The cursed aplha's peace offering

Addison I can’t stand you anymore. I’m leaving,” Hunter said, each word dragged through clenched teeth. “Please… just have breakfast. I’ll go back to my room, I won’t make a sound,” I begged. “No one asked you to make me breakfast,” he snapped. “Are you stupid? Or do you actually think these little acts are going to change anything?” “It’s not an act,” I said, my voice trembling. “Is it so wrong to want my husband to eat before he goes to work?” “Husband?” Hunter mocked. “I didn't become your husband when my parents forced you on me. I didn't become your husband when we signed the marriage papers. I didn't become your husband when we started living together. But you think I'm your husband now? Because what, you made breakfast?” He was laughing now, hard, his hand on his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. I had nothing to say in return. He was right. Our parents were childhood friends who basically promised each other their children would get married when they were adults. Maybe if my parents hadn't passed away when I was fifteen, I would have been able to convince them it was a bad idea. People don't do that anymore. Unfortunately for me, they are dead. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur took me in and immediately decided I should start living with their son. They made us sign the marriage papers when we were eighteen. As grateful as I am for all they have done for me these past years, it still hurts that I didn't have a choice. I don't know why they felt a silly promise they made when they were young was more important than my life, than the life of their son. Hunter has hated my very existence since I started staying with him. I don't blame him, though. I was forced on him, but it's not like I had a choice either. Nobody likes being a burden. I tried everything possible to make him love me, or at least like me, but it didn't work. It doesn't help that his parents are starting to blame me because their son won't fall in love with me. Nine years later, we are both in our twenties, and nothing has changed. Every day is hell in this house. I realised he was still waiting for a response. “You are my husband, Hunter. Whether you like it or not, we are legally married.” I didn't wait for him to reply. He is so good at hurting my feelings, and I would prefer to spend the rest of my day in good spirits. A couple of hours later, I made my way to my place of work. It wasn't something I really enjoyed, but I loved that I had a place to go other than home. The gallery was bustling with people by the time I got there. “What's going on, Pete?” I asked the security guard. “Ma'am, it's been a while. I was starting to think you weren't coming to work again.” “You know me, I always come back. Why are so many people here anyway?” “Ohh, Mr. Matthew announced a free art exhibition last week. You didn't know that?” “I didn't know Matthew could do anything for free.” “I know, right?” Pete chuckled. “I kept some of the souvenirs for you, just in case.” He handed me a paper bag with the words The MAAD Gallery boldly written on it. I met Matthew in college. I was a financial accounting major while he was a visual art major. We had no reason to cross paths, but we both loved singing and met in a choir club on campus. When he wanted to start his business, he was short on funds, so I invested a lot of my savings and became a major shareholder, hence the name of the gallery, the first two letters of his name and mine joined together. I made my way to my favourite part of the gallery, where we kept the historical records and artifacts. I knew the place would be quiet. No one really cares about history. It's not like I care either, I'm just glad I have a place where I can unwind. “I have been waiting for you, sweetheart. What took you so long?” Mrs. Grey asked. She was one of the few people who liked history. She spends most of her time here, reading books she has already read a thousand times before. “Don't you get tired of reading these books?” I asked as I hugged her. “No. Why would I?” “One, they are fiction?” “No, they're not. You never even read them properly.” “I've skimmed through them. I get the gist.” “Is it so strange that our ancestors used to be powerful?” “You know it says one of the guys in the book you're holding can turn into a wolf, right? How is that not fiction?” “My dear, you have just become so used to this simple, monotonous modern world, every other thing seems like fiction to you.” “Whatever you say, Mrs. Grey,” I sighed. “Here, I got you a gift.” “It's a pendant,” I noted. “Yes, genius,” she laughed. “I know it's your birthday tomorrow. I will be going out of town, and I thought I'd give you an early birthday present.” “Aww, you didn't have to,” I said, trying not to cry. I don't get a lot of presents, as you can imagine. “You better wear it every day,” she said while putting it on my neck. “I will. Even though your taste is questionable, it's the thought that counts,” I teased. “You silly girl,” she laughed, slapping my arm lightly. “I have to go now. See you later.” She waved goodbye. “I'll walk you out.” On my way back, I spotted a group of co-workers speaking in hushed voices while glancing at their phones. “I thought they were married?” one of them said. “She's only a wife in name. He doesn't love her, maybe I have a chance after all,” another said. “You know I can hear you, right? What's going on?” “Maybe we wanted you to,” the girl who spoke last answered, rolling her eyes. I peeked at her phone and saw an article about my husband kissing a woman the bloggers called Kiera. My heart sank. He managed to ruin my day without even being here.