Episode 5
Dragging my tired body back to the home I’d shared with Damien for seven years, I stopped and took a long, somber look at the place that had once been my sanctuary.
It was almost laughable now. Back then, I’d been so sure I would spend my life here with him. Now, that belief felt like a cruel joke.
Every corner of the house carried
memories of us, moments that should have been comforting. Instead, they sliced through me like a thousand knives, each one sharper than the last.
The pain was unbearable because deep down, I knew this home was never truly meant for me. Damien had designed it for someone else, a shadow of the person he thought I should be.
I was never enough, never quite what he wanted, and staying here was just a way to
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Episode 5
hurt myself.
It was time to leave.
The decision to go had already been made. Accepting the bond marriage proposal from the neighboring pack meant I had to start over anyway. But I’d delayed, hoping Damien might give me a reason to stay.
Instead, he chose to abandon me as my anchor.
That night, I found a large cardboard box. and began the painful process of erasing every trace of what we‘ d once had.
I packed away the slippers with the “wolf and moon” motif that symbolized our bond, the mugs that fit together like puzzle pieces, and the keychains that buzzed when they sensed each other nearby. Damien had always said those trinkets would remind me of his love, especially when he was away.
At the time, I’d been so happy to have them. They made me feel secure, like no
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Episode 5
matter where he was, our bond was unbreakable. But now, those same items feel meaningless, their promises hollow.
Then came the photos and portraits. Each one was a snapshot of our lives–vacations, birthdays, lazy mornings in bed. We were smiling at most of them, some taken candidly, looking like the perfect pair. They had once been proof of our bond, a testament to the love I thought we shared.
Now, they only made me sick. Looking at them felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how blind I’d been to the cracks forming
between us.
None of it mattered anymore.
Damien hadn’t returned in over two
weeks.
In his absence, I threw myself into work. Designing gowns and dresses for the pack‘ s ceremony kept my mind occupied, at least during the day. At night, I packed away our memories, each item pulling me
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tually, the sharp edge of the pain hotos and into a quiet acceptance. I stripped Lot of out ouse of everything that once made it ornings warm and inviting. Even the furniture I of them shovingly chosen was replaced, leaving like the peace cold and minimalist, just black roof of ofhite, like the day I first moved in.
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he dismissed me so easily.
If that’s how he felt, then there was nothing more to say.
At dawn, I packed my suitcase and walked out of the house that had once been my
safe haven. For the first time in weeks, I felt relief, stronger than any sorrow still lingering in my heart.
While waiting to board my flight, my phone buzzed with birthday messages. I’d forgotten it was my birthday. In the past, Damien would have been the first to greet me, with a surprise planned for the day.
This year, his silence was louder than ever.
The messages were kind–some wished me happiness, others success, and a few who knew about the bond marriage wished me luck with my new mate. I replied to them all, one by one, before turning off my phone.
As the plane took off, I gazed out at the sunrise breaking over the horizon and
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