Chapter 3
“Do you even realize how suffocating you are?”
“Let me make it clear–if you still act like this after we form the mate bond, we’re just going to end up breaking it.”
“Save yourself the trouble. I don’t need you to mark me.”
Six years of being together, and he’d always been the free one.
If he wanted to drink, I was there, quietly sitting beside him, never urging him to stop.
If I wasn’t welcome at a gathering, I’d wait for his text, then drive over the moment he called.
When he got drunk, I’d take care of him without a single complaint.
If he planned a trip with his friends, I’d book the tickets, organize the itinerary, and make sure every detail was perfect.
Even when he offered to let me check his phone, I never actually did. I trusted him.
I loved him, and I never wanted to become my mother–the woman who drove my father away with her controlling nature until he broke their mate bond.
I thought I was doing everything right.
I thought I was the perfect Luna–to–be, giving him space, giving him freedom, giving him unconditional love.
At least before the incident, we were still passionately in love… or so I believed.
But now, I finally understood. My love–my careful, patient, forgiving love–was what suffocated him.
So this was the real reason behind the fake illness, the second personality, the “trauma response.”
All just excuses so he could chase a thrill.
I looked at him.
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And for the first time… I didn’t see a single trace of affection in his eyes.
The words on the tip of my tongue–accusations, pain, fury—I swallowed them all.
Dorian, visibly uncomfortable under my stare, snatched a bouquet of flowers from one of his friends and shoved it into my arms.
“Alright, quit playing the victim. Just take the damn flowers and go.”
He still thought I was the same girl who used to beam at any little gift he gave me.
He couldn’t fathom that I might actually walk away.
I handed the bouquet right back to the Beta beside him.
“These are for your mate. I shouldn’t be the one holding them.”
“And that blood I gave was my choice. You don’t need to force yourself to mark me over it.”
Dorian felt a sudden surge of inexplicable panic.
Shouldn’t Corinna be overjoyed?
Why was she repeating that she didn’t want him to mark her?
Was she… actually mad?
He opened his mouth. “Corinna, I…”
His friends started coughing in unison, signaling him to shut up. He quickly changed tune. Chapter 3
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“Corinna, I’m a man of my word.”
I just smiled.
“You should go be with your mate.”
“I’m heading to discharge now.”
I turned and walked away.
Dorian’s heart skipped a beat.
Something about me felt… different today.
But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what.
His friends didn’t notice. They looped their arms around his shoulders and teased him all the way out.
“Come on, stop staring or Selina’s gonna get jealous. It’s just the usual drama first playing the poor victim, then acting all coy and hard to get. Typical woman tricks. You’re just too soft, bro.”
“Seriously. You really messed up–how do you even cause someone to hemorrhage that badly? Good thing Selina’s forgiving. Not like some people who donate a little blood and act like you owe them a lifelong contract.”
Hearing those words clearly meant for me, I didn’t feel the heartbreak I had imagined–only a coldness spreading through my whole body.
A kind of chill that no amount of sunlight could ever warm.
I watched them leave. Then I went to finalize my discharge papers.
While Dorian was still out, I returned to the house.
The house we’d prepared for our future together.
I called in a cleaning lady to help me pack.
When she arrived and saw the newly decorated wedding room, she paused in disbelief.
“All of this is brand new. You’re just going to throw it away?”
“Yeah. The groom’s dead. I won’t be needing any of it.”
She apologized immediately and tried to comfort me.
Wanting to spare me the heartbreak, she started with the wedding photos and the dozen albums we’d lovingly put together.
In less than half a day, the home I had so carefully decorated no longer showed a trace of happiness.
Empty. Lifeless.
She glanced at the ten–plus trash bags near the door, each filled with “proof of love.”
She sighed. “You’ll get through this.”
I nodded with a smile.
After she left, I walked through the rooms one last time. Made sure there was no trace of me left.
Then I deleted my fingerprint from the smart lock, grabbed my suitcase, and left without a word.
Chapter 3
