WALKED HOME ALONE

SALOME

That night inside the cold guest room of the hockey facility was easily one of the worst nights of my entire life.

The moment the door clicked shut behind Williams, the fake, gentle smile vanished from Miriam’s face. She didn't offer me a glass of water or check on my bruised, aching neck. Instead, she pulled a chair right up to the side of the bed, crossed her legs, and began to tear my heart into little pieces with her words.

"Did you really think you were special, little maid?" she asked, her voice dripping with cruel satisfaction in the dim light of the room. "Do you think the way he touches you in that bed is something unique?"

I pulled the blanket up to my chin, my throat throbbing violently every time I swallowed, but I kept my eyes fixed on her.

"He loves me," I whispered, my voice raspy and broken.

Miriam let out a harsh, mocking laugh that echoed off the bare walls. "He loves your body because he is a wolf, Salome! Do you know how many nights Williams fucked me from behind when we were married? Do you know how he used to spend entire nights playing with my vagina, fingers sliding inside me until the sun came up?"

Her words hit me like a physical punch to the chest. A deep, agonizing ache bloom in my heart.

I felt completely crushed. During those wild, intense nights in the master suite, when Williams played with my vagina until I was dripping wet, I genuinely believed it was a special, sacred act. I thought he did it because he loved my body, because he was captivated by the soft, beautiful, pink part of me that I had taken so much pride in. Knowing that he had done the exact same thing to her—playing with her vagina all night long, giving her the exact same touch—made me feel sick to my stomach. I felt like a cheap replacement executing a routine he had already perfected with another woman.

"When we were together," Miriam continued, leaning closer so I could smell her heavy perfume, "he fucked me in every single corner of that palace. On the kitchen counter, in the shower, on the office desk, and right on the living room rug. We fucked all night long till morning."

I closed my eyes tightly, tears slipping down my temples into my hair. When I was just a maid scrubbing the palace floors, I remembered how much they used to fight. Their arguments were loud and explosive, shaking the entire estate. But hearing her speak now, I realized the painful truth: before the constant fighting destroyed them, there had been good times. There had been intense passion, shared warmth, and history.

"And do you want to know the best part?" Miriam whispered, her tone dropping into a deadly, confident purr. "In all the years we were married, no matter how badly we fought, Williams never slept outside the house. Not once. But with you? On your third day of marriage, he left you alone in that giant bed to sleep out. What does that tell you, Salome?"

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, fresh tears burning my cheeks. She was right. That fact burned deeper than any bruise on my neck.

"Sex with Williams is an addiction," Miriam said, standing up and smoothing her dress. "I cannot do without it, and I know he misses it with me. I am going to take him back, little maid. I am going to make him leave you, and there is nothing you can do about it."

My stomach churned with pure fear. Sex was the sweetest, most genuine part of my brief marriage to Williams. I didn't care about his money or his high status. I hadn't married him because he was a wealthy Alpha or a famous hockey champion. I married him because beneath his cold exterior, he had a good heart. He had offered to send me to college, to give me a future, to protect my dignity. And when he held me in the dark, I felt a connection I had never felt with anyone else. The thought of losing that—losing him—terrified me.

Miriam looked down at my weeping form one last time, satisfied with the damage she had caused, and walked out, locking the room from the outside.

I spent the rest of the night lying alone in the dark room of the sports facility. My neck ached terribly, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow, suffocating agony in my chest. I didn't sleep a single minute.

The next morning, the heavy silence of the empty facility was broken early by the sound of heels clicking down the hallway.

The door opened, and Miriam stepped inside, fully dressed in her sharp business suit, holding a hot cup of coffee. She looked at me lying awake on the bed, her eyes gleefully taking in my pale, tear-stained face.

"Still here?" she sneered, setting her coffee down on the desk. "If you're waiting for Williams to rush in here and check on you, don't bother. He isn't coming."

"He will come," I rasped out, trying to hold onto the tiny shred of hope left in my heart. "He told me he would see me in the morning."

"Williams doesn't love you, Salome," Miriam said, taking a slow sip of her drink. "He went straight from his emergency meeting to a breakfast conference with the league sponsors. He hasn't asked about you once today. You are completely irrelevant to him."

I refused to answer her, turning my face toward the wall.

Hours dragged on. Morning turned into afternoon, and afternoon slowly faded into the dim orange light of evening. The facility staff came and went, but the one person I was desperately waiting for never showed up.

Williams didn't come.

He didn't call. He didn't send a text. He didn't step through the door to ask how his wife was doing after a horrific neck injury.

By six in the evening, the heavy truth finally settled in my bones like lead. Miriam hadn't lied about that. He really hadn't prioritized me. He had left me in the care of his toxic ex-wife and completely forgotten about my existence while he went about his busy, important day.

A cold, sharp anger replaced the desperate sadness that had been consuming me all night.

I pulled myself out of the bed. My neck was stiff and deeply bruised, turning a painful shade of purple, but I forced myself to stand upright. I adjusted my clothes, threw my shoes on, and walked out of the guest room without saying a word to anyone.

I stepped out of the facility into the chilly evening air. I didn't call the palace driver, and I certainly didn't wait around a second longer.

I walked home all by myself.

The distance between the sports arena and the palace was long, but I welcomed the cold wind on my face. With every heavy step I took along the side of the road, my anger grew stronger, hardening the soft, timid parts of my heart. I was tired of crying. I was tired of feeling like a foolish girl competing for a man's attention against his ex-wife.

When I finally reached the grand gates of the palace estate, the sun had set completely, leaving the night dark and cold. The guards rushed forward, looking panicked when they saw me walking up the driveway alone, but I brushed past them without giving them a single glance.

I marched straight up the grand marble staircase and pushed open the doors to the master suite.

The room was quiet. I walked over to the dressing table, caught sight of my reflection, and stared at the deep, dark bruise covering the side of my neck. It was physical proof of Miriam's cruelty and Williams's complete blindness.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched tightly into fists in my lap, staring at the closed bedroom door with a cold, unwavering glare. I was done being the sweet, understanding maid-turned-Luna. When Alpha Williams finally decided to show his face tonight, he was going to face the reality of what he was destroying.