“Bella Ford, can’t you sign the surgery consent form yourself? Did you really need to call me multiple times over this?”
“Just because Fiona Keller got hurt, do you have to go and break your own bones too? I’m already exhausted. Stop making things harder for me, okay?”
Jeffery’s voice crackled through the phone—cold, impatient, and laced with irritation. Ever since Fiona had crashed our wedding, he’d vanished with her for half a day.
This was the twentieth call I had made to him. The previous nineteen had all been declined without a single word.
His tone chilled me, but I still tried. “It was Fiona Keller who pushed me.”
“The doctor says a family member has to sign the consent form. Since you’re already at the hospital, could you please just come sign it?”
But instead of a reply, he hung up. Just like that.
Expecting as much, I exhaled slowly and turned to the doctor. “Bring me the form—I’ll sign it myself.”
The doctor hesitated. “Why not try reaching Mr. Hoffman one more time? Maybe he didn’t hear you clearly.”
“Just yesterday,” he continued, “he had the entire medical team on standby. He said if Fiona acted up during the wedding and hurt you, we were to treat you immediately, no questions asked.”
“Back then, even when you had a minor cold, Mr. Hoffman would call in specialists and sit at your bedside day and night.”
“If he knew you had a fracture—because of Fiona—he’d be furious. You’re the one who means the most to him.”
I forced a smile, bitter and hollow.
I used to believe that. I really did.
Eventually, the doctor gave in and handed me the form. I signed it myself.
Even as I was being wheeled into the operating room, a tiny part of me clung to the hope that Jeffery might show up. That he’d at least check in.
But all I received was a social media update.
A photo—Fiona, nestled in bed, smiling blissfully. Jeffery sat beside her, carefully cooling a bowl of soup before feeding it to her. One hand tugged her blanket up to her shoulders.
The caption read:
“You said three years of companionship was your greatest fortune. I’ll spend the rest of my life answering that love.”
I stared at the screen in disbelief. Just days ago, this same woman had been downing drinks like water, devastated by his sudden breakup with her.
Sloppy drunk and red-eyed, she had stormed into my place, pointed at me, and screamed through her tears:
“I was Jeffery’s secret girlfriend for three years! I gave him everything! But he never laid a hand on me—he kept saying Bella Ford was the only one he’d ever marry. Why do you get to be his favorite?”
“I tried to learn from you—I even made soup for him. But Jeffery just slapped me and said I was nothing compared to you. That I wasn’t as pretty, not as gentle, and told me to stop pretending to be you.”
Her emotions were overwhelming as she cried out, “He also said I was just a stand-in to kill time. That once your wolf awakened and confirmed the mate bond, he’d toss me aside. It’s not fair. Bella Ford, why do you get to be his mate? Wouldn’t it have been better if your wolf had never awakened?”
Back then, Jeffery had been furious at her insult toward me. He slapped her across the face and threw her out without a second thought.
His gaze toward Fiona had been cold, full of disdain, as he said, “We’re over. Don’t bother me again. How dare you curse Bella? You must be insane. If you’re so eager to die, do it yourself.”
“Bella is my mate. She’s the only one I see.”
And yet today, at the wedding, he didn’t hesitate. He rushed straight to Fiona Keller.
Werewolves usually awaken at the age of eighteen, but even by twenty-two, there was still no sign of mine. This led some people in the pack to believe I might be different—that once I awakened, I’d possess extraordinary abilities. But so far, I hadn’t noticed anything special about myself. Except for one thing—my intuition was always spot-on.
Just like now. Something deep inside me was telling me it was time to let go of my relationship with Jeffery.