Chased by My Possessive Ex (Dylan) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

DYLAN

I hardly slept last night. I waited for Beckett to come back, but he didn’t. I keep on glancing at the window, hoping to see any trace of him. The sun was already bright and shining, yet Beckett hasn’t come home yet, nor has Sarah. I can’t help but feel worried that something bad has happened to her.

I hate Sarah, but I never wished for anyone’s demise. I want her to disappear from our lives, but I would never dare to kill her.

It’s probably my fear and paranoia that Beckett will finally leave me that I hadn’t clearly thought about my next move. I’m used to throwing tantrums whenever I don’t get what I want, so eventually, people around me, including Beckett, will give me what I asked for.

I decided to get up, my body feeling heavy and my mind numb from the emotional turmoil. Stumbling to the bathroom, I turned on the shower. The sound of the water was a temporary solace from the chaos that had erupted in my life. As the warm water cascaded over me, I closed my eyes, letting the droplets wash away the remnants of my tears. I tried to focus on the simple sensation of the water against my skin, hoping it could cleanse not just my body but also my troubled soul.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, letting the steam envelop me. The warmth was comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled in my heart. Thoughts swirled in my mind—a storm of regret, anger. and confusion.

After a while, I turned off the shower and stepped out, feeling a little lighter but still burdened by the weight of what happened last night. I wrapped myself in a towel. I moved mechanically, drying off and then slipping into my usual clothes–a pair of comfortable jeans and a soft, worn–out sweater.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back. The eyes were the same, but they were filled with a deep sadness and weariness that hadn’t been there before.

With a final glance at my reflection, I turned away from the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom. After that, I decided to go out of my room. I went down the stairs, and as soon as I stepped into the living room, I could already hear a child cooing. Upon entering the room, I found Alice, Beckett’s nanny, carrying the baby as she fed him.

“You’re such a cute baby. You look exactly like Beckett when he was young,” she commented as she played with the baby. The baby giggles as if he truly understood what Alice said. She quickly covered her mouth when she noticed me standing at the door. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. “I didn’t notice you there,” she said nervously. “We’ll just go to the kitchen,” she said before she attempted to leave the room.

“No, wait,” I said, stopping her. “Can I try?” I asked.

She was hesitant, but she still ended up letting me carry the baby. “Do you want to try to feed him?” Alice asked.

He was probably not comfortable with the way I was holding him. His little body squirmed, his tiny face scrunching up as he started to fuss. The whimpering soon turned into full–blown crying, his cries echoing through the house and grating against my already frayed nerves. I tried to soothe him, bouncing him gently and whispering soft, calming words, but nothing seemed to help.

We were in that uncomfortable position, with me growing more frantic by the second, when Sarah and Beckett burst through the door. Sarah’s eyes widened in horror as she saw her son in my arms, his cries reaching a fever pitch. She practically ran towards us, her face a mask of fury and panic.

“What have you done to my baby?” she demanded, her voice dripping with accusation. She snatched the baby out of my hands with a force that took my breath away.

“I didn’t do anything!” I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest. Panic surged through me as I tried to make sense of the situation. This doesn’t look good at all. My reputation had already been tarnished when Sarah accused me of pushing her down the stairs, and now this.

Then, the baby’s cry even became louder as soon as he was in his mother’s arms. “What’s this?” Sarah asked as she lifted the baby’s pants, revealing a pinch mark. “Did you do this?”

“No, I didn’t! I would never hurt a child!” I firmly denied it.

Beckett’s eyes flashed with anger as he stepped towards me. “What the hell is wrong with you, Dylan?” he snapped.

Tears stung my eyes as I tried to defend myself. “I was just trying to help,” I said, my voice breaking. “He started crying, and I didn’t know what to do. But I didn’t hurt him!”

Sarah cradled her son, her expression a mix of protectiveness and anger. “So, you’re telling me I’m the one who did this?” She said it coldly.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” I replied in panic.

“Oh, so you’re pinning this on Alice now?” Beckett interjected. “You never take responsibility for your actions, don’t you? It’s always everyone’s fault but you.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“Stay away from my baby,” Beckett said.

The weight of their accusations crushed me. I felt like a stranger in my own home, surrounded by people who once were a part of my life but now seemed like enemies. I took a step back, my mind racing with thoughts of how to make things right.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to.”

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