I'm not a Third Wheel anymore

I had rushed myself to get home early for our anniversary only to barge into robbers in the middle. They snatched the diamond ring I bought to give him as our Anniversary gift. I could only manage to save the bouquet of flowers that I had selected carefully. After they left, I hardly managed to call him to ask him to pick me up after work only to get a subtle response from him, saying, “There is an after-party in the office. I can't come to pick you up. Just hire a ride for yourself.”

Then, as if to avoid any inquiries, he added, “I’m not with any girl alone. I’m with my colleagues and friends.”

I felt as if a cold wind had swept through my entire being. I stared the flowers I was holding for a while, then threw them aside. I held my bleeding stomach and dragged myself to the Pack's infirmary. Even the healer was stunned to see me barge at his infirmary alone in such a condition. He asked if I had a family member with me who could help me out later. I didn't think much before saying, “I’m enough for myself.”

There was not much physical pain during the process but a deep emptiness in the hospital bed haunted me inside out. The perks of being a werewolf was that our wounds could heal quickly. That was why I was discharged the same night of my miscarriage surgery. After arriving home, I went to our bedroom with heavy steps. The empty bed was mocking me for being my husband's last priority.

I smiled ironically, telling myself, ‘Happy marriage anniversary, Jenna.’

Just then my phone beeped with a message. Ryan had texted me. [Working late. Don't wait for me. Sleep early.]

I was not hoping he would remember our wedding anniversary. But, no ‘Love you’ or ‘Sorry’ came from him. Just another evening sacrificed to his job, his colleagues and their endless socializing.

As I cleared the table, a photo caught my eye - our wedding day, beaming with happiness. Now, the smile felt forced, the love tainted.

Ryan's promotion at his work had brought longer hours, late-night meetings, and a growing distance between us. His childhood sweetheart Emily, was always by his side, efficient and charming.

As I laid on my bed my phone beeped with a notification. I picked up my phone only to stumble upon his friend's provocative social media update: [Freedom's sweet when the watchdog's away. Ryan's heart still belongs to Emily.] A telling photo accompanied the post – Ryan’s hands at Emily's shoulder.

Ryan caught a headache easily by working overtime. So, I would often remind him to take a break by calling many times a day, causing his colleagues to mock me for being overly possessive. In their eyes, I was only a green-eyed monster who was jealous of Emily.

Emily was the daughter of the Pack’s Alpha. Ryan, being the son of Pack’s beta, was close to Emily since childhood. Everyone thought they would get married once they grew up and often teased them as a couple. However, Emily fell for an Alpha of another pack. She persisted in marrying him despite her father's refusal to this relationship. She escaped with her lover. But soon her marriage failed and she came back to her pack with a young son. Being discarded by her family, she joined Ryan’s company as his assistant, spending time with him more than me. She worked lavishly along with Ryan, causing their colleagues to tease them as a couple despite knowing Ryan was married to me. His colleagues looked down on me for working in a company owned by a human. According to them, taking orders from a human was shameful. They would work at low wages in the office owned by a werewolf rather than doing a highly paid job in the company owned by a human. When they visited our home, they treated me as a housekeeper. They even dare to tease Emily with Ryan's name in front of me and if I show my dislikeness over it, they would accuse me of being over possessive of my husband.

That evening, as I drifted off to sleep, the city lights outside seemed to mock me, their twinkling lights reflecting the shards of my shattered heart.

Ryan came back home very late at night. He slowly slipped into bed, reeking of whiskey and apologies. He whispered "I'm sorry" near my earlobes. I hummed a response. He stroked my hair while saying in a low voice, “You should take more rest. You are pregnant.”

The next morning, I found a text from Emily on Ryan's phone: "Last night was magical. Can't wait for the next event. By the way, thanks for the jade necklace you gifted me. It's beautiful."