Danielle froze for a moment.
Medication?
What medication?
Was he ill?
But looking at him, you’d never guess he was sick.
He’d always seemed perfectly healthy—never so much as a hint of weakness.
Now, with Rebecca standing before him, Alexander finally let go of Danielle’s arm.
He shoved one hand casually into his pocket, lifted his gaze to Rebecca, and said, “Not taking it.”
Danielle exhaled deeply, uninterested in whatever drama was unfolding. She turned on her heel, ready to leave.
Rebecca’s voice stopped her. “Aren’t you at least a little curious? Not about me, not about him?”
Danielle hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder at Rebecca.
“Rebecca,” Alexander said quietly.
Just her name—enough to warn her off.
Rebecca narrowed her eyes but said nothing more.
Danielle couldn’t make sense of whatever silent game was playing out between the two of them.
She looked at Alexander. “Let’s try to avoid any unnecessary contact between us in the future.”
With that, she turned and walked away.
Nothing good ever came from running into Alexander.
—
After Danielle left, only Alexander and Rebecca remained in the garden.
Silence settled over them, thick and unmoving.
Rebecca folded her arms across her chest and regarded Alexander calmly. “If you won’t take your medication, what’s your plan here?”
“I can’t watch over you forever, you know,” she went on. “I have my own life.”
Alexander lowered his eyes to her. “I know what I’m doing.”
“If you refuse treatment, there’s nothing more I can do,” she pressed.
Alexander turned his head slightly, tongue pressing behind his cheek, then gave a short, sardonic laugh.
“Nothing but side effects. It clouds my mind,” he said.
The medication always dulled his thoughts—he knew it wasn’t just paranoia.
Especially the ones Rebecca prescribed.
Rebecca scoffed, as if he’d told a joke. “So what’s more important—your life, or your mind?”
Alexander didn’t even hesitate. “My mind.”
What was a life without a mind? Just an empty shell, a puppet for others to control.
Rebecca’s words caught in her throat.
He’s insane, she thought.
But she couldn’t argue. In the corporate world, in families like theirs where every move was a battle, quick thinking was everything. One wrong step, and you’d fall from grace in an instant.
She understood those stakes all too well.
Medication dulled the mind and slowed your reflexes—he refused it again and again.
“You do realize how much pain you’re in when you relapse, don’t you?” Rebecca asked quietly. “You haven’t noticed your condition getting worse?”
Alexander’s face was utterly calm, his hand still in his pocket.
“I haven’t.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell