Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate-Chapter 43

Elodie’s POV

York had always thought I was the perfect Luna, gentle, quiet, and endlessly patient with his brother. I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at me, that faint glimmer of admiration he never said out loud. To him, I was the woman who kept Dante steady, the one who never argued, never made a scene, never showed the cracks forming underneath the surface. If only he knew how tired I was of being the calm one.

He stood awkwardly by the hallway door, scratching the back of his neck. “Elodie,” he said softly, his tone careful, like he was approaching a wounded animal. “You’re... you’ve always been good to him. My brother’s just... stubborn. He’ll realize what you mean to him someday.”

I forced a small smile, even though my chest ached. “Maybe,” I whispered, though even I didn’t believe it.

He nodded, still looking uncomfortable. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? It’s past midnight. Try to get some rest.”

“Good night, York,” I murmured, and he gave me a small, helpless look before heading down the stairs. His footsteps faded, and the silence in the house came crawling back in like fog.

I turned off the main light and switched on the bedside lamp. The warm glow painted soft shadows on the walls, familiar yet empty. When I sank into the bed, I didn’t even bother to pull the blanket up. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet thud of my own heartbeat.

The door opened a few minutes later.

I didn’t need to look to know it was him.

I opened my eyes, meeting his for a split second as he walked in. His expression was unreadable, sharp in the dim light.

Once, I would have jumped up immediately. Helped him take off his suit jacket. Found his pajamas. Maybe even filled the tub for him. That used to be our quiet ritual, the way I showed him I cared when words weren’t enough.

But I didn’t move this time. I stayed exactly where I was, pretending to be half-asleep, though the ache in my chest was wide awake.

I saw the flicker of surprise cross his face when he noticed. He wasn’t used to this, me not trying, me not reaching for him. For a brief second, something unreadable passed through his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

He must’ve decided it wasn’t worth asking about. Dante never liked things he couldn’t control, and my silence, I think, was beginning to bother him.

He loosened his tie and said in that cold, effortless tone of his, “Liora’s school enrollment is done. You’ll take her tomorrow morning.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “Alright.”

That was all. Two words. He didn’t look at me again. Didn’t notice how my hands trembled slightly as I adjusted the sheets. He just turned to the closet, unbuttoning his shirt as though I wasn’t even there.

I wanted to ask him about the divorce. It had been two weeks since the last conversation where he said we’d “handle it soon.” I’d been waiting ever since, quietly, trying not to sound desperate. But watching him now, so calm, so unbothered, I realized there was nothing left to ask. He’d already decided.

I wasn’t his Luna anymore. Not in his heart. Maybe not even in name for much longer.

I turned away, pressing my face into the pillow so he wouldn’t see the tears collecting in my eyes. The scent of his cologne still lingered there.

His phone buzzed just then. He paused, checking the screen. The faint light from the display caught the edge of his jaw, highlighting the faintest smirk that ghosted across his lips before he answered.

I froze. My breath hitched.

I noticed how different Dante’s “hello” sounded compared to when he spoke to me on the phone. Gentle. So Careful. A softness that wasn’t meant for me, and it stabbed something raw inside my chest.

I knew immediately who was on the other end. Sienna. Of course, I don’t need to be told. Even from here, I could feel the change in him, the way his shoulders tensed and relaxed differently, the way his fingers gripped the closet door as if holding onto something he didn’t want to let go of.

Whatever Sienna had said made him release the door with a sharp exhale. “I’ll come right now,” he said. Then he was gone, moving faster than I could blink, leaving the room without even a glance my way.

I didn’t call out. I didn’t want to. There was a hollow ache in my chest, a strange emptiness where warmth had once lived. A moment later, the quiet was broken by the low rumble of a car engine pulling away. He had left. The mansion felt bigger, colder, more alien than ever.

I switched off the bedside lamp, letting the darkness wrap around me. Sleep didn’t come immediately, but it came eventually, the exhaustion of watching him drift farther from me than ever before finally dragging my eyelids down.

Morning arrived too soon. The soft light filtering through the curtains didn’t make the ache in my chest any lighter. I had to take Liora to school, which meant waking up at six.

Liora’s door was locked, and I hesitated, hand hovering. Finally, I knocked softly, trying to summon patience I didn’t feel. A long silence passed before she shuffled to the door, rubbing her eyes, her small frame framed in the doorway like she was bracing herself for a storm.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Mom... why are you knocking so loudly? It’s giving me a headache,” she said, voice sharp, tired, resentful.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced my voice calm, even though everything inside me wanted to yell.

“Liora, I mean... it’s time for us to leave. You know here is very far from your school. Come on, get up,” I said, each word measured, soft, almost like I was speaking to someone else entirely.

Her nose wrinkled, a small snort escaping, but she didn’t say anything.