Hypocrisy

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

I was born into a regular family in the Moonridge Pack with no status, but through years of training, I fought my way up to become our pack's Gamma. My father was just an Omega and he worked as an ordinary salesman who always claimed he was too busy for family. When he finally took a vacation, I spent $100,000 of my own money to plan a luxury cruise for us all. Then his mistress Sarah and her daughter Emily heard about our trip and suddenly wanted to join. Without even discussing it, my father gave them our luxury suite and relegated Mom and me to the cramped staff quarters below deck. Even my grandmother, a respected elder, supported his decision. My fourteen-year-old brother took their side too, charmed by their fake sweetness. So I changed our plans. I took Mom on a first-class flight to a private island resort instead, where we spent three perfect months. That's when the family started to panic...

The year was 1983. The sun had set. It was dark outside. Only one dim light was in the Foster family’s living room. “Dad, Mom, I’m willing to live abroad with you.” When they heard their daughter’s words through the phone, Philip York and Angela York were moved to tears of excitement.

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

On the day I was supposed to marry Cyrus Lloyd, his crush returned from abroad. She held a notice which said she did not have long to live and smiled sadly. “Cyrus, I thought you’d let me wear a wedding dress one last time.” To grant her wish, Cyrus gave her my wedding dress. He even made her as the bride instead of me. He locked me inside the dressing room. Through the door, he said in annoyance, “We still have a future together. What’s wrong with letting her have this?” Later, a rich guy who secretly had a crush on me proposed to me. With teary eyes, Cyrus begged, “Do you really not care about me anymore because of him?” I took a step back. “We don’t have a future anymore. Why should I care about you?”

At the wedding I've spent months planning, my usually stoic fiancé, Anthony Scott, is about to run off with his assistant, Erica Jones. To top it all off, she is wearing a wedding gown. Out of nowhere, his younger brother, Christopher Scott, grabs my hand and plans to pull me straight to City Hall. He disregards my panicking eyes. "Let's get married," he says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Then, the stage decorations suddenly collapse, revealing a room full of guests mocking and laughing at me. The two men who once swore to love me forever do all just to make Erica smile. The three of them clink glasses and drink a love toast on stage, completely lost in their own moment. "The wedding you planned was way too outdated. You should thank Erica for turning it into a bachelorette party!" "The real wedding will be this Sunday. Isn't Erica's idea amazing?" Anthony and Christopher were confident that I wouldn't dare leave them. But I quietly pick up my phone and type a message. "Let's set the wedding date for this Sunday, Levi."

My husband was tall and handsome, but he had no money to pay his debts. During the five years of our marriage, I sold my house and car for him. We then moved to a dark and humid basement that was only 300 square feet in size. When I got pregnant, I wanted to go for checkups, but he said that there was no need for it, as it was a waste of money. So I gave birth to a baby with a congenital heart condition. In order to get the money for his surgery, I worked three jobs every day. At that time, I noticed that my husband bought a mansion worth 40 million dollars for an influencer, and I finally realized that my husband was no orphan, but the son of the richest man in the country.

Everyone says that Eric Winslowe, the Alpha of Kalmoor Pack, loves me to the bone. He learns sign language for me because I can't hear, and he prepares to throw me a grand wedding after I thoroughly fall for him. However, after I regain my hearing, I catch him flirting and being intimate with Camilla Johnson, his maid. They're just in the room next to mine. During a banquet, he even takes advantage of my lack of hearing to brag. "She's just a pet that I have to alleviate the boredom. Alison is the only one I love. Still, I know she'll leave me if she finds out about this. "Thank God Alison can't hear. I won't let her find out about this even after we're married. Watch your mouths, everyone. Don't blame me for getting nasty if any of you bring this up to Alison." I sneer to myself. I want to tell him that he doesn't need to fear others exposing his cheating—I already know. He also doesn't need to look forward to our wedding because all that awaits him on that day is a corpse that looks just like me.

Not long after getting married to my husband, he says he wants to teach me how to scuba dive. My leg cramps when I'm practicing alone in the deep sea. However, my husband, a swimming instructor, chooses to save his unattainable love—she's jumped into the sea to commit suicide. I don't ask him for help. Instead, I allow myself to slowly sink. In my past life, I stopped my husband from leaving. He saved me with gnashed teeth and allowed his first love, Millie Quirke, to drown. By the time he went to save her, she'd already disappeared in the water. He comforted me and told me it was okay, that he was glad he'd saved me. However, one night, he brought me back to the seaside. Just as I let my guard down, he grabbed my neck and plunged my face into the water. Then, he dragged me out before I could suffocate. "You were just cramping—it would've passed! But Millie got dragged away by the current because of you! You can remain in the ocean with her!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day I was scuba diving.

During the pack's wilderness training, my adopted sister, Tessa, shoved me from a cliffside thick with wolfsbane. My Alpha, Fenrir, turned and left with Tessa feigning injury in his arms, leaving me for dead at the bottom of the ravine. I died instantly, but my soul lingered, watching everything with cold detachment. I watched as Tessa's tearful complaints swayed him into blaming me for my own disappearance. "Will Selene ever stop causing me trouble?" "She's weak and always looking for trouble. How could she possibly be fit to be our Luna?" He had no idea I was already dead at the bottom of that cliff choked with wolfsbane. Five whole days. The poison hit my bloodstream like liquid fire, racing through my veins with merciless speed. As my body decayed under the moonlight, my love for him faded with it. The title of Luna, the magnificent coronation I had dreamed of, everything I once cherished was now meaningless. The Selene who loved him was well and truly dead.