Chapter 4
During my annual leave, I went on a beach trip with my parents.
The sun was blazing, the breeze was soft, and for once, I had fun. I didn’t worry about work, or Kael, or anyone else.
I came back with sun–kissed skin, bronzed from the ocean light.
I didn’t think anything of it–until the moment I walked into the office that Monday, wearing a soft pink knit top.
Riley’s eyes zeroed in on me like a viper spotting prey.
“Oh. My. God!” she practically shrieked, slapping a hand over her mouth with theatrical flair.
“Talia, you seriously wore that color? With that tan?”
Her laugh was sharp and metallic, the kind that made your teeth ache–like nails on a chalkboard.
“Seriously though,” she snorted, turning to her usual peanut gallery, “what princess from Disney shows up looking like that? I don’t remember seeing any princesses…umm…ugly…”
One of the guys snickered. Another actually laughed out loud.
I froze, heat rushing to my face, not from embarrassment–but fury.
And Kael?
He was standing right there.
He looked at me.
Then he smiled.
Not a warm smile. Not one of those “I’ve got you” kinds of looks.
No. It was cold. Dismissive. Almost amused.
He didn’t say a word to defend me, nor even frown.
That was the moment something inside me cracked.
Maybe it was the eighteen years of friendship.
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Maybe it was the illusion I’d built around him.
Or maybe it was the feelings I once had for him as my mate.
But I’ve never been the type to just sit there and take it. So I grabbed the nearest cup of coffee- mine—and threw it straight into Riley’s face.
She shrieked like a banshee as the liquid splattered across her perfect makeup, mascara streaking
down her cheeks in two dark, dripping lines.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shrieked, clutching at her face like it had been acid.
I smirked, voice cold and sharp, “Aren’t you the one who always says you’re not some dainty Omega? So what’s with the full face of war paint at nine a.m.? False lashes, lip gloss, contour sharper than your attitude–honestly, Riley, you wear more makeup than I do.”
Gasps echoed around the office. A couple coworkers rushed over to break things up.
Kael snatched the coffee cup out of my hand, eyes glinting with anger.
“Talia,” he said through clenched teeth, “apologize.”
I stared him down, my throat burning, but my voice steady as ice.
“She humiliated me in front of everyone. And you laughed. But now that I’m not playing nice,
suddenly I’m the problem?”
His jaw clenched. “Stop acting like a child. You were out of line. Own it.”
I gave a bitter laugh. “Own it? Own this.”
And I said it. The three words that shattered everything.
“Go screw yourself.”
The room froze.
Then-
SLAP.
His palm cracked against my face like thunder.
In the ringing silence, I could hear Riley’s triumphant little sob, the whispers of coworkers, the
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disbelief crawling across every wall of that office.
And I realized–this was it.
Eighteen years of history.
Broken.
I slowly looked up at the boy who once punched another kid for calling me names.
“Kael,” I said quietly, voice steady, “We’re done.”
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