Picking Up the Pieces of My Life

I quietly tucked the photos away, then sat in the driver's seat for a long time without moving. Until my phone screen lit up and Brandon's name appeared.

"Did you find a necklace you liked at the market? If you did, show me when you get home."

I texted back "On my way," then started the car.

When I got home, the house was stiflingly hot. The fireplace crackled, and the air was thick with the smell of stew and baking bread. Brandon had already changed his clothes and was standing at the dining table, setting out plates.

Hearing the door open, he came over to take my bag and set out my slippers.

When he noticed my bare neck, he produced a diamond necklace from inside his jacket like a magic trick.

"Looks like nothing at the market caught my sweetheart's eye, but that's alright. I've already prepared one for you. Do you like it?"

I looked at the sparkling diamonds, my voice so steady it surprised even me.

"I love it."

If I hadn't found those photos, I might've still believed Brandon was a flawless, perfect mate.

During dinner, I picked up a piece of venison stew and asked casually, "By the way, can I still not attend tomorrow night's family dinner?"

Brandon's hand holding his knife and fork paused.

He looked up at me, frowning, his expression tinged with helplessness.

"Liz, didn't I already tell you?" His tone was still that low, gentle one.

"Only after passing the probationary period and proving absolute loyalty to the pack and one's mate can someone be allowed to attend the Alpha's family dinners.

"Of course, I want you there, but you know how traditional my parents are. I have no choice but to follow the Blackstone pack's rules."

As he spoke, he gripped my hand. His palm was very warm, but my heart was cold.

"Don't worry, I'll come right back to be with you once it's over tomorrow night."

Over the past three years, conversations like this had happened too many times. Every single time ended with my compromise and his gentle reassurance.

I'd once truly believed tradition was an insurmountable wall. Now, I finally knew there was no wall. The door just wasn't open to me.

After dinner, he stood up to clear the dishes. "You go shower first. I'll clean up the kitchen."

I nodded but didn't move. Listening to the sound of running water from the kitchen, I slowly stood up, walked over to the couch, and picked up his phone.

In three years as mates, I'd never gone through his things. I'd given him complete space and trust. But at this moment, that trust just felt like a joke.

The phone screen lit up. I entered the password, and it was unlocked successfully.

While he was still in the kitchen, I scrolled through his messages, call logs, and social media quickly. Most of it was clean and minimalist, just like him.

That was until I opened a chat window labeled "Liana Redfern." There weren't many messages, and they were spaced far apart, but each one stung.

"I'm wearing the blue gown to tomorrow night's banquet. You said I look beautiful in that color. We're going to take the perfect photo in front of the Moon Goddess statue. Honestly, I can't wait!"

"I'm looking forward to it too."

The last message was timestamped this afternoon, with a photo thumbnail attached. I tapped it open. It was that third photo.

The ceremonial fire lit up the night. Brandon and Liana stood side by side in front of the Moon Goddess statue, his hand around her waist, her head tilted slightly toward his shoulder.

The photo's timestamp showed it was taken on the last full moon.

I kept scrolling up. Almost every full moon had similar brief exchanges and photos. There was no explicit sweet talk, but there was a kind of understanding and intimacy no one else could break into.

"What are you looking at?" His voice suddenly came from behind me.

My finger trembled, and the screen went dark instantly.