Tristan didn’t come home that night. No text, no call. Nothing. After I refused to play housemaid and make soup for Saint Selene, he blocked my number like a petulant teenager. Classic. I sat in the cold silence, letting it sink in. This time, though, I didn’t feel the usual sting of rejection. I just felt… done. So freaking done.
The next morning, I threw some clothes in a bag. It wasn’t much—just enough to get me through whatever this next chapter of my life was going to be. I needed to grab a few things from my hometown anyway. Maybe find pieces of the old Ember I lost somewhere along the way. The bus ride was long and quiet, just me and the rain tapping against the window. With each passing mile, it felt like I was shedding layers of the life I’d wrapped around myself. A life that revolved around him.
When I finally arrived, my mother was waiting at the front door. Not for me, of course. No, she was scanning the street for Tristan, like some fangirl waiting for a celebrity sighting. Her face twisted in disappointment when she realized I was alone.
“Where’s Tristan?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing like I’d committed some unspeakable crime.
“We’re done,” I said, my voice hollow. “I’m just waiting for the rejection.”
Before I could say more, her hand flew out and slapped me across the face. Hard. I staggered back, more stunned than hurt.
“You’re throwing it all away,” she hissed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve lost? Tristan is an Alpha! You should be on your knees, thanking him for choosing you. Girls like you don’t get second chances.”
Yeah, I knew. She’s been drilling it into my head since I was a kid. Marry an Alpha. Secure the future. Blah, blah, blah. But here’s the thing—Tristan wasn’t a future. He was a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
When the broomstick came down on my back, I barely flinched. I was numb. She kept screaming, yelling things like, “Beg him back! Get pregnant if you have to!” As if that would magically fix everything. The weight of her words crushed me more than the hits ever could.
Then she kicked me out. Threw my stuff into the mud like garbage. A photo frame hit me square in the forehead, leaving a cut that started bleeding. Cool. Perfect way to top off the morning.