How could he do this to us? How could he abandon me in our worst moment, in our grief, for Selena—of all people?
And to hear that he didn’t even believe Alyssa was his daughter... I didn’t know who he was anymore.
I wasn’t sure if I hated him, or if I just hated myself for ever trusting him.
—
The day I buried Alyssa was cold and overcast, as if even the skies were mourning her. The turnout was small—just a few pack members, most of them older wolves who came out of respect for tradition. The others stayed away, whispering about the Alpha’s absence.
Where was Damon? That question hung in the air like a heavy fog, and I could feel the judgment in their eyes.
“He should be here,” I heard one of the elders murmur behind me.
“Too busy with Selena, I bet,” another replied in a hushed tone.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to focus on the small casket in front of me. I couldn’t afford to break down, not here. Alyssa deserved better than that.
After the ceremony, I stood by her grave long after everyone else had left. The silence was deafening, but it gave me a moment to breathe, to feel the crushing weight of it all. My baby was gone, and Damon wasn’t even there to say goodbye.
Then my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, thinking for a moment that maybe, just maybe, Damon had sent a message. Instead, it was a notification from the bank.
“A transfer of $250,000 has been made to Selena Grey’s account.”
My stomach twisted. Transfer? For her? My hands shook as I stared at the screen, the words blurring through my tears.
That night, I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, staring at Damon’s contact. The transfer replayed in my mind, over and over, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I hit the call button, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.
He picked up after the fourth ring.
“Florence.”
“Don’t you dare say my name like that!” my was voice shaking with anger. “You sent Selena $250,000? Are you serious, Damon? While I’m burying our daughter, you’re wiring her money? Our money.”
“She has no husband, Florence,” he said flatly, like it was the most logical thing in the world. “Clara is my responsibility—”
“Wait what, responsibility?” I laughed bitterly. “What about me? What about Alyssa? Don’t we matter to you at all? Or is Selena and her daughter all you care about now?”
“This isn’t about you, Florence. Selena is struggling. Clara is just a child—she doesn’t deserve to suffer because her father’s gone.”
“Do you even hear yourself? You’re prioritizing them over your own family. Alyssa is dead, Damon! And you’re acting like she never even existed!”
There was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it. “I cared about Alyssa, but let’s not pretend she was my daughter.”
I froze.
“She wasn’t mine, Florence. I told you—I know about you and Selena’s husband."
My grip on the phone tightened as tears burned my eyes. “That’s a lie,” I spat. “She’s lying to you, Damon, and you’re too blind to see it!”
“I don’t have time for this,” he said, and the line went dead.
I stared at the screen, my chest heaving with rage and heartbreak. Then I opened the tracking app on my phone—the one linked to Damon’s.
The hospital. He was at the hospital.
I didn’t think. I just grabbed my keys and left, driving there on autopilot. By the time I reached the hospital, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely turn off the ignition.
I stormed through the hallways, following the tracker until I reached Selena’s room. The door was ajar, and there he was—standing by Selena’s bedside, his hand resting on her shoulder while Clara lay asleep in the corner.
“Damon,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.
He turned, startled, but didn’t move away from Selena. “Florence, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” I repeated, stepping into the room. “Really? You're asking me that?"
Selena looked between us, her face a picture of fake innocence. “Florence, this isn’t the time—”
“Shut up bitch,” I snapped, glaring at her.
Damon moved toward me, but I raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t you dare calling Selena—”
That’s when I slapped him. Hard.
The sound echoed through the room, and for a moment, no one moved.
“How dare you,” I hissed, my voice trembling. “How dare you abandon me, abandon Alyssa, for her?” I pointed at Selena, who was now clutching her chest like she was the victim.
Damon’s jaw tightened. “Florence stop—”
“No,” I interrupted, my voice rising. “It’s exactly what I think. You’ve chosen her, Damon. You’ve chosen them over us. And for what? Lies?”
“Florence, stop or else—” he said, his voice low and warning.
But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The rage and pain were boiling over, and I was done holding back.
“You’re not the man I married,” I said, my voice breaking. “You’re a coward, Damon. A coward who let another woman poison his mind against his own family. I hope you’re happy, because you’ve lost me.”
I turned on my heel and walked out, ignoring the way my heart screamed at me to look back.
He didn’t follow.
