Piss Off, Alpha! You Lost Me Forever-Chapter 107 Taking A Break

SOPHIA’S POV

"Ashley, sweetheart, please calm down," Damien said "The doctor will be here soon. You’re going to be okay."

"I don’t want the doctor!" Ashley wailed. Her little body curled tighter around her stomach. "I want Tiffany! Call her! Please, Daddy!"

I watched as Damien looked helpless.

"Okay," he said finally. "Okay, I’ll call her. Just try to breathe, sweetheart. Deep breaths like Tiffany taught you."

He pulled out his phone and stepped away from the bed, dialing quickly. I heard Tiffany’s voice answer and Damien’s low tone explaining the situation.

"She wants to talk to you," Damien said, bringing the phone back to Ashley.

Ashley grabbed it immediately, pressing it to her ear.

"Tiffany?" Her sobs got quieter. "My tummy hurts so bad... I know, I’m trying to breathe... When are you coming home? Can’t you come now? Please?"

I moved to the chair by Ashley’s bed and sat down. My body moved on autopilot. My wolf was silent. She was too wounded to even whimper anymore. The mate bond felt like a dead weight in my chest.

"Tiffany says she’s going to come back early," Ashley said, looking at Damien instead of me. "She’s booking a flight right now. She’ll be here tomorrow."

"That’s good, baby," Damien said gently. "See? Everything’s going to be okay."

Ashley nodded, still clutching the phone.

"Don’t hang up," she begged Tiffany. "Just stay on the phone with me until the doctor gets here."

I sat there watching my daughter find comfort in another woman’s voice, and tears started sliding down my cheeks. I didn’t even try to stop them. What was the point?

I was sitting right here - her actual mother, the woman who’d carried her for nine months, who’d nearly died bringing her into this world, who’d stayed up countless nights when she was sick, who’d given up everything to try to be what she needed.

And she wanted someone else.

"Sophia." Damien’s voice was quiet. He’d noticed my tears. "Don’t."

Don’t what? Don’t cry? Don’t feel?

I stood up, wiping at my face. "I should go."

"The ambulance will be here any minute-"

"You don’t need me here. She doesn’t want me here." My voice came out flat and dead. "She has you. She has Tiffany on the phone. She has everything she needs."

"Sophia-"

"I need some air." I walked toward the door, and Damien grabbed my arm.

"Don’t leave like this."

I looked down at his hand on my arm, then back up at his face. "What do you want from me, Damien? You want me to stay here and watch our daughter cry for another woman?”

"She’s just a child. She doesn’t understand-"

"She understands perfectly." I pulled my arm free. "She understands that you love Tiffany more than you love me."

"That’s not-"

"It is. And I’m done fighting it." I grabbed my purse from where I’d dropped it earlier. "Call me when you need me to sign divorce papers. Until then, I’ll stay out of your way so you can build the family you actually want."

I walked out of the room and down the stairs. Behind me, I could hear Ashley still talking to Tiffany. Her voice got calmer as the other woman soothed her.

Damien followed me. "Sophia, stop. You’re not thinking clearly-"

"I’m thinking more clearly than I have in years." I grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the door.

I opened the front door. Rain was coming down heavily.

"I’ve changed, Damien” I said “You said it yourself this morning—I’m not the woman you married anymore."

"I didn’t mean-"

"You did. And you’re right. I have changed. I used to believe you might love me someday. I used to hope our daughter might prefer me over anyone else. I used to think I could fix this broken family." I stepped out into the rain. "But I finally see the truth. And the truth is that I was never enough for either of you."

I got in my car and started the engine. From the mirror, could see Damien standing in the doorway, backlit by the house lights. His phone rang - probably the ambulance saying they’d arrived.

I just drove away.

My phone rang multiple times on the drive to the hospital. Damien’s name kept flashing on the screen. I ignored every call.

When I arrived at Moonstone Hospital, I was soaked through from the short walk from the parking lot to the entrance. My fever made everything feel worse.

"Sophia?" Dr. Nancy grabbed my arm as I walked past the nurses’ station. "My god, you look terrible. What are you doing here?"

"I have patients." I tried to pull away, but she held firm.

"You have a fever. I can see it from here." She pressed her hand to my forehead "You’re burning up. You need to go home."

"I can’t." My voice cracked. "I can’t go home. I just need to work. Please let me work."

Nancy’s expression softened with understanding. She didn’t know the details. I’d never told her about Damien and Tiffany, about Ashley’s rejection, about any of it but she knew pain when she saw it.

"Okay," she said quietly. "But light duties only. No surgeries, no complex cases. And I’m checking on you every hour."

I nodded. I was grateful beyond words.

The next few hours passed in a blur. I saw patients, reviewed charts, consulted on cases. My colleagues noticed I wasn’t well and quietly took on the more demanding tasks without being asked. Someone brought me tea. Someone else left cold medicine on my desk with a note that just said "Feel better."

These people - my coworkers, my colleagues - they took care of me. they did it without being asked.

When had my own family stopped caring for me like that?

Around six p.m., my phone buzzed with a text. It wasn’t a call this time. Damien must have figured out I wasn’t going to answer.

Damien: Ashley is asking for your cereal. The kind you make. Can you bring some?

I stared at the message for a long time. Ashley wanted something from me. Not me - just something I could provide, like I was DoorDash for homemade food.

I should ignore it. I should let Damien figure out how to feed our daughter himself. I should stand firm on my decision to step back and let them build their perfect little family without me.

But.

She was still my daughter, still my baby, even if she wished I wasn’t her mother. And if she was asking for food I made, that meant she was feeling well enough to eat, which was good news.

I couldn’t ignore that. I couldn’t let her go hungry just to make a point.

"I’m taking my break," I told Nancy.

She looked at me. "Be back in an hour or you’re officially off the clock."

I left the hospital to go to my child. Why?

Because that’s what mothers did.

Even when it broke them.