My Husband’s Golden Retriever, My Second Life Chapter 08

My Husband’s Golden Retriever, My Second Life Chapter 08

The second labor stretched on for two full days.

On the second day, Wynn suffered severe hemorrhaging.

Mason injected her with coagulants and, against all odds, forced each puppy out, one by one.

Seven pups in total. Every single one stillborn.

Wynn spiked a fever on the third day. By the fifth day, she could no longer move her hind legs.

“She’s paralyzed,” Mason announced after a rough examination. “Nerve damage. She’ll never stand again.”

“Can she still breed?”

“Physically yes. But she can’t push on her own anymore. She’ll need full manual assistance.”

“Then assist her.”

Mason stared at me, his lips parting as if to argue, before he finally conceded a single word, “Fine.”

Ethan returned on the sixth day.

He did not come for Wynn. He came to end our marriage.

“You keep the house and the studio. We split the savings down the middle.” He set the divorce papers on the table, “Sign it.”

I stared down at the document.

In my past life, he’d left me with nothing after my death.

This life, he was afraid.

“Alright.” I signed my name without hesitation.

He grabbed the papers and turned to leave.

“Ethan.”

He froze in place.

“Chloe’s physical body died this morning.”

His entire frame went rigid.

“Her soul’s trapped inside the dog, unable to return. It’s a miracle her empty body lasted this long.”

He still did not turn around.

“Do you want to know her last words?”

Silence hung thick in the air.

“She called your name. Screamed it all night long.”

His shoulders shook violently.

Then he walked out.

The moment the door clicked shut, I heard Wynn’s voice drift from the breeding shed.

No screams.

Laughter.

A dog was laughing.

Wild, hysterical, unhinged laughter.

Chloe knew she was dead. Her original body was gone.

Her soul had nowhere to return.

She was trapped forever, confined inside a paralyzed dog’s body for all eternity.

She had completely lost her mind.

Mason called me in clear panic, “Ms. Hayes, there’s something wrong with this dog. She’s been laughing nonstop the entire day.”

“It’s nothing unusual,” I replied calmly, “She’s happy.”

“Happy?”

“She’s had so many litters. She’s a mother now, of course she’s happy.”

Mason fell silent for a long time.

“Ms. Hayes, what exactly is wrong with this dog?”

“Just a regular golden retriever,” I said flatly, “Nothing more, nothing less.”

I hung up and leaned back against the sofa, resting one hand on my belly.

My baby kicked again, strong and vigorous.

“Almost done,” I whispered softly, “Mommy’s almost finished settling our score.”