did not stop.

I walked straight to the stairwell.

He followed me, not taking the elevator either, following me down one floor after another.

“What do I have to do for you to come back?”

At the turn of the stairs, I stopped and looked back at him.

“Silas, do you remember when we first held hands?”

He froze, a trace of confusion in his eyes.

“When we were seven? I fell in kindergarten and scraped my knee. You pulled me up.”

“Actually, no. The first time we held hands was when we were five, in the park. You wanted to catch a butterfly. You said there were flowers over there and dragged me along. You didn’t catch the butterfly, but you never let go of my hand.”

“You see, you never remember these things. But I do. I remember every detail from more than twenty years.”

“The first time you peeled shrimp for me, you were thirteen. You placed all the peeled shrimp in my bowl and didn’t eat a single one yourself. The first time you said you liked me, you were sixteen, on the sports field, and your face turned red right after. The first time you kissed me, you were eighteen, under the sycamore behind the school building. The first time you said you wanted me to be your mate, you were twenty-two, on one knee, holding the ring in front of me, your hands shaking.”

“I was always the one remembering.”

“You were the one forgetting.”

I pushed open the stairwell door and walked out.

The underground parking garage was quiet.

Only my footsteps echoed.

He did not follow.

That night, he sent many voice messages.

I did not tap them open.

At two in the morning, the final one came.

“Raina, I was wrong. I didn’t mean to forget. Give me one chance. I’ll remember everything I forgot before. Please.”

I listened to it.

The chat box stayed lit.

His profile picture was still a photo of us together.

I stared at it for three seconds.

Then I deleted the entire conversation.