Silvia
I clenched my phone tightly as Alpha Sherman spoke, his voice apologetic yet hurried, like someone juggling multiple tasks at once, afraid of dropping any of them.
"Have Noah pack up lunch," he said. "I'll send a driver to pick it up."
I forced my voice to sound casual, light. "Sure, no problem."
But after hanging up, my fingers still gripped the phone.
I knew he had pack business to attend to.
I shouldn't be angry.
Yet disappointment crept into my bones like winter chill.
"Stupid," I chided myself silently.
I knew he was busy—the responsibilities of an Alpha never ended.
Why had I expected him to show up?
Perhaps it was because for the past three weeks, he had orbited around me like I was his personal moon, making me accustomed to his presence.
