The Alchemist of Broken Dreams by Sienna Rose Blackwell 59
DYLAN
Dinner felt like a scene I didn’t belong in.
We sat across from each other at the small dining table, plates rihtly arranged, food still steaming, yet everything felt cold. The quiet between us wasn’t peaceful–it was heavy, tight, like invisible hands squeezing around my chest.
He tried to act normal. He spooned food onto my plate, his expression soft, almost tender. “You should eat more. You barely finished lunch,” he said gently.
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah… I will.”
My fork scraped lightly against the plate as I moved the food around, pretending to have an appetite. Every now and then, I’d lift a bite to my mouth, chewing slowly, swallowing despite the knot lodged in my throat.
He watched me.
Too closely.
Like he was making sure I stayed right here, like he was afraid I’d slip through his fingers the moment he looked away.
“So,” he tried again, voice light, “how was the shop today? You seemed tired earlier.”
I shrugged a little, not trusting my voice too much. “Busy. But manageable.”
Lies. My mind had been a storm the whole day and even worse tonight.
He smiled, relieved by the normalcy of the conversation, but it never reached his eyes.
Silence fell again.
The air buzzed with unspoken things. His earlier words echoed endlessly in my head.
My stomach twisted.
Was that cousin story really all there was?
Or was I the “problem” he was desperately trying to keep contained?
I took another sip of water, trying to steady myself. I could feel his gaze every time I lowered my eyes. Every clink of silverware sounded too loud. Every breath I took felt too careful
He finally exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know today must have been a little overwhelming,” he murmured, gentler now. “But everything is okay, alright? I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”
Safe.
The word lingered between us, fragile and uncertain.
I nodded again, because what else could I do? “Okay.”
He smiled softly, satisfied enough with that answer, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear like nothing was
wrong.
But the truth sat heavy in my chest.
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Chapter 59.
Nothing about tonight felt safe.
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And as we continued eating in that suffocating quiet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever he was hiding… I was standing right in the middle of it.
After a while, he finally broke the silence with a soft breath. “You should take your meds before you sleep,” he said gently, standing up from his chair. He walked to the cabinet near the fridge, opened it, and pulled out a small white container–the same one I’d seen countless times.
He returned to the table and placed two pills in front of me along with a glass of water. “For your headaches,” he reminded me, voice calm, almost soothing. “You said earlier you felt dizzy again, right?”
I stared at the pills.
They sat so harmlessly on the table… yet a strange chill slid down my spine. I couldn’t explain it. There was no reason to doubt him–he’d been the one taking care of me since day one. He made sure I ate, made sure I rested, made sure I was “okay.”
So why did these tiny tablets suddenly feel so… dangerous?
My fingers curled in my lap.
He watched me, not pressuring, but waiting. Patient. Too patient.
“I… I’m not sure I need them tonight,” I murmured, eyes still fixed on the pills.
He gave a small chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know what the doctor said. You shouldn’t skip them. They help stabilize things–your sleep, your memory, your headaches.” Then his tone softened even more, as if trying to reassure me. “I just want you to feel better, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
The word wrapped around me like a chain.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Doubting him is wrong, I told myself. He’s your husband. He loves you. He’s been by your side when no one else was. He wouldn’t hurt you.
Still… my chest felt tight.
“I’ll take them,” I finally said, forcing a small smile. “But… I think I’ll take them in my room before I sleep. I’m really tired. I just want to lie down already.”
For a split second, something flickered in his eyes–worry? Frustration? Possession? I couldn’t tell. Then, just like that, it vanished and he smiled again.
“Of course,” he said gently. “That’s fine. Just don’t forget, okay?”
“I won’t,” I answered quietly, slipping the pills into my palm. “Good night.”
He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to my forehead, lingering just a little too long. “Good night,” he murmured.
I stood, feeling his gaze on my back as I walked away from the table. Each step toward my bedroom felt heavier than the last. I closed the door and leaned against it, my heart pounding.
The pills lay warm in my hand.
And even though I’d promised to take them, they suddenly felt like the last thing I should ever trust.
As soon as I stepped into my room, I quietly turned the lock, my fingers trembling just a little. I didn’t slow down. I went
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Chapter 59
straight to the bathroom, closing the door behind me as if someone might burst in any second.
I opened my palm.
The tablets sat there, small and innocent, yet my chest tightened just looking at them. For two years, I trusted that they were for my “recovery.” For two years, I swallowed whatever he handed me without question.
Maybe they were harmless. Maybe they were helping me.
But that same uneasy voice in my chest whispered no.
My jaw tightened.
Without giving myself time to think–or doubt–I flipped the toilet lid up and dropped the pills into the water. They sank slowly, like tiny white lies finally losing their grip on me. I pressed the flush.
The whirl of water sounded louder than it should have, like a secret being washed away.
When the sound faded, I stood there staring at the clear water swirling back into place. My heart was pounding.
I turned to the sink and splashed cold water on my face, breathing slowly, steadying myself.
Whatever my “husband” was hiding. Whatever truth he was desperate to control…
I was done being the obedient wife who didn’t question anything
Something wasn’t right.
And I was finally ready to find out what it was.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
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