Chapter 3. Humiliation.

**Stella's POV**

'Because you're not enough, Stella,' Cole's voice replays over and over in my head.

The words echo in my head, bouncing around like they're looking for somewhere to land and make sense.

"Cole, please." I step toward him, my hands reaching out. "Please don't do this. We can fix whatever is wrong. I can be better. Just tell me what you need—"

"What I need is a divorce." Cole's voice is flat, and emotionless.

"No." The word tears from my throat. "No, Cole. Think about Maya and Noah. They need both their parents. They need a family—"

"They'll have a family." Sabrina's voice cuts through my pleading like a knife. She slides off the desk and walks toward Maya, placing a possessive hand on my daughter's shoulder. "A real family. With a Luna who actually knows how to act like one."

My stomach twists. "Cole, please. Let's talk about this. Just you and me. Alone."

"There's nothing to talk about." He crosses his arms, looking at me like I'm a problem he's tired of dealing with.

"Please." I hate how small my voice sounds and how desperate I am. But I can't throw away my family because Cole says so. "Just five minutes. Without anyone else. Please, Cole. For everything we've been through—"

"Fine." He sighs, irritated. "Go home, Stella. We'll talk there later."

Hope flares in my chest.

"Okay. Yes. I'll go home and we can—"

"But first," he interrupts, his voice dropping into that cold, authoritative tone, "clean up your mess."

I blink. "What?"

He gestures toward my ruined birthday cake, which has frosting smeared all over the floor.

"You made the mess. Clean it up."

"Cole—"

"Now, Stella."

My throat tightens. "I… I don't have anything to—"

"There are paper towels in the bathroom down the hall." Sabrina's voice is sweet, and mocking. "Unless you need me to show you where that is?"

Maya giggles.

The sound cuts deeper than anything Cole has said since I got here.

"No." I shake my head, backing toward the door. " I'll just… go home. Someone else can—"

"Stella." Cole's voice drops into that Alpha tone that makes my wolf whimper and my body freeze against my will. "Clean. It. Up. Now."

The command hits me like a physical force. My knees buckle slightly, and I have to grab the doorframe to stay upright.

'Don't,' Piper whimpers. 'Please don't make us do this.'

But I can't fight an Alpha command. No Omega can.

My legs move on their own, carrying me down the hall to the bathroom. My hands shake as I grab the roll of paper towels from under the sink.

When I walk back into Cole's office, Sabrina has settled into his chair, the one meant for the Alpha only—with Maya perched on her lap.

They're both watching me like I'm a comedy shit show.

I sink to my knees in front of mess. The frosting is sticky, already hardening against the expensive hardwood. I press the paper towels against it and start wiping.

"Oh, look at her," Sabrina says, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "On her knees where she belongs."

Maya giggles again. "Oho Mommy Sabrina, you're funny."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Sabrina kisses the top of Maya's head, never taking her eyes off me. "You know, Maya, a real Luna would never let herself get this pathetic."

"What's pathetic mean?"

"It means sad and embarrassing," Sabrina explains, as if she's teaching Maya a vocabulary lesson. "Like your mommy right now."

Maya studies me for a moment, her head tilted. "Oh. Yeah, she does look sad and embarrassing."

My hands still and something inside me cracks I didn't know could break any further.

Why is my own daughter talking about me like this?!

Am I imagining this moment???

"Keep cleaning, Stella," Cole says from somewhere above me. His voice is bored. I snap back to reality and force my hands to move and scoop up chunks of cake while wiping at the frosting streaks.

"I bet she cried when she bought that cake," Sabrina continues, like I'm not even here. "Probably spent all her little cleaning money on it. How much do you think she makes scrubbing the pack toilets, Cole? Twenty dollars an hour?"

"If that." Cole's voice holds a hint of amusement now.

Sabrina laughs. "And she spent it all on a cake you were never going to eat. That's just… sad."

"So sad," Maya echoes...

'Stop listening,' Piper begs. 'Just finish and get out. Please.'

My vision blurs with tears, but I blink them back. I won't cry. Not here. Not in front of them.

I gather the last of the cake remnants and stand on shaking legs. The paper towels are sticky in my hands, covered in frosting and crushed flowers.

"Where's the trash?" My voice comes out hoarse.

Cole points to a small bin in the corner without looking at me.

I walk over and drop the mess inside. Then I stand there, staring at the bin, trying to figure out how to make my legs work again.

"You can go now," Cole says dismissively.

I immediately walk toward the door on autopilot. Behind me, I hear Sabrina whisper something to Maya. They both laugh as the door closes behind me with a soft click.

And I'm standing in the hallway outside Cole's office, my hands still sticky with frosting, my knees aching from kneeling on the hard floor.

Suddenly a small group of pack members is clustered near the water cooler down the hall. They stop talking when they see me.

One of them—a young woman named Rachel—looks at me with something like pity.

"Luna…" she starts.

"I'm fine," I say quickly, forcing my chin up. "Everything's fine."

But they can all smell the lie. Wolves always can.

As I walk past them, I hear the whispers start.

"Did you hear what happened?"

"She brought him a cake on her birthday and he—"

"—with Beta Sabrina right there in the office—"

"—and little Maya called Sabrina 'mommy'—"

"Poor thing. She didn't deserve that."

"Well, what did she expect? An Omega married to an Alpha like him?"

I keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Back straight. Head high.

Lunas don't break down in public.

Lunas don't show weakness.

Good wives smile and pretend everything is fine.

I make it through the building. Through the parking lot. All the way to my car.

My hands shake so badly I can barely get the key in the ignition.

The moment the car door closes, sealing me in, everything I've been holding back explodes.

A sob tears from my throat—raw and broken. I press my hands over my mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it's too late.

I cry until I can't breathe as my chest aches. There's nothing left inside me.

I devoted six years of my life to that man.

Six years of loving him. Of trying to be enough. Of making myself smaller and quieter and less demanding.

I gave him everything.

My body. My youth. My dreams.

And he treated me like garbage.

'We need to go home,' Piper whispers weakly. 'Before someone sees us like this.'

Home.

That word doesn't mean anything anymore.

But I don't have anywhere else to go.

I start the car and drive.