Reclaim the rejected Luna's Heart

Lyra Today was my third wedding anniversary with Alpha Liam Montreal. I wore the red lacy lingerie he liked, prepared all his favorite dishes, lit the candles, and set out the flowers. He told me he'd be back tonight. But 8pm struck. 9pm. 10pm. Then 12am. Dusk had passed, and Liam still hadn't returned. Just then, my phone lit up. I wasted no time opening it—but it wasn’t him. It was Evelyn, Liam's first love, who left many years ago. In every single one of these photos, Liam was there. On her first day back, he had rented the whole yacht for her, she mentioned in her caption, and paid for the expensive fireworks. They were laughing. A tenderness I had never seen over the past year.  He chose her. Again. I couldn't hold it any longer. Tears spilled as I saw the photo of them with a little boy who had Liam's blue eyes. In one, Evelyn was holding the little boy in her arms while Liam stood behind her, smiling as if he had everything he ever wanted. They looked like a family. A real family. My hands trembled as I scrolled through the photos. My heart ached, tears soaking the screen. He hadn't even sent me a message. Today was our anniversary, and he chose to be with his lover instead. He hadn't even bothered to call. Alpha Liam Montreal could easily hide anything—deals, bodies, wars, and armies. If the world is seeing this, it's because he wants them to. He's telling everyone—telling me—who he really chose. I switched off my phone and stood still for a long time. Just breathing. Just... trying to feel anything other than the cold sinking in my chest. Liam had done nothing special for me in the past year. And I gave excuses for him. I told myself all marriages fell into routine. Told myself he was busy. He was Alpha Liamander Montreal after all, the powerful leader of Blue Ridge pack. Since taking over with an iron fist, he was always busy. Always swamped with work. How could he have time for me? Yet here he was with her. Smiling. Happy. Baking cake and having fun. My knees wobbled, and I fell to the floor. My wolf, Laika, whimpered painfully inside my chest. Why Evelyn? Why her? A painful memory, one I had long since forced to keep away, found its way to my head. A year ago, Evelyn and I both fell into the river during a rogue ambush. Instead of saving me, he chose to save her. I had suffered a miscarriage, losing my child. I had always thought Evelyn lost her baby, too. That's why she left him and never returned. And that's why Liam grew colder toward me. But looking at those pictures, at that child clinging to her... I realized I had been lying to myself. She never lost her baby. Only I had lost mine. I turned to the mirror on the wall. The red lace I wore clung to my skin like a sick joke. Since my miscarriage a year ago, I had sunk into depression, and that depressed woman stared back at me. She looked pale, tired, hollow, and thin. Yet all this time, he was with her. While I wallowed in self-pity and mourned our child, he was with her. Tears burned at the back of my eyes. I stood up. My feet were still wobbly, but I managed to walk to the table and pick up each dish. One by one, I tossed them into the sink. They were useless now. All the meals I prepared, the cold and empty house I cleaned, the cozy curtains I washed and spritzed with his favorite scent, the plants he loved that I selected for dinner tonight, the wedding photo frames I dusted... they were all useless. Just like me. I stopped to look at the photo. It looked frozen in time. In it, I was smiling. So was Liam. I touched the edge of the frame and tried to remember how it felt that day. He had gently kissed me under the moonlight that night. And it was that kiss, that illusion of tenderness that made me fall for him—fall for a man whose heart was never mine. It felt like a slap to my face. The sound of the door opening startled me. An irresistible force pushed it over before I could respond. Liam. His tall figure filled the entire doorway. Black suit unbuttoned, the collar of his shirt disheveled, his chiseled features appeared even sharper in the shadows, like a sculpture, cold and unyielding. Yet, Laika whimpered at the sight. He walked in, yanked off his half-loosened tie, and tossed it at the entrance. As he took off his jacket, he looked ahead, and that's when he saw me. I couldn't tell what thought he had in his head, but I recognized the look in his eyes. Lust. I staggered back. My mouth opened before I could think, and I asked. "Do you remember what day it is today?" He didn't answer. "Liam—" He cut me off. "Undress." One word. A command. Yet it felt like a thousand more cutting through me. When I didn't undress immediately, he walked over and, reaching out, grabbed my waist, pulling me to him. His lips began to brush my neck, his hands pulling the strap of the lace dress of my shoulders. I should have given in to this. It was what I wanted all day, what I'd prepared for. Yet all I felt was disgust. Disgust at the thought of the hands he'd used to touch that woman on me—disgust at everything. "I'm not in the mood for this," I tried to push him off me, but he didn't budge. His hands slid down my waist, making their way up my thigh. His lips curled into a sneer. "Don't play hard to get, Lyra. You dressed up for me," his eyes once again roved over me, over the red lingerie I'd polished and worn just for him. "Is this not what you want? To seduce me?" That was it. The last straw. How dare he? He had been with Evelyn. I could even smell her scent and her pup on him. How dare he think I would want him after that? I wanted to scream at him. I opened my mouth to do just that, but the shrill ring of his phone cut me off. Only then did he let go and step back, answering the call without even glancing at me. "Hello. What's wrong?" His voice suddenly turned soft. A softness I hadn't heard in a long while. "Are you okay?" I could even hear her soft, anxious voice on the other end of the line. Then— "Hold on. I'll be there right away." He ended the call and looked at me, voice cold. "Go to bed." I swallowed the lump in my throat. He was going back to her. Desperately, I asked a question I already knew the answer to. "Is she back?" I got no response. And he left without looking back.