Piss Off, Alpha! You Lost Me Forever-Chapter 141 That Woman Is Gone

SOPHIA’S POV

When I walked into Stone Manor, I expected the house to be dark and quiet. Instead, I found George sitting in the living room.

He looked up when he heard my footsteps.

"Sophia! There you are." He stood slowly. "I was starting to worry. Where’s Damien? I thought he went to pick you up."

My stomach twisted. Of course,

“He did get there. But he had to leave for an urgent matter. Something with work." I lied.

George’s face became filled with concern. "At this hour? What could be so urgent?"

"I’m not sure. He didn’t explain." I forced a smile. "You know how it is with alpha business, always something needing attention." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

George studied me "Did you two argue?"

"No." Another lie, easier this time. "Everything’s fine."

"Sophia." George’s voice was gentle but firm. "I may be old, but I’m not blind. Something’s wrong. You can talk to me."

I wanted to. I badly wanted to tell him about the attack, about Damien carrying Tiffany to safety while never checking if I was okay, about how tired I was of being the afterthought in my own marriage.

But George was Damien’s grandfather. He loved me, yes, but his loyalty ultimately lay with his blood.

"I’m just tired," I said instead. "It was a long evening. Dahlia and I had a good talk, though. I think she’s going to be okay."

George’s expression softened. "Thank you for doing that. I know it wasn’t easy, given your history with her."

"She’s family," I said simply. "And she deserves support for her dreams."

George moved closer and patted my hand. "You’re a good woman, Sophia. Too good for this family, honestly." He paused, then said softly "I hope you and Damien can work things out, find your way back to each other."

My heart ached. "George-"

"I know the divorce papers are signed. Damien told me." George squeezed my hand. "But papers can be unsigned. Mistakes can be corrected. I still have hope that you two will realize you belong together."

I couldn’t tell him the truth that Damien and I had never really belonged together, ghat our marriage had been built on obligation and pack politics more than genuine connection.

That I was finally, painfully, accepting that truth.

"Maybe someday," I said, knowing that day would never come.

George seemed to take that as encouragement. "And when you do reconcile, perhaps you could consider... well, the pack needs heirs, strong wolves to carry on the Stone legacy. Ashley is wonderful, of course, but..."

He trailed off, but the implication was clear. He wanted me to have more children with Damien, to produce proper heirs for the pack – a son

I was too exhausted to be angry. I was too drained to explain that I would never, ever put myself through pregnancy again, not after nearly dying the first time, not for a man who didn’t love me.

"We’ll see," I said, which was as close to "absolutely not" as I could manage diplomatically. "I really should rest now. It’s been a very long day."

"Of course, of course." George patted my hand one more time. "Sleep well, my dear. And thank you again for talking to Dahlia."

I climbed the stairs to the guest room I always used when staying at Stone Manor. My body was practically moving on autopilot. All I wanted was to collapse into bed.

I changed into the pajamas I kept here and slid under the covers. I was too tired to even brush my teeth properly. My eyes closed almost immediately.

After some hours, I felt the mattress dipping beside me.

My eyes opened as arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me against a warm body that smelled of cedar and alpha power.

Damien.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, trying to pull away.

"Holding my wife," he murmured against my hair. "Is that not allowed?"

"Your soon-to-be ex-wife." I struggled out of his embrace and sat up. "And no, it’s not allowed. Not anymore."

I grabbed my pillow and the throw blanket from the foot of the bed, moving to the sofa by the window.

I was shocked. I looked at Damien in disbelief.

What the hell did he think he was doing?

Damien sighed "Sophia, don’t be ridiculous. Come back to bed."

"I’m fine here." I arranged the pillow, pulling the blanket over myself. "You can have the bed."

"Why are you being like this?" Damien’s voice was filled frustration.

"Like what? Maintaining appropriate boundaries given that we’re getting divorced?" I turned my back to him. "Go to sleep, Damien. Or better yet, go back to Stone Villa where your girlfriend is probably waiting for you."

Silence.

Then: "I came here because Grandfather asked me to check on you. To make sure you got home safely."

"How thoughtful." My voice was ice. "Too bad you were several hours late. I’ve been back for ages."

"I was dealing with the situation at the hotel. The police needed statements, and Tiffany was upset-"

"Of course she was. And of course you had to comfort her." I closed my eyes, fighting back tears. "Just go away, Damien. I’m too tired for this."

More silence. Then I heard the sound of him settling back against the headboard.

"Divorce," he said quietly, almost to himself. "We’re really doing this."

I didn’t respond. What was there to say? The papers were signed. The decision was made.

I lay on the sofa, listening to Damien’s breathing. It was strange being in the same room with him but feeling so distant.

I thought about the Sophia from years ago -the one who’d tried so hard to please Damien, who’d bent over backward to be the perfect Luna, who’d sacrificed her own dreams in hopes of earning his love.

That Sophia was gone.

-

The next morning, I felt relieved.

Damien’s phone rang.

I heard him answer quietly. "Hello?"

Tiffany’s voice came through. It was loud enough for my enhanced hearing to catch: "Damien! Thank goddess. Ashley’s sick again. She’s vomiting and crying about stomach pain. Can you come home? She keeps asking for you."

Damien was out of bed immediately, pulling on his clothes. "I’m on my way. Has she been eating anything unusual?"

"I don’t think so. We had dinner together and she was fine, but she woke up an hour ago screaming..." Tiffany’s voice wobbled with tears. "Please hurry."

"I will. I’ll be there in twenty minutes." He hung up and turned toward the sofa. "Sophia?"

I sat up slowly "What?"

"Ashley’s sick again. I’m going to Stone Villa." He paused. "Do you want to come?"

Part of me desperately wanted to go, wanted to check on my daughter, make sure she was okay.

But the larger part - the part that had been hurt too many times - couldn’t face walking into that house again, couldn’t bear seeing Tiffany playing nurse, Damien playing attentive father, both of them the perfect little family while I was the outsider.

"No," I said. "I have work in a few hours. I need to get ready."

Damien looked shocked. "Ashley is sick and you won’t even come check on her?"

"You’re there. You’ll take care of it." I stood and folded the blanket. "Make sure she’s drinking enough fluids. Check her temperature. If she’s still vomiting in an hour, take her to the hospital."

"You’re her mother-"

"And you’re her father. And apparently Tiffany is her preferred caregiver." I met his eyes directly. "She doesn’t want me there, Damien. She’s made that very clear. So, I’m respecting her wishes by staying away."

"She’s six years old. She doesn’t know what she wants-"

"Then maybe you should have thought about that before letting her call your girlfriend’s mother ’Grandma Tasha’ and asking if she can call Tiffany ’Mom. Take care of our daughter."

Damien stared at me like I was a stranger. Maybe I was.

"You’ve changed," he said quietly.

"Yes." I didn’t deny it. "I had to”

I grabbed my clothes and headed for the bathroom. "Now go. Ashley needs you. Tiffany needs you. I’m sure they’re both waiting."

I closed the bathroom door before he could respond, leaning against it and taking deep breaths.

I heard him leave a moment later/

And then silence.

I stood there in the bathroom. The tears were finally falling now that I was alone. I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle the sobs.

Because the truth was, I was desperately worried about Ashley. My baby girl was sick.

But I couldn’t go to her. I couldn’t put myself through the pain of being rejected again, of watching her prefer Tiffany’s care to mine.

So I stayed where I was, crying silently in a bathroom in my almost-ex-husband’s family home, hating myself for not being strong enough to go.