40. Let Go?

ADRIAN POV

The moment I walked into the conference room, something felt wrong. I didn’t know what it was at first—maybe the silence, maybe the way everyone looked tense—

But then I scanned the room.

And her seat was empty.

Rose never missed meetings. Never. She might show up late with coffee stains on her shirt or with her hair a bit messy from running around that morning—but she always showed.

And today she wasn’t there.

Not her bag.

Not her notebook.

Not the cup of iced coffee she always brought even when the AC was freezing cold.

Nothing.

My chest tightened instantly.

I tried to hide it, but I knew Caleb saw the shift in my expression.

“Where is Rose?” I asked, trying to sound casual… but the words came out too sharp. Too fast. Too concerned.

No one spoke. They looked at each other instead, the kind of look people exchange when bad news is about to be delivered.

I repeated, slower this time.

“Where. Is. She?”

Finally, one of the staff members cleared her throat.

“She… um… she resigned, Sir.”

Resigned.

The word hit me like someone had slammed a fist straight through my ribcage.

For a few seconds, I literally couldn’t breathe.

“She what?” My voice came out lower… quieter… dangerously calm.

“She resigned yesterday evening. She submitted her notice and left.”

Left.

Left.

My mind couldn’t process it. I just stood there staring at the empty spot where she normally sat, waiting for someone to crack a joke or tell me it was all a misunderstanding.

But they didn’t.

Because it wasn’t.

She was gone.

Someone else spoke, nervously.

“She already cleared her desk too. Everything. Her office is empty.”

And that was it. I snapped.

Not angrily.

Not violently.

Just… snapped.

The entire meeting suddenly felt stupid. Pointless. Like noise I couldn’t stand to be around.

“Cancel the meeting,” I said.

A few people blinked. “But sir—”

“I said cancel it.”

My voice didn’t crack. But something inside me did.

I walked out without waiting for anyone to respond. Caleb was behind me instantly, following my pace as I strode down the hall with a speed that nearly matched a wolf’s urgency.

I didn’t even realize my breathing was uneven until we reached the elevator.

“She resigned,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “She actually resigned.”

Caleb didn’t say anything. He knew better. He’d been watching the slow destruction happening inside me for months.

I pushed the elevator button too hard.

It dinged open.

We stepped inside.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t care about anything else—not the pack, not the company, not the damn expectations everyone had of me.

I just wanted to know where she went.

---

When we reached her apartment building, I took the stairs two at a time. Caleb again didn’t say anything—he just followed with that silent, heavy understanding he carried when things involved Rose.

I reached her door.

Knocked.

Nothing.

Knocked harder.

Still nothing.

So I did what any wolf whose patience had evaporated would do—

I opened the door myself.

Her apartment…

Was empty.

Not halfway packed.

Not messy.

Not lived in.

Empty.

Wardrobe open—nothing inside.

Bathroom shelves—cleared out.

Kitchen—clean, untouched, silent.

Desk—bare.

Her scent was still faint in the air, but even that felt like it was fading, slipping between my fingers like something I couldn’t hold onto anymore.

I stepped further inside, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

She had actually left.

Not just the job.

Everything.

“She really did it,” I whispered.

Caleb stood by the door, watching me. He didn’t talk. Didn’t ask. Didn’t pity me. He knew that what was ripping through me wasn’t something words could fix.

I pulled out my phone.

Called her.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Then:

“The number you are trying to reach is not reachable—”

I ended the call so fast the phone nearly slipped from my grip.

I called again.

Same result.

At this point, I felt something burning at the back of my throat—anger, frustration, hurt, regret, all mixed into a single emotion that made my wolf restless inside me.

Why would she leave without telling me?

Why would she run?

Why would she just disappear?

A part of me wanted to search every city, every border, every territory in the country just to find her.

But another part of me—the part that had been fighting itself for months—finally collapsed.

I turned to Caleb.

“That’s it,” I said, almost whispering. “I’m done.”

He frowned slightly. “Done?”

“I’m letting her go.”

The decision snapped out of me like a bone breaking.

Sharp.

Final.

Painful.

“I’m letting her go for real this time. No more watching her secretly . No more thinking about her. I’m going to focus on my career, on the pack, on what actually matters. . Ritual”

My voice didn’t shake.

But my eyes burned.

Caleb’s jaw tightened. He didn’t say a word. He just watched me—really watched me—with that look that said he could see everything happening inside me even when I tried to hide it.

“I won’t think about Rose again,” I said, forcing the words out. “Ever. I mean it.”

And the worst part?

I wasn’t lying.

I genuinely believed I meant it.

But as I stood in her empty apartment, surrounded by the ghost of her presence, a single quiet truth pressed itself into my chest—

People don’t say things like that unless they’re breaking.

And I was.

Badly.

But I still said the words.

Still forced myself to believe them.

Still shut the door on something that had already shredded me.

Caleb nodded, but his eyes softened with something like sadness.

He saw the pain I refused to acknowledge.

He heard the crack behind my calm voice.

He noticed the tremble in my fingers I tried to hide.

But he didn’t speak.

And I appreciated him for that.

“I’m done,” I repeated quietly.

Then I walked out of the empty apartment without looking back—

because if I did…

I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave.

---

CALEB POV

I knew something was off the second Adrian walked into the meeting room and froze. I followed his gaze and saw exactly what he saw—Rose’s chair was empty.

And Adrian wasn’t breathing.

Literally.

He stood there like someone pressed pause on him.

And I knew instantly that this would not end well.

When the staff member said Rose resigned, the entire room shifted. The temperature dropped. The silence tightened. I could practically feel the shock radiating off Adrian like heat.

But what scared me wasn’t his reaction.

It was the lack of one.

He didn’t shout.

He didn’t ask why.

He didn’t demand to see the resignation letter.

He just said—

“Cancel the meeting.”

That was when I truly understood he was gone.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

The person who had been juggling his duties, emotions, and whatever confusing thing he had with Rose finally cracked.

I walked behind him as he left the building, and in all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen him walk that fast while looking that lost.

We took the car straight to her apartment, and I didn’t even have to ask—he was already out of the car before I fully parked.

He knocked. No answer.

So he went inside. Of course he did.

And the look on his face when he saw the empty apartment…

I’ll never forget it.

It was anger.

It was confusion.

It was frustration.

Pure.

Raw.

Unfiltered.

The kind of heartbreak only an Alpha trying desperately not to break could ever show.

He called her.

Phone off.

He called again.

Still off.

The sound he made under his breath wasn’t a growl…

It was something more human than wolf.

I stood by the door, giving him space because I knew he’d either lash out at someone or collapse—and I didn’t want either.

When he turned to me and said he was letting her go, I didn’t believe him at first. He said it too evenly. Too controlled. Too cold.

But then he said it again.

And again.

Until I realized he wasn’t trying to convince me.

He was trying to convince himself.

And failing.

I could see the storm in his eyes—the mix of pain, regret, longing, frustration, anger, fear… all hiding behind the mask he always wore as Alpha.

He walked past me with that straight spine and stiff jaw, pretending he was fine.

He wasn’t.

I didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. He wouldn’t listen, and even if he did, it wouldn’t change how torn he felt.

I watched him walk down the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

He didn’t look back once.

But I could feel it.

Feel the weight of what he was leaving behind.

Feel the pain pressing on him.

Feel the silent scream buried under his calm expression.

He said he wasn’t going to think about Rose again.

But even as he said it…

His chest was still facing the apartment door.

And sometimes, that’s all the truth you need.