Chapter 4

Ella's POV

"Thanks for the milkshakes, Carson! Why'd you bring a dozen, trying to turn me into a piggy? I'm freezing over here!" I texted, adding a cute frozen emoji.

"Honey, you've been so quiet lately. I've noticed you've been distant. Is this about the lacy bra?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry. "Miss Wesley, "

I cut him off before he could go any further. "I'm tired. Bye." I ended the call without waiting for a response.

My phone buzzed again, but I ignored his calls. Once I got home, I went straight to our bedroom and started packing my things. Not long after, the door swung open, and Alpha Carson walked in. "I know you're upset. Here's your milkshake."

He handed it to me, and I accepted it with a polite smile. "Thanks," I said, placing it on the nightstand.

He looked around, noticing how bare the vanity was. His brow furrowed. "Did you throw some of your stuff out?"

"Yeah."

"I see... Anyway, I'll be away for a week. My parents need me to handle some business up north with one of the packs. Want me to bring anything back for you?" He started unbuttoning his shirt, preparing for a shower.

"Nah, I don't need anything," I replied, smoothing the bedsheets. "But thanks for asking."

What was the point, anyway, when I'd be gone in a few days?

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, revealing his muscled chest, the same chest that once felt so comforting. Now, though, his touch just made me feel uneasy.

"Is this still about the lacy bra? Is that what all of this is about?" His voice grew stern as he pulled me closer. "Why won't you listen to my explanation? You're acting so immature. Do you really think I'm cheating on you?"

I kept silent.

"So, this is what it's all about? I'm not cheating on you. Stop being dramatic, Ella. You know I can't stand a woman who's overly dramatic. You're getting out of line," he spat, his tone dripping with disgust.

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

In our seven years together, he was always the one to give me the silent treatment when I was upset. Every time, I'd end up apologizing, trying to make it right. But not this time. I didn't say a word. I ate dinner alone at the table while he stayed locked in his study, still fuming. When I went to bed, I didn't knock on his study door to apologize like he expected.

The next morning, he was grumpy, not speaking to me until his phone pinged. He looked at it instantly, then snapped at me, "Take the afternoon off. I need you to make me a fondant cake."

His tone made it sound like it was urgent.

A cake, so, it's someone's birthday. Since meeting my mate, I'd always been the one baking for him.

I glanced at his phone. I knew exactly who the cake was for. The little avatar on the screen was none other than his Miss Secretary.

Seconds of silence stretched between us, the tension palpable.

He looked at me, clueless to how unreasonable and unfair his request was, just waiting for me to say yes.

I kept my expression neutral and nodded, pretending to be unfazed. "Send me a picture of the cake you want," I said, standing up. "I'll go out and buy the ingredients before work."

This would be the last cake I ever made for him. I was done.

As I walked out of the dining room, my steps felt heavier with each one. My wolf's sadness gnawed at me, still hoping for a second chance with my mate.

"Ella," Alpha Carson called, his voice unsure.