Chapter 5
The next morning, I still carried the disappointment of the dinner I had hoped to have with my Alpha husband, only to end up sharing it with his brother because Andrew had been too busy tending to someone else.
I woke to the familiar emptiness on his side of the bed and tried not to dwell on it, forcing myself to believe it was something I should have been used to since this wasn't the first time Andrew had never made it home for the entire night.
As a werewolf living in disguise among humans, I had learned how to hide my wolf and keep my instincts under control, even when my emotions threatened to break through.
That morning, I acted like everything was normal, had breakfast, and went straight to the art gallery, keeping my wolf quiet while I worked until I was exhausted and finally called it a day.
I went straight home, believing the packhouse was the only place where I could truly rest. I just wanted somewhere familiar where I could breathe without feeling like everyone was watching me.
I knew something was wrong the moment I opened the packhouse door.
A scent I hadn't expected reached me immediately.
Vanessa.
My wolf stirred before I even heard her voice.
I closed the door quietly and followed the sound from the living room, my heels muffled by the Persian runner.
The sight waiting for me made me stop.
Vanessa stood beside the coffee table, arranging white orchids in the Baccarat vase I'd chosen for our first anniversary.
My vase.
My flowers.
My home.
She moved with the casual confidence of someone who already believed she belonged there. Her honey-blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, and she wore a cream silk blouse with tailored trousers.
Then I noticed the scarf around her neck.
It was one of mine.
My fingers tightened around my bag as Vanessa slowly looked up.
“Oh. Samantha.”
Her smile was bright enough to look innocent.
“I was just freshening up the flowers. I hope you don't mind.”
I stared at the vase.
“Andrew gave me a key,” she added.
The words hit harder than they should have as I realized it was a key to our packhouse, the place I'd spent two years making into a home, but I forcred my voice to remain calm.
“I see.”
My wolf stiffened at the intrusion, but I kept her under control. Vanessa touched one of the orchids, moving it slightly.
“Andrew said I could stay here while my apartment is being repaired.”
“That's generous of him.”
She smiled.
“He's always been considerate.”
She walked toward the sofa and ran her fingers over one of my silk scarves before wrapping it around her shoulders, my wolf recoiled at the sight as I stared at her.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“It's mine.”
“Oh, I know.” She smiled.
“Andrew told me you have quite a collection.”
Of course he had. Vanessa looked around the room.
“It feels strange being back here.” I said nothing.
“Actually, it reminds me of college.”
She laughed softly.
“Andrew used to leave his dorm key under the mat so I could surprise him with dinner.”
Her expression warmed with the memory.
“We spent so much time together back then.”
My wolf caught the deliberate edge behind her pleasant scent, and I realized Vanessa wasn't simply reminiscing but reminding me that there were parts of Andrew's life I had never been part of.
“Some things never change,” she said.
“Do they?” She tilted her head.
“Maybe not.”
Her fingers brushed the silk scarf around her neck.
“Sometimes people just settle for what's safe. What's expected.”
Her smile remained pleasant. “I suppose there's comfort in predictability.”
The word landed harder than I wanted it to, because predictable and safe were apparently the only things Vanessa thought I was.
The wife who cooked, handled Andrew's scandals, smiled beside him, and never demanded anything.
I looked at the orchids.
“You rearranged them.”
“I thought they looked better this way.”
“They were arranged for our anniversary.” Vanessa gave a small shrug.
“They're flowers, Samantha.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and my wolf immediately picked up Andrew's scent.
A moment later, he appeared with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up, but his eyes went straight to Vanessa, his expression softened making my stomach tighten.
“You found each other,” Andrew said, a faint smile touching his lips as his eyes moved between us.
Vanessa smiled back. “Andrew.”
I looked at him. “She told me you gave her a key.”
His jaw tightened slightly, and his gaze flicked toward Vanessa before returning to me. “She needed somewhere to stay.”
“Yes, I do. My apartment flooded,” Vanessa added, her voice soft and almost apologetic.
Andrew nodded. “I thought it made sense.”
I looked around our packhouse, and of course it made sense to him, because somehow there was always room for Vanessa in the life we were supposed to share.
“How long is she staying?”
“Until the repairs are finished.”
Vanessa stepped closer to him. Her hand brushed his arm with effortless familiarity.
“I don't want to impose.”
She glanced at me.
“I know how important privacy is for married couples.”
The word sounded almost mocking, and Andrew didn't correct her, hge didn’t even try, instead, he simply looked at me.
“Samantha, I was hoping you could help her feel more welcome.”
For a moment, I couldn't speak as my wolf pressed uneasily against me, urging me to help the woman Andrew had brought into our home, the same woman wearing my scarf and rearranging my anniversary flowers.
“Maybe show her around,” he continued. “Help her get settled.”
There was no anger in his voice, and somehow, that made it worse.
Vanessa smiled, as if his calm response had given her exactly the reassurance she wanted.
“That would be wonderful.”
She looked around.
“I'd love to see what you've done with the place. Andrew has told me so much about your decorating.”
I forced a smile.
“Of course.”
I set my bag down.
My wolf stayed on edge, every instinct telling me that something had changed, not because Vanessa had moved into our home, but because Andrew had invited her into the one place that was supposed to belong to me.
I looked at the orchids again, remembering how Andrew had given them to me on our first anniversary, only to see Vanessa rearrange them as if they had never belonged to me, as if she were reclaiming territory one flower at a time.
I watched her link her arm through Andrew's, and when he didn't pull away but leaned toward her as naturally as breathing, I wondered how much longer I could keep standing beside him as his wife and Luna, protecting his reputation and pretending our marriage was real.
But standing there, watching Vanessa occupy my home as if she had never left, something inside me became painfully clear.
The key wasn't just access to the packhouse, it was access to Andrew and the parts of him I had spent two years trying to reach, the parts Vanessa now seemed to have.
Without thinking, I picked up my bag.
“I have some calls to make.” I said.
Andrew looked at me.
“Samantha-”
“It's fine.” I cut him off.
I walked toward the hallway, my wolf retreating into silence, not because the pain was gone, but because there was nothing left for either of us to say.
When I stopped and looked back at the living room, I saw Vanessa still wearing my scarf, my orchids sitting in the vase she had rearranged, and Andrew standing beside her.
The truth settled heavily in my chest I wasn't fighting to save a marriage anymore, there was nothing left to save, and I was no longer a wife in this house but a guest in my own life.