The Peculiar Max

My name is Chloe Loo, and I am thirty years old.

Among my peers, I've always been the object of envy. Raised in a privileged family, I now live in a luxurious villa in a high-end community with my husband, Sean Dung, who is handsome, gentle, and immensely caring—a model husband, as our friends and family would say.

Sean was once a well-known hairstylist, and I run a successful medical equipment company. After our marriage, we had three adorable and beautiful children. Juggling work and raising kids, Sean, concerned for my well-being, decided to quit his job to help manage the company, which thrived under his care. This allowed me to become a full-time housewife, enjoying life and taking care of my family. On the surface, it seemed I had become the ultimate winner in life.

However, after giving birth to our third child, my health deteriorated. My hair began to fall out severely, I had trouble waking up, my weight plummeted, my memory faded, and I felt constantly lethargic and disoriented.

Sean diagnosed me with typical anxiety disorder. He sought out numerous renowned doctors, and secured various traditional medicines for me, instructing our maid to brew them regularly.

Little did I know, this was the beginning of my near brush with death.

One day, I was startled awake by a sharp pain in my head, accidentally knocking over the bowl of medicine the maid handed me. Our greedy cat seized the moment I was still dazed and licked up every drop of the spilled medicine.

By the time I fully regained my senses, it had leisurely jumped onto the windowsill, licking its paws as if washing its face.

When Anna came to collect the bowl, I didn't mention the incident to avoid causing her extra trouble in rebrewing the medicine.

To be honest, I was already weary of the medicine. It showed no effect, and if not for Sean's diligent efforts in finding it and his constant reminders, I would have abandoned it long ago.

Since falling ill, household chores had been managed by Anna. She worked diligently and without complaint, day in and day out, often making me feel a twinge of guilt.

After a brief chat with me, she swiftly took the empty bowl and left to continue her chores.

Turning back to my pillow, I saw another handful of fallen hair—a distressing sight. With a sigh, I gathered the strands, rolled them into a ball, and slipped them into my pocket.

Suddenly, a dull thud echoed from behind me, startling me.

Clutching my chest, I cautiously turned to the other side of the bed, only to find Max, who had been on the windowsill, now lying on the floor, motionless and on his back.

The scene filled me with a sense of foreboding.

"Max!" I called out, but received no response.

A chill ran down my spine, making my hair stand on end.

This was not like him. Cats have nine lives and excellent balance—how could he have fallen from the windowsill?

Was he... dead?

My heart raced to my throat as I trembled, getting up to check. To my relief, I found him breathing, though faintly, as if in a deep sleep.

However, this sleep...

A terrifying thought crossed my mind!

Instinctively, I jumped out of bed, not thinking much, and picked up Max. He was limp and unresponsive, completely defenseless.

I couldn't help but compare his state to mine—was my daily sleep similar to his?

Could it be...

The thought sent a chill through me, as if I were plunged into an icy abyss, afraid to think any further.

Outside the door, familiar footsteps approached—it must be Sean returning...

Reflexively, I held Max and quickly returned to bed, covering him with the blanket to hide his condition. I adjusted my breathing, pretending to be asleep.

As the doorknob clicked, my heart pounded wildly. I felt as if a gaze pierced my back, causing a knife-like pain, and my hands trembled uncontrollably under the blanket.

However, the expected footsteps did not approach. Instead, they retreated. As the door was about to close, I heard Sean ask the maid, "Did she take her medicine?..."

The rest of his words were muffled by the door, making it impossible to hear clearly.

I suddenly opened my eyes, an unprecedented fear engulfing me. I even doubted my own reality—was I in a dream, living a nightmare?

The scene before me reminded me of that bowl of medicine.

Max had been with me for years and had never shown such a condition. The only difference was that he had drunk my medicine.

The thought sent shivers down my spine.

Who wanted to harm me?

Was it Sean or Anna? Rationally, I suspected one of them, or even both, but my heart vehemently denied it.

I couldn't accept this reality.

Impossible! Sean loved me.

From our meeting to falling in love, building a family, and welcoming our three precious children, he had always been kind and caring, doing everything for me.

In ten years, we had never had an argument. His gentleness was constant—how could it be a facade? How could he do this to me?

No, it was absolutely impossible! But if it were Anna, it seemed unreasonable as well.

Before coming to work for us, we were strangers without any enmity. I paid her a top salary in the industry.

I had personally chosen her. She was two years older than me, and appeared neat and delicate.

She had worked in this field since high school, and when she came to us, she was already a senior domestic worker.

When I chose her, Sean seemed slightly dissatisfied, privately asking me, "Isn't she too young? Can she be trusted?"

"Is youth untrustworthy? She looks pleasant and is efficient! She's a top-notch domestic worker, you know," I joked, adding meaningfully, "I should be the one worrying!"

He pinched my cheek affectionately and smiled, "What are you thinking? Don't talk nonsense!"

Then he hugged me, gently biting my ear, and relented, "Alright, as long as you like her. After all, she's here to serve you. I just worry that young people lack patience and won't stay long, and frequent changes are troublesome!"

Unexpectedly, Anna had worked with us for nearly eight years.

I believed we had a harmonious relationship. I treated her like family, so why would she poison me? Furthermore, if it were her, how could Sean not notice my reactions to the medicine?

I dared not think any further.