How To Lose Your Billionaire Alpha Husband In 365 Days (Or Less)!-Chapter 73: Break Something...

JASMINE’S POV

Aiden’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the counter. The silence between us felt heavy again, no longer angry but loaded with something else: fear.

"Aiden," I said carefully, "what is the curse?"

He froze, staring blankly at me like my face held the answer.

That was it. The question I’ve been waiting to ask. The question, I believe, is the only thing he’s purposely hiding from me.

His throat bobbed once. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"I..." he began, then stopped again. His eyes searched mine. "There’s a lot you don’t know. And some of it... some of it might change the way you look at me."

I didn’t blink. "Maybe. But I think the version I’ve already seen is the worst of you. And I’m still here. So... what else is there?"

His face crumpled, barely, but it was there—a fracture of vulnerability.

Still, he stayed quiet.

I finally exhaled. The warmth of the tea in my chest had faded.

"I won’t force you," I said quietly, pushing away from the counter. "Not now. Not ever. But if you want me to stay, really stay... then you need to trust me with the full story."

He nodded once but said nothing.

"I’ll be in the greenhouse," I added, reaching for the side door. "When you’re ready... come find me."

I stepped into the morning light, leaving him in the quiet kitchen, the air still thick with silence. The air was heavy with things we hadn’t said and the feelings we didn’t know how to fix yet.

As I walked through the halls, Lyra murmured softly inside my head.

"You’re strong, Jas. But he’s afraid. That curse? It’s bigger than both of you. And whatever it is... it’s tied to why he keeps trying to protect you without explaining why."

"Then maybe it’s time he stops protecting me and starts trusting me."

"Agreed."

—

The greenhouse wasn’t peaceful. It should have been, with the vines coiling overhead, the scent of soil and lemon balm in the air, and the filtered sunlight warming my arms. But it wasn’t.

Because I was waiting.

I shouldn’t have been. I told him to come find me when he was ready, not when I needed him to, but apparently, I’m a hypocrite now, too.

I sat on the bench beneath the rosemary wall, chewing on a loose thread of my sleeve and checking the time on my phone every five minutes like a girl waiting to be texted back after saying something vulnerable.

"Still not here," Lyra murmured.

"I know," I snapped.

I hadn’t heard a single footstep. No creak of a door. No sound of hesitation on the porch stairs.

Nothing.

"Maybe he’s just giving you space," she said carefully.

"Or maybe he’s still debating whether I’m strong enough to handle the truth," I muttered. "Like I haven’t survived enough already."

The air in the greenhouse felt too warm, and the rustling of the leaves seemed too loud. It felt like the quietness was closing in on me.

I stood up quickly, and Lyra didn’t say anything. That made it even harder to bear.

—

Once I stepped inside, everything felt... wrong.

The house was way too spotless, almost unnaturally so.

The lights gave off a gentle glow, and the marble floor shined as if it had just been polished. There was a light scent of vanilla and sage in the air—nice enough smells, but just too perfect.

Too clean. Too calm.

Like a crime scene staged to look like a home.

I walked into the living room. Nothing had changed. The pillows were perfectly aligned. The glass vases sparkled. The candles sat unburned, untouched.

Aiden was nowhere in sight.

Still.

I looked around the room like it had offended me just by existing.

Lyra stirred. "You need to break something."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You need to shatter something. Shake the symmetry. Shake the cage before it closes around you again."

"I’m not a child throwing a tantrum."

"No. You’re a wolf with no outlet. That’s worse."

I inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to scream. "I don’t want to lose control."

"You’re not losing control. You’re taking it."

My skin prickled. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to scream. I didn’t even want to punch a wall.

But I wanted to move. To do something.

I turned sharply and marched toward the garage.

As soon as I stepped inside, I could feel the atmosphere shift. It got cooler and quieter, a bit too silent for my liking.

The G-Wagon was parked right in the middle, its sleek, matte-black surface giving off an air of confidence and toughness. It shone under the lights, almost as if it were ready for a showdown.

I made my way over to it, my hand gliding along the edge of a tool bench as I walked.

Lyra’s voice was soft. "You always did think that car looked too smug."

"It does," I said quietly. "Like it knows he’s always the one in control."

I stopped at the front bumper, staring down the silver emblem like it had personally insulted me.

"This is stupid," I muttered. "It’s just a car."

"Sure," Lyra agreed. "But it’ll feel really good."

I didn’t think. I didn’t plan.

I grabbed the keys from the hook by the door. Of course, they were exactly where they always were. Neatly hung, organised, in control.

Not anymore.

Lyra didn’t speak, but I could feel her attention sharpen, coiled tight like a spring.

I climbed into the G-Wagon, slammed the door shut harder than I needed to, and stabbed the key into the ignition. The engine purred to life beneath my hands.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I didn’t even know what I was doing yet; I just knew I needed something to give. To bend.

No one told me how heavy silence could get until I was drowning in it.

I pressed the remote, and the garage door slowly opened, letting the sunlight flood in. I shifted the car into gear. The front gates were open, but that wasn’t my target.

I turned left, heading straight for the pool.

The second the tyres hit the tiled path, Lyra spoke.

"Okay, this is a little dramatic."

"Good," I snapped, stomping down on the accelerator.

The tyres screeched as they skidded on the ground, smoke rising from the burning rubber. I kept my legs down.

I didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch.

The front end hit the edge of the pool, and then the entire vehicle launched, nose-diving directly into the deep end with a huge splash that echoed across the entire estate.

Water shot up like a geyser, creating a chaotic spray all around. Tiles broke, railings twisted, and water splashed everywhere.

For just a moment, all I could hear was noise.

The sound of glass breaking.

Water hissing as it hit the engine.

Metal scraping against concrete.

And then, just like that, everything went quiet. Total silence.

I blinked, still gripping the steering wheel. I was drenched, my hair clinging to my face, and my chest was rising and falling heavily.

And the car? Sinking.

Lyra let out a low whistle. "Well. You broke something."

"I did."

"How do you feel?"

I stared at the dashboard, half-submerged in chlorinated water.

"...Better."

The driver’s side door wouldn’t open, so I kicked it until it did. I crawled out, one shoe floating behind me, dress soaked, and absolutely, completely done with holding it all in.

I swam up, hair plastered to my face, gasping through the cold shock. Chlorinated water stung my eyes, but the moment my head broke the surface, it wasn’t the cold that got me.

It was her voice.

"EMERALD!!!! WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU?!"

I flinched harder than when I hit the pool. "Sophia?!"

I turned in the water, and sure enough, there she was, standing on the deck in heels, a robe, and a messy bun like she’d teleported here straight from a sleepover apocalypse.

Her hands were flung into the air, face twisted in pure horror.

I blinked water from my lashes. "I didn’t know you were coming."

"Oh, clearly!" she shouted. "Because if you had known, maybe you wouldn’t have driven a whole damn G-Wagon into your husband’s pool!"

I shrugged, still floating. "It was blocking the aesthetic."

Sophia threw her arms down like the frustration might exit her through her fingertips. "Jasmine Heart Frost! You just reversed therapy for five years of my life!"

"Technically," I said, swimming toward the edge, "I drove it through the patio doors first."

The sound of footsteps thundered behind her.

And then... Aiden.

I was expecting an outburst, given that I had just driven a car worth over half a million dollars into his pool, destroying both the car and the pool.

But instead, he just rushed in without shouting or calling my name. He ran straight through the broken patio, ignoring the wet tiles and shards of glass. It was like none of that mattered to him.

His eyes were wild and focused, searching for any signs that I was hurt.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, dropping down next to the damaged edge of the pool.