Designed to Love

002: It's Over

A woman lay sprawled on a lobby sofa, her body turned inwards. Her black backpack was discarded on the floor beside her. Her shoes, meticulously placed on the edge to avoid dirtying the upholstery, dangled precariously.

Before that fateful call, Leona had been in the middle of her research's most critical experiment. She'd planned to catch a quick nap in her dorm after checking the results. The phone call had upended everything. Now, with her hair a bird's nest, eyes bloodshot, and dark circles carved deep under them, she looked nothing like a respectable person.

Her position directly faced the elevator bank. Every exiting guest would turn and see this oddly dressed woman. They cast disdainful glances her way, their steps instinctively veering wide to avoid her spot.

Leona wished she could just fall asleep here and now. Maybe when she woke, she'd be back home in Nice, France: Jamie just back from work, looking at her with mock disgust after her afternoon nap on the couch, reaching out to tweak her ear and shoo her into the kitchen to cook.

But reality denied her such fantasies. The moment she closed her eyes, the scene from the bedroom replayed on an endless, cruel loop behind her eyelids.

A bitter, twisted smile tugged at Leona's lips. Her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, unblinking, until a single tear escaped the corner of her red-rimmed eye and traced a cold path down her temple.

She felt a sudden surge of anger—at herself. For the first time, she despised her own rationality. Why hadn't she just charged in there and pummeled that bastard? Why had she remained so calm, even uttering words like "I'll wait for you downstairs"? Was it because she didn't love him enough? Then why did her chest feel torn to shreds?

Someone had once told her, long ago, to be a little wilder, to not always endure, to stop internalizing everything, to stop blaming herself first. If it had been that person in her shoes, they probably would have rushed in and smashed something over the cheating scoundrel's head.

Leona was amused by her own thought, the ghost of a smile touching her lips.

After the initial storm of rage and disappointment passed, what remained was an endless, profound sorrow. It was as if she had always sensed this day would come; there was no shock, only a hollow confirmation. Perhaps she'd known, deep down, from the very beginning, that their marriage was built on sand.

Half an hour later, Jamie emerged from the elevator, wrapped in a coat that wasn't his. He spotted Leona collapsed on the sofa immediately.

Jamie wasn't in good shape. Still in the throes of his heat, every step felt like wading through cotton. If not for the vials of inhibitors Leona had left behind in the room, he might not have been able to get out of bed at all.

"Leona!"

Jamie tightened the coat around himself and sat down beside her. The oversized garment swallowed his frame. Leona glanced over; beneath that glaringly foreign coat was an equally unfamiliar short-sleeved t-shirt.

He'd come in a rush, still wearing the hotel-provided slippers.

Leona looked away, pushing herself upright on the sofa. A wave of dizziness washed over her; she instinctively gripped the seat beneath her. By the time her vision cleared, Jamie's pale face was already streaked with tears.

"It's not what you think," Jamie choked out between sobs. He reached for Leona's hand, but she pulled away. "My heat came early. Last night, we… Chelsey and I just got back from dinner. There was an omega in the elevator in full heat, and I just… I wasn't prepared at all. I did call the front desk for help! But you know ordinary inhibitors don't work for me anymore. I injected it, but it was useless. And Chelsey… she was right there. She was holding back, but I… I couldn't control myself, so…"

Leona let out a soft laugh, as if she'd just heard a particularly absurd joke.

"It's true! I'm not lying to you! Xiao Yan!" Jamie was getting frantic, tears welling up anew. "Xiao Yan, what do I have to say to make you believe me? I didn't mean for this to happen! It was an accident!"

"So, it was Chelsey!" The words came out, and Leona was surprised by how hoarse her own voice sounded. She thought she'd moved past caring, but realizing it was Chelsey brought an inexplicable, twisted sense of relief. If it was her… then maybe Leona hadn't lost to just anyone. She clung to that pathetic shred of comfort.

"No! The point isn't Chelsey! The point is another omega's heat triggered mine! Ordinary inhibitors are useless on me—you know that!"

"If it weren't for these damned inhibitors failing, I would never have…"

"The front desk said they never received any distress call from your room."

Leona's tone was disturbingly calm, as if knowing it was Chelsey had granted her a perverse sense of closure.

Jamie faltered. He'd blacked out drinking with Chelsey last night. He vaguely remembered an omega in a red dress in the elevator, emanating an intoxicating scent. He'd inhaled a little too deeply… Back in the room, his legs had turned to jelly, and then the tidal wave of his heat had hit…

So, in the end, had he pressed the call button? Had anyone brought inhibitors? Had he injected anything? He had no memory of it. When he woke, he was already in bed with Chelsey.

Leona watched the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes and knew the answer.

What do I do? The icy detachment in Leona's gaze sent a jolt of panic through Jamie. In all their years together, Leona had never looked at him with such coldness. It was the look one gives a stranger—no, not even a stranger warranted such utter lack of warmth.

Jamie's mind was a chaotic whirl. Leona's quiet accusations filled him with guilt. Whether out of self-preservation or sheer habit, his next move was instinctive. He pursed his lips, his tear-filled eyes locking onto Leona's with practiced intensity.

"I did press it! Don't you believe me?"

In the past, this look alone—this vulnerable, pleading expression—would have been enough. No matter the transgression, Leona would have melted, pulled him into her arms, and soothed him until the crisis passed.

But today was different.

The familiar, warm embrace didn't come. Jamie was met with only a long, heavy silence.

Leona finally looked up at him. Jamie's tearful gaze elicited no pity from her now. "What's done is done. It's too late for explanations." She gestured vaguely toward his neck. "A permanent bond mark… unless you willingly undergo a cleansing, it's forever. You know how difficult and dangerous the cleansing process is. It's not worth it for a beta like me."

A flicker of something—panic, perhaps—crossed Jamie's face.

"Actually, everyone was right. We're not suited for each other." Leona felt a weight lift as she said it. Admitting it aloud wasn't as hard as she'd imagined.

She looked at him. The large coat couldn't hide all the marks. Seeing the fresh imprints left by another alpha on Jamie's skin, even without smelling the pheromones, she knew Jamie's body was now saturated with another woman's scent.

"You're saying we're not suited?" Jamie stared at her, incredulous. "We've been together for five years! And you're telling me this now? Why didn't you say it before we got married? Just because I made one little mistake—a mistake any man could make—you're saying we're not right?"

Faced with his indignation, Leona couldn't help but recall how they were when they first got together. A faint, sad smile touched her lips. "We were both too young back then. We really believed love could conquer everything."

"But the facts have proven us wrong." Leona met Jamie's gaze directly, her voice firm. "Jamie, let's get a divorce."

The phone in Jamie's hand clattered to the floor. He bent to pick it up, still in disbelief. He must have misheard. The word "divorce" couldn't possibly have come from Leona's mouth.

They'd grown up together. Since childhood, Leona had always deferred to him, no matter how big or small the issue. Even the most unreasonable demands were met with a nod if he just pouted and whined a little.

Just as Leona said, no one had approved of their union. After the novelty wore off, Jamie, too, had felt pangs of regret. But he had been the one to pursue Leona initially. To be the one to ask for a divorce now… whether due to pride or an unwillingness to relinquish Leona's unwavering care, he had never been able to bring himself to say the words all these years.

But just because he couldn't say it, didn't mean Leona could say it first. The thought that Leona dared to dump him first chafed unbearably. His gaze on her grew increasingly resentful.

"Leona, how dare you suggest divorce to me!" He glared at her, venom in his eyes.

"All these years, I'm the one who endured my biological needs to be with you! I'm the one who disregarded my own health, pumping myself full of inhibitors for the sake of our marriage! You're practically a doctor yourself. Don't you know the damage those inhibitors have done to me? All you see is me getting the bond mark cleansed. Did you ever think about what happens if I keep using inhibitors? When they all stop working, the only way to survive a heat will be to have my gland removed!"

"I've been loving you with everything I have, risking my life! And you? What right do you have to talk to me about divorce?"

Leona opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat.

"I already explained it was an accident! I pressed the button, I called for help! Why it turned out this way, I don't know! I'm the real victim here! You can't… you can't just divorce me over one accident, just because another omega triggered my heat and I had to find an alpha to help?"

Jamie's voice was ragged, his flushed face smeared with tears.

"Leona, you're a f*****g bastard!"

Jamie sniffled, wiping his face roughly with his sleeve. He shot Leona one last, venomous glare. "I won't agree to a divorce!"

Watching his retreating back, Leona leaned back into the sofa and shook her head with a soft, bitter laugh. "Jamie, Jamie… how can you call yourself innocent? But then… it was Chelsey."

In another corner of the hotel lobby, a man stubbed out his cigarette. The woman beside him asked softly, "Should we go over?"

The man shook his head. "The deeper the wound, the faster she'll forget."

Leona sat on the sofa a while longer. Finally, she pulled her phone from her pocket, opened the pinned chat with Jamie, and slowly typed out a message:

"When you get back, let's find time to sort out the paperwork."

"I'll move my things out tomorrow."

The moment she hit send on the second message, a system notification popped up.

"Message delivered, but rejected by the recipient."

Leona shook her head, a wry smile on her lips. She wasn't surprised.

She picked up her backpack from the floor. Her eyes fell on the bag of inhibitors still on the table. After a moment's hesitation, she picked it up. Leona took a deep, steadying breath, straightened her wool coat, and strode purposefully toward the hotel exit.

The bag of inhibitors was unceremoniously tossed into a trash bin just outside the hotel doors.

From his corner, the watching man slowly rose to his feet, his eyes following Leona's departure. A faint, knowing smile curved the corners of his mouth.