Her Breaking Point

  

  Eleanor 

  

  THE Grand Hall was filled with the scent of expensive cologne and roasted meats. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a bright glow over the hundreds of pack members dressed in their finest clothes.

  Tonight was the annual Silver Crescent Gala. As the Luna, I had to be there. I had to smile. I had to pretend my world wasn't crumbling.

  I wore a floor-length gold dress that shimmered like liquid sun. I looked like a queen, but I felt like a ghost.

  "Stay close and keep a smile on your face," Owen whispered sharply as we stood at the top of the stairs. He looked breathtaking in a black tuxedo, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd.

  "I’m doing my job, Owen," I replied quietly. "Are you doing yours?"

  "Don't start," he snapped.

  We descended the stairs together. For the first hour, we played the part. We shook hands with elders and talked about pack borders. But I noticed that every time we stopped, Susana was there. She was wearing a deep red dress that practically screamed for attention. She didn't stay in the corners; she stood right behind Owen, whispering in his ear about "important pack business."

  Then came the moment I dreaded. The Luna and Alpha’s traditional dance.

  The orchestra began a slow, melodic waltz. The crowd parted, leaving a wide circle in the middle of the floor. A spotlight followed us as Owen led me to the center.

  He took my hand and placed his other hand on my waist. The mate bond flared, sending a spark through my palm. For a second, looking into his dark eyes, I remembered when this felt real.

  "You look beautiful tonight, Eleanor," Owen murmured as he spun me.

  "Do you mean that? Or is that for the audience?" I asked.

  Before he could answer, a sharp, gasping sound broke through the music.

  At the edge of the dance floor, Susana stumbled. She clutched her throat, her chest heaving violently. She looked like she couldn't breathe.

  Owen’s body went rigid. He stopped dancing immediately.

  "Susana?" he called out, his voice full of panic.

  "Owen... I... I can't..." Susana gasped, her eyes rolling back as she started to sink to her knees.

  "Owen, wait," I whispered, gripping his shoulder. "The dance isn't over. Everyone is watching. She’s fine, she’s just—"

  He shoved my hand off him. "She’s having a panic attack, Eleanor! Can’t you see she’s suffering?"

  "It’s a performance, Owen! Look at her!"

  But he wasn't listening. He turned his back on me, leaving me standing alone in the center of the room. The spotlight stayed on me, highlighting the fact that my husband had just abandoned his Luna for a friend.

  The music continued for a few awkward bars before the violinists trailed off into a painful silence.

  Owen reached Susana and gathered her into his arms. He lifted her up, cradling her against his chest as if she were a fragile glass doll.

  "I’ve got you, Susy. I’m here," he cooed, loud enough for the front row to hear.

  Susana buried her face in his neck. Over his shoulder, for just a split second, she peeked at me. Her eyes weren't full of panic. They were clear, sharp, and mocking. She gave me a tiny, victorious smirk before closing her eyes again.

  The murmurs started. I could hear the whispers of the pack members.

  "He left her right in the middle of the floor."

  "Poor Eleanor. She looks so humiliated."

  "Is Susana really just a friend?"

  “Susan looks better than Eleanor.”

  “I prefer Susan too.”

  I stood there, my head held high even as my heart felt like it was being stepped on. The spotlight was hot on my skin. I felt like a fool in a gold dress.

  Owen didn't look back. He carried Susana out of the Grand Hall, his long strides full of purpose. He didn't care that he had left his mate standing in the dark. He didn't care about the tradition. He only cared about her.

  I looked at the hundreds of faces watching me. I didn't run. I didn't cry.

  I simply walked off the dance floor, one steady step at a time. I went straight to the bar and picked up a glass of water, my hands perfectly still.

  My wolf was silent inside me. She wasn't snarling anymore. She was cold. We were both done.

  The meaningful core struggle Owen kept talking about was over. There was no struggle left because there was no us  left to fight for.

  I needed a way out. And I needed it now. I sighed as I made my way out of the hall ignoring faces on me. Right now I couldn't care less about any of them, I need to breathe. A breath of fresh air will really be of help. 

                              ~~~~~~

  It's almost amusing how everything unfolded; one moment I was lost in the chaos, and the next, I found myself home, completely unaware of how I made the journey.

  “Thank you, Caleb,” I managed to mutter as he held the door out for me. 

  “Have a good night Luna.”

  I gave him a weak smile and walked inside.  

  “Welcome home Luna, I shall prepare you a hot bath right away.”

  Martha, the ever-active head servant, was always on the move, ensuring everything ran smoothly. "Alright, thank you, Martha," I said, appreciating her unwavering dedication, and headed for the stairs.

  A knock sounded at the bedroom door.

  My wolf Lyra stirred weakly inside me. I could feel it wasn't Owen as the bond didn't react.

  "Come in."

  The door opened.

  Our housekeeper, Martha, stepped inside with a hesitant expression.

  "Luna..."

  Her voice trailed off and Something inside me sank. “What is it?"

  Martha lowered her eyes. "Alpha Owen called."

  Of course he did. I laughed softly. The sound hurt even my own ears. “Let me guess.… He won't be coming home tonight."

  Martha remained silent and that was an answer enough. I looked away before she could see the disappointment on my face. Again. Always again.

  My phone vibrated on the vanity, the screen lit up.

  Darling Owen.

  I stared at his name for several seconds before answering.

  "Hello?"

  "Eleanor."

  His deep voice flowed through the phone. The same voice that once made my heart race. Now it only made my chest ache.

  "I'm sorry."

  There it was. The apology he always gave, the same familiar script. I could practically recite it with him. I closed my eyes. "What happened this time?"

  A brief silence followed, then he said the words I already knew were coming. "Sussy is still at the hospital."

  My grip tightened around the phone. Of course she wouldn't miss the opportunity to have my husband with her for the whole night. 

  "Is she hurt that badly that you have to be there and leave me on this cold bed alone tonight?" I asked quietly.

  “Was the panic attack that serious?" I demanded an answer as he didn't answer my question. 

  "Not seriously." I laughed. Actually I laughed. Not because anything was funny. Because I was tired. I'm so tired of having to tolerate it all. 

  "Eleanor?"

  "Not seriously?" My voice shook.

  "So she isn't dying."

  "No."

  "So the pack isn't under attack."

  "No."

  "The world isn't ending."

  "Eleanor—"

  "Then why are you with her instead of with your wife?"

  The silence on the other end stretched painfully. For a brief moment, I wondered if he finally understood. If he finally realized what he had done. Then I could feel Owen sighed. That single sound told me everything. "She needs me."

  "And I don't?" The words slipped out before I could stop them followed by another silence, longer this time.

  "I'll make it up to you… I will host another gala in your honor.” 

  "Don't bother."

  I ended the call. The room became painfully quiet. Martha stood frozen near the doorway. I forced a smile. "You can go."

  "Luna..."

  "I'm fine."

  It was a lie and the middle age knew it. I knew it. But neither of us said anything. After she left, I sat alone in front of the mirror looking straight at someone I couldn't recognize anymore. Just what have I become?

  My phone vibrated again and a message popped up, for one foolish second, hope rose inside me. Maybe Owen was coming. Maybe he had changed his mind.

  Maybe…

  The message opened. But disappointingly it was not from Owen but Susana and she sent a photograph. The blood drained from my face. My fingers trembled violently. The image showed Owen sitting beside her in a hospital room. Susana rested her head on his shoulder. His arm was around her. They looked like a couple.

  Beneath the photograph was a single message. A message that made my wolf whimper in pain.

  ‘Thank you for lending him to me tonight, Eleanor.’

  ‘You always have been so understanding.’

  My entire body went cold. Then another message appeared. I stared at the screen. At the words and the photograph she sent. 

  ‘By the way…’

  ‘He's smiling more with me than he ever does with you’