Chapter 7
I wasn’t sure how much Alpha Waldo had overheard, so I shrugged and answered casually, “Oh, just a Pack’s Training Ground exchange.”
Relief visibly softened his features, and he exhaled. A small, almost hesitant smile appeared on his lips. “Come home with me. There’s something I need to tell you.”
I nodded, falling into step beside him without a
word.
That evening, over dinner, he made an announcement that felt almost out of place. “I’ve cleared my schedule for the next two days,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been
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in weeks. “We should take a little trip. You’ve always said you wanted to watch the sunrise over the mountains. Let’s go. Just the two of
us.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I replied, my voice carefully neutral. I didn’t allow myself to hope,
not anymore.
He seemed determined to prove something, though. After dinner, he pulled me into his arms, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “Valerie,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity, “I love you. If something’s bothering you, tell me. I’ll fix it. I’ll spend more time with you, protect you make sure you’re happy. Just… please believe
me.”
I gave him the smile he was looking for, playing
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the part of the perfect fiancée. “I believe you.”
But his scent betrayed him–Alanna’s perfume lingered faintly on his shirt.
The next morning, as I waited for him to pick me up, a text arrived–right on cue.
Alpha Waldo: [Something came up at work. My fault, Valerie. I’ll make it up to you next time, I swear!]
Disappointment didn’t sting anymore. I’d stopped expecting anything from him long ago. Ever since Alanna had reappeared in his life, his promises had become hollow, slipping through my fingers like sand.
I had already anticipated this and booked a solo
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reservation for myself the night before.
The mountains were serene, the air crisp and clear. I sat in a rocking chair, the gentle hum of insects blending with the soft rustle of leaves. For the first time in months, I felt a flicker of
peace.
But peace is fragile.
Later that evening, scrolling through my phone, I stumbled upon Alanna’s latest post.
[Wow, wow, wow! Mom and Dad’s 25th wedding anniversary–and lucky me, I’m following in their footsteps!]
The caption was paired with a photo–Alanna beaming beside Alpha Waldo, both of them
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dripping wet, submerged in the blue depths of the sea. She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his waist, while he held her securely, as if she might slip away. They were surrounded by fish, their laughter immortalized in the snapshot.
The truth hit me like a slap in the face. The “urgent pack business” that had taken him away wasn’t business at all. It was a celebration -a moment meant for someone else’s family, one that didn’t include me.
Three days remained until my departure. I woke early the next morning, determined to watch the sunrise, to absorb the beauty of The SnowMoon Pack one last time before leaving it all behind.
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The hours that followed were a blur of packing and sorting. Every piece of my life with Alpha Waldo–the clay figurines we’d sculpted together, the photo wall in the living room, the special trinkets tucked away in drawers–was discarded or sold. By afternoon, the house felt foreign, as if I had never truly belonged there.
But one thing remained–the wedding house. I still had a few items there to retrieve, so I
decided to make one final trip.
When I arrived, though, the door code had been changed. I tried again and again, but it refused to grant me entry. Left with no choice, I called a locksmith to break the lock.
As the door creaked open, I stepped inside and
froze.
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The space I had once envisioned as a symbol of our future together was unrecognizable. The photo wall in the living room, once lined with snapshots of us, was now a gallery of Alanna and Alpha Waldo. My carefully chosen succulents were gone, replaced by her yoga mat, its edges curling slightly from use.
The balcony, where I had imagined us sipping tea on lazy mornings, was now cluttered with her belongings–her underwear drying shamelessly in the open air.
The coffee table was littered with half–eaten snacks, crumbs scattered across the plush carpet I’d spent weeks selecting. And in the master bedroom closet, my clothes had been shoved aside, replaced by hers. Her dresses
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hung alongside his shirts, as if this had always been their home, not mine.
I stared at the mess, my chest tightening with a mix of anger and despair. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought this was their wedding
house, not ours.
And maybe, in some twisted way, it was.
A memory flashed through my mind–Alpha Waldo dropping Alanna off at My Training Ground that day. Their shared glances, the barely veiled insinuation in her smirk, and the way his gaze avoided mine. Back then, I’d brushed it off, too afraid of the truth to confront
- it.
Now, everything clicked into place.
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Did Alpha Waldo even know what a wedding house was supposed to mean? Had he ever thought about it as more than just a pretty idea? I’d never spent a single night here, yet he’d let someone else move in.
Frustration tightened my chest. I wanted to scream, to throw every bitter word I could muster in his face. But I stopped myself. It
wasn’t worth it.
It wasn’t about love anymore. In fact, I wasn’t
sure I could even call what I felt for him love. It was something else now–disgust at how carelessly he’d trampled over everything we’d
once shared.
And yet, the realization hit me with startling
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clarity: this wasn’t new. Alanna’s hold over him hadn’t begun yesterday. It had always been there, a shadow lingering in the background, waiting for the right moment to consume everything.
Why waste energy on drama that wouldn’t change anything?
This house–bought with my parents‘ inheritance, signed under my name–was just another weight I was ready to let go of. My departure was inevitable, and with it, this [unbing–chapter–export] Chapter of my life would close for good.
I pulled out my phone and called the real estate agent, instructing them to sell the property immediately, even if it meant dropping the price
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20% below market value.
“It’s a well–maintained wedding home in a prime university district,” I told them. “It won’t take long to sell.”
The agent was quick to respond, arriving within the hour to film the property. As they moved through the house, capturing its angles and charm, I followed them silently, feeling nothing but detachment.
“This place is going to sell fast,” the agent assured me after finishing the shoot. “Just have your documents ready, and we’ll finalize everything once you’re prepared.”
Before leaving, they paused at the doorway. “Do you want to keep any of the items inside?”
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I looked around at the space, “No,” I said simply.
“Clear it all out. I’ll cover the cost.”
With that, the last tether to this place began to
unravel.
Later, as I worked through the final paperwork in the living room, the doorbell rang. When I opened it, Alpha Waldo’s Beta stood there, a stiff expression on his face.
“Alpha Waldo’s had too much to drink at a
social event,” he announced. “He’s asked me to bring him here to rest.”
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Of course he did.”
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It was so typical of Alpha Waldo, so predictable. Whether he was genuinely drunk or simply overplaying it for sympathy didn’t matter. He was always good at turning his messes into someone else’s problem.
I waved the Beta inside and motioned toward the couch. “Put him there,” I said flatly, not even bothering to offer a blanket before retreating to the bedroom.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of running water. By the time I stepped into the living room, Alpha Waldo had finished his shower and stood by the couch, toweling his hair dry.
When he saw me, his glare was sharp, full of unspoken resentment.
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“Valerie,” he said, his voice low and accusatory, “you made me sleep on the couch all night?”
I blinked at him, feigning innocence.
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