White Tulips and Daisies

CHAPTER THIRTY

Wichapas traveled as fast as he could, driving like he was in a race. He needed to get there as quickly as possible. Build wasn't feeling well, and Wichapas had no idea why he'd suddenly gone to the house. It was far, and the fact that Build had traveled so early in the morning made Wichapas even more anxious.

He arrived at the house around nine in the morning, still wearing the same clothes from the day before—the same ones he had slept in. He got out of the car immediately and headed to the gate. Brent stepped out of the other car parked nearby.

Brent bowed. "My Lord, I tried following him inside when we arrived, but he forbade me. He said if I entered the house, he'd run away." Brent scratched the back of his head, looking worried.

Wichapas opened the gate without hesitation. "You can stay outside. I'll take it from here."

The house was quiet and dark. All the windows and doors were closed. He flicked on the lights, only to find no one inside. He was about to run upstairs when he noticed the door to the lanai was open. He frowned and slowly walked over. Relief flooded him when he saw Build sitting on one of the chairs, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, staring out at the big tree in the backyard.

Wichapas crouched in front of him.

"Hi," he greeted softly, gently caressing Build's arms.

Build turned to look at him. His eyes were puffy from crying, his nose red, and his cheeks flushed. His gaze was dazed—unfocused—like he wasn't fully conscious.

"Why did you come here?"

"I want to see my mom. I want to see my dad. I want to see my brother. Where are they?" Build asked, his voice trembling, eyes wide and distant.

Wichapas' heart clenched. He didn't know how to respond. Instead, he offered a soft, reassuring smile—the kind a parent gives a child when trying to ease their worry.

"We'll visit them when you feel better. For now, you need to rest. You're in heat."

Build scoffed, tearing his gaze away. "I'm a broken omega," he muttered, staring back at the tree.

Wichapas shook his head gently. "Trust me. I know your body. I know when you're in heat and when you're not. I can tell at a glance."

Build didn't respond. He kept staring at the tree, lost in thought. Then slowly, his cheeks grew wet with fresh tears. His shoulders shook, and loud, aching sobs broke the stillness of the house.

"I'm so tired," Build whispered.

Before Wichapas could say a word, Build's body gave out. He slumped forward, unconscious. Wichapas caught him just in time.

He decided to stay at the house. He asked Brent to buy clothes and food for them. He didn't know how long Build's heat would last. After Brent left, Wichapas messaged Prem to inform him of the situation and asked him to handle things in his absence.

He carefully changed Build into comfortable pajamas and gave him a sponge bath. Now, Build was deeply asleep in bed. Wichapas went downstairs and opened the windows to let some air in. The house was clean and well-maintained—surprisingly comfortable. He prepared a simple meal for the two of them; they hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was already noon.

He returned upstairs with a tray of instant noodles and sandwiches.

As he opened the bedroom door, a sharp, heady scent of wine hit him like a wave. His hand trembled. It was dangerous for him. That scent always got him in trouble. Wichapas took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

He walked over and sat beside the bed, placing the tray on the bedside table. Build was curled up, hugging his knees tightly.

"Love, you have to eat," Wichapas said gently, caressing his back.