Page 25 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

I asked a servant where Liam was. The drawing room. When I pushed the door open with the plate in hand, he was on the carpet drawing, colored pencils scattered everywhere. His ears were sharp. He turned his head eagerly—then saw it was me. His face shut down.

"Liam," I said with a smile, walking in. I sat down a few feet away from him and set the plate on the carpet. "I baked a cake."

Liam kept drawing. "Don't want it."

"Oh." I shrugged, picked up a piece, and took a bite. The toasted almond flour spread through my mouth, the crust crisp, the inside soft. I chewed twice, not looking at him, pretending to talk to myself. "So good."

His pencil stopped.

"Crispy on the outside," I said, taking another bite. "Soft inside. I can't finish this by myself. Shame to waste it."

He didn't turn around, but his pencil slowed on the paper. I chewed a little louder, letting the crumbs make a faint crunch in my mouth. I saw the back of his head move slightly—that little motion of wanting to turn but holding back.

"I can't eat any more," I said, fighting a smile, raising my voice. "I was hoping to share with someone. If no one wants it, I'll have to throw it away."

His pencil stopped completely. He twisted around, eyes glued to the cake in my hand.

"You really can't finish it?" Liam's tone was still stiff, but thawing.

"Nope," I said, waving the half-eaten piece. "Want to help?"

Liam clutched his pencil, lips pressed tight. He looked at the cake, then at me, then at the cake again. "Then... I guess I'll try just a tiny bite." He said it quietly, like he was convincing himself.

"Sure." I pushed the plate toward him. "But first, let me see what you drew."

He hesitated, then held up the paper. A wobbly little stick figure and a bigger, shapeless yellow blob.

"What's this?"

"That's my dad." He pointed to the smaller figure, then paused, voice dropping. "That's a dog. The dog from the estate."

"It's really good." I clapped. "You earned a piece."

Liam hadn't expected praise. His expression softened. He dropped the pencil and grabbed a small piece, shoving it in his mouth. After two chews, his eyes lit up. He reached for a second piece, a third, cheeks puffed out.

I watched his bulging cheeks. Made me want to poke them. But I resisted.

"Can I draw you a picture too?" I asked.

Liam, mouth full of cake, mumbled something. Probably "okay." I took the colored pencils and drew a flower on the blank space beside him. White petals, green leaves. Simple. He leaned in to look, nose almost touching the paper, still clutching a fourth piece of cake.

"How is it?" I asked.

Liam looked reluctant, but I stared at him, and he'd just eaten my cake. He grunted.

"Not bad," he said, then added, "But Mommy Lina's way better."

Still, we'd gotten closer today. I was happy.

Liam picked up the paper to keep drawing.

But he froze.

His face suddenly scrunched up. The cake was still in his mouth, unswallowed. His breathing quickened, turned sharp, a blocked sound rising from his throat. He dropped the cake and clutched his neck with both hands.

"Liam?" I rushed to his side.

He didn't answer. His lips turned purple, his whole face flushed red. He curled up on the carpet, making a raspy, wheezing sound. I pulled him into my arms. Fine red hives were breaking out across his skin.