Chapter 3
The rain had been falling for hours when my phone rang. It was my husband, Andrew. I didn't think twice before picking up.
“Hello?”
“You're still at the gallery?” he asked.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Come here.”
“I have work to finish, Andrew I-.”
“I know.” There was a pause.
“I had macarons brought up from your favorite bakery.”
I closed my eyes.
Of all the things he could have said, that was the one thing that made me hesitate.
Twenty minutes later, I walked into his office.
The city outside was blurred behind rain-streaked windows. Andrew stood near the conference table, his suit jacket removed, his sleeves rolled to his forearms.
A small box sat beside a cup of coffee. I opened it and found macarons inside, all my favorite flavors.
“You remembered,” I said. His eyes rested on me.
“I remember more than you think.”
I didn't know what to say. I sat down and opened my laptop.
“I need to finish the statement.”
“Then finish it.”
He returned to his desk, and for a while, neither of us spoke as the rain filled the silence between us.
I ate one macaron while reviewing the latest reports, then another, until the exhaustion I'd been ignoring all day finally caught up with me and my eyes began to burn.
My wolf was tired too. She had spent days absorbing the tension surrounding our marriage, reacting to every unfamiliar scent, every threat to our pack's public image.
I leaned back in the chair just for a moment, but when I opened my eyes again, the light had changed and my cheek was resting against something warm and steady.
Andrew’s thigh.
I froze.
His hand moved gently through my hair, slow and careful. My wolf went completely still, and I stayed quiet, pretending I was still asleep. Andrew hadn’t noticed I was awake.
His fingers brushed through my hair again, tracing my scalp before resting briefly at the crown of my head.
There was something different about his touch. It wasn't controlling or possessive. It was gentle, almost tender.
After two years of marriage, it was the most intimate thing he had ever done for me.
I kept my breathing even and pretended to sleep, allowing myself to enjoy the moment for a few seconds before questions started creeping into my mind.
Did he touch Sienna like this?
Had he ever stroked Vanessa Cole's hair in the darkness, the woman he'd once loved before our marriage?
Was I only someone convenient to hold when he needed comfort?
My chest tightened, and Andrew’s hand suddenly stopped as his breathing changed. He had sensed that I was awake. I lifted my head, and the tenderness disappeared from his face almost instantly as he cleared his throat and straightened his jacket.
“You fell asleep.”
His voice was clipped, as if the moment between us had never happened. I sat up and smoothed my hair.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s fine.” He looked away.
“You should eat something. You missed lunch.” I glanced at the macarons beside me. “I know.”
I reached for another macaron, but the silence returned. This time, it felt different. The warmth was gone, and Andrew had rebuilt the wall between us, so I let him.
That night, he came home after midnight. The moment he stepped into the penthouse, I smelled alcohol on him, and my wolf immediately became alert.
Andrew's scent was stronger than usual, mixed with liquor, rain, and the lingering traces of strangers from his business dinner.
I reached for another macaron, but the silence returned. This time, it felt different. The warmth was gone, and Andrew had rebuilt the wall between us, so I let him.
That night, he came home after midnight. The moment he stepped into the penthouse, I smelled alcohol on him, and my wolf immediately became alert.
His palm struck the countertop with a sharp crack that made my wolf react instantly, every instinct in me going on alert, but I stayed seated as Andrew stared at me.
“You never yell. You never fight. You never... care enough to hate me?”
His eyes were stormy.
He looked less like the powerful Alpha everyone feared and more like a man who had finally reached the end of his control.
“You handle everything,” he continued. “You clean up my messes. You smile for the cameras. You pretend nothing's wrong.”
His voice cracked.
“Do you even feel anything? Or am I just another job to you?” His words hurt more than I expected. I forced myself to meet his gaze.
“Would you rather I scream?” My voice trembled.
“Would that make you feel better?” He laughed bitterly.
“At least then I'd know you're alive.” He leaned forward.
“At least then I'd know you're here, that you're not just...”
He stopped, his fists tightening as he stared back at me.
“You want me to fight for you,” I said quietly. “But you never gave me anything to fight for, Andrew. Not really.”
He went still, suddenly at a loss for words as silence filled the kitchen, until his phone buzzed and the ringtone cut through the tension.
Andrew looked at the screen, his face changed.
Vanessa Cole.
My heart sank at the name. She was Andrew’s ex, his first love, and despite our marriage, she was still part of his life. Seeing her name on his screen still hurt more than I wanted to admit.
My wolf caught the sudden spike in his scent, something close to real fear, before he answered immediately.
“Hello?”
His voice was clipped, as if the moment between us had never happened. I sat up and smoothed my hair.
“I'll come. Give me half an hour.”
He ended the call.
I looked at him, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.
The dinner sat untouched between us, the soup already cold, while the macarons from earlier were still on the counter.
“I have to go,” he said.
He grabbed his keys. “Don't wait up.”
Then he walked out, the door slamming behind him as I remained at the table staring at the untouched dinner while rain hammered against the windows outside.
My wolf listened to the fading sound of his footsteps until they disappeared, and I just couldn't ignore the truth anymore.
Andrew had been angry because I never fought for him, yet when someone else called, he didn't hesitate to run to her.