“You’re throwing it all away,” she hissed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve lost? Tristan is an Alpha! You should be on your knees, thanking him for choosing you. Girls like you don’t get second chances.”
Yeah, I knew. She’s been drilling it into my head since I was a kid. Marry an Alpha. Secure the future. Blah, blah, blah. But here’s the thing—Tristan wasn’t a future. He was a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
When the broomstick came down on my back, I barely flinched. I was numb. She kept screaming, yelling things like, “Beg him back! Get pregnant if you have to!” As if that would magically fix everything. The weight of her words crushed me more than the hits ever could.
Then she kicked me out. Threw my stuff into the mud like garbage. A photo frame hit me square in the forehead, leaving a cut that started bleeding. Cool. Perfect way to top off the morning.
I knelt there in the rain, picking up what little I had left. The rain soaked through my clothes, mixing with the blood dripping down my face. I didn’t even care. Let it pour.