Signed the divorce papers

[Elara's POV]

When I returned to the Gravefur pack house, I saw him everywhere, as well as the life we had created there. Crippling pain consumed me as I considered what I was leaving behind, but I refused to let him take anything more from me. I would not allow him to harm the life that was growing within me. These babies were just as much mine as they were his, and I would do everything I could for them. My heart ached and my breaths came in heavy pants as the weight of loss sank into my body. The babies wouldn't make it here. The wounds I sustained from the Gravefur pack raid had only grown worse. It was too much for me, let alone the newborn babies. I didn’t want them dying before I had a chance to save them.

I wiped my tears and tied my hair in a bun before packing all my belongings. With shaking hands, I picked up my clothes, my personal items; everything precious was packed away in my suitcase. I didn’t look up once. I didn’t speak. I just needed to get out of there. My home. Our home. I had been away from there long enough. I had to leave before Ethan arrived. I had to go far, far away to keep the babies safe. I didn’t know where or how exactly yet, but this time I couldn’t stay there with him. He could destroy our whole life again if he found out. No one would be safe. Not even me and my unborn children. I had to leave. We had to leave, now.

I stood by the door to gather my courage, then I reached down to pick up my handbag that held the last letter. I couldn’t keep it there anymore. I couldn’t. But I had to write my goodbye to Clara—my loyal maid. She was the one person there who cared for me, the one person there who still loved me. After writing my goodbye letter, I sat down at the dining table. The silence in the house was scary. Everything felt different. My world had changed completely. Frozen. Just like the weather outside. Too cold. The air outside was like ice, and the wind was cutting right through my thin nightgown. I shivered slightly. Why wasn’t the heat working? I needed warmth. Something warm to replace the pain in my heart.

A small flame ignited on the fireplace mantle, but I barely paid attention to it. There was nothing else for me in this world, except those children. They were all I had left. All the things I loved about this world. I took a deep breath and pulled out the divorce papers from my bag. I stared at them for the last time with teary eyes before signing them with a shaking hand. Then I folded the file and slammed it on the table. My hands felt numb and the only thing holding me together was the babies in my womb. I sighed as I closed a chapter of my life with just a few drops of ink. As I looked around the room, I could tell everything was ready. Except I still felt empty. I knew I shouldn’t. I was doing the right thing for the babies, even if I wasn’t myself. The fire crackled loudly as I grabbed my coat and hat and opened the door to exit the house, stepping onto the porch.

I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed her number. I hadn’t called her since two years after the separation of my parents. I didn’t know how she would react to my sudden call, but I needed to talk to someone. I needed someone who understood. When she answered on the first ring, I instantly felt relief flood through me.

She answered cheerfully, “Yes, Elara?” Her voice was full of concern. My voice was low so no one could hear me. I wondered if she could sense my pain. Yes, she did. “Are you alright, dear?”

It took all of my strength not to break down and cry on the spot.

“I’m fine,” I said quietly.

“What happened?” she asked urgently. A sob escaped from my lips. My voice shook as I continued to speak.

She knew something was wrong. She must be able to read my mind. “Why are you crying?”

“Can I stay with you for a few days?” I asked softly. My voice broke when I finished speaking. She heard it. It was hard not to. She always knew how I was feeling, even when I tried to hide it from her. “I need a change of scenery. I miss you.”

“Of course you can stay here,” she said warmly. “You don’t need to ask for my permission to stay with me. You’re always welcome, dear.”

She was right. Of course, she was. I never had any problems coming over whenever I needed some peace and quiet, and she had always been welcoming and understanding. “Thank you. And I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, dear.” We both hung up shortly after that. The connection ended and I stared at my cell. I thought I might cry again, so I put it back in my pocket.

I looked at the ring that Ethan had given me on our wedding day. As I slipped it off my finger, a flood of memories washed over me. The day had been perfect, as had the reception. I was wearing a beautiful white dress, and he was wearing a tuxedo. That day, we had finally gotten married. I was wearing my mother’s wedding dress. In the background, I could hear the sounds of music playing. The guests seemed happy, and everyone danced.

The music started to slow down as the DJ announced that it was time to begin the dance floor. People slowly began to join in. Everyone turned toward me expectantly. Ethan smiled as he placed his hand on top of mine. Together we led everyone onto the dance floor. We were a family. For the first time in forever, I felt complete. My heart swelled with emotion. My tears flowed freely as I closed my eyes and smiled.

I looked at him, his face, his smile, the way his lips felt against my skin. Everything I had ever wanted in a man. Ethan had loved me and supported me in my choices, even though he didn’t always understand them. He never blamed me, and he always loved me unconditionally. He was the perfect husband. So good. So kind. So gentle. Kind and loving. He was everything a woman should dream about and never expected. Then what happened? What changed between us?

So many feelings flooded me—happiness, joy, peace, love, hate. I smiled at the memory and dropped the ring somewhere on the ground. Then I took a shaky breath and turned away from the house and into the street. I started walking toward the river where my mom used to live. I was walking alone on the roadside when I heard the sound of a car door banging shut. I stopped and spun around. The noise echoed throughout my ears as Daniel jogged over to me. His eyes scanned over me quickly. There was a frown marring his face. “Are you okay? Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked worriedly.

I shook my head, trying to look normal and strong. “Take me to my mother’s home.”

His expression became one of surprise and hesitation. He didn’t know why I wanted to go there, but he trusted me enough to follow my lead. “Yeah, certainly. Come...” After helping me get inside the car and putting my suitcase in the rear, he took the controls.

“She lives in Arcanis Reach near the river,” I said weakly, staring out the window and watching the scenery pass us by. The car slowed and pulled into the driveway, parking beside a huge old oak tree in front of an enormous mansion. I opened the door and stepped outside. I walked up the brick path and stopped in front of the grand entrance. It appeared more worn than I remembered, and the paint was peeling, yet it still made me nostalgic for my early years.

A breeze ruffled my hair. I ran a hand through it nervously. How I missed its softness and comforting touch, but right now, I couldn’t be bothered to care. Daniel walked up behind me and opened the front doors for me. He looked nervous. “Do you... do you want me to put the suitcase inside?”

I shook my head and gestured for him to go. The doors creaked open as I stepped closer to them. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, closing my eyes and opening them to see my old house again. “Home sweet home.”

Everything was the same as I had left it—dusty, dark, and gloomy—but still comforting and familiar. My eyes immediately fell upon the stairs leading to the second-floor balcony. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered my last visit to my childhood house. It had been my happiest moment because it reminded me of him. I walked up the steps and paused as I reached the doorway to my childhood bedroom. I pushed aside the door, stepped inside, and gasped when I saw what lay within. My mother’s old sewing machine was gone. Instead, an elegant, antique-looking desk sat in the middle of the room with a pair of leather-bound books stacked neatly on each side of it.

I stood frozen in the doorway as tears rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably. I didn’t know whether I should sit or stand. Should I leave? Maybe I had made a mistake coming here. I was getting nervous and starting to second-guess my choice. Perhaps I should just book a hotel room. I shouldn’t have arrived here. As I reached to grab my luggage and run, I saw my mother’s grey eyes peering back at me through the open door.

“Mom...”

“Elara?” Startled, she responded. She glanced at the suitcase, then darted her gaze intently into mine. “Is everything alright

?” she asked. Concern filled her eyes as she stared at me worriedly. She was wearing a pale blue sundress and sandals with matching pearls around her neck. I was unable to reply, my eyes welling with tears and my throat suddenly feeling tight. I couldn’t hold back anymore. Tears streamed like raindrops from my eyes.

“Elara?” She walked towards me cautiously as her fingers brushed along my arm, but I flinched away from her. “Elara, what are you doing here? Where’s Ethan?”

No words came to my mouth as I stared silently at her. I couldn’t believe this was really happening. I had to tell her about my divorce. I... I thought she would understand the situation. When she gave me a reassuring hug, I eventually started crying. I cried uncontrollably for my failed marriage and the loss of my mate. We cried in each other’s embrace as I cried for the past two years. It felt like it had been 20 years instead. After some time, I pulled away and wiped my streaming eyes. She looked me straight in the eyes. The worry lines lining her brows disappeared, and her eyes brightened. She pulled me into another tight hug, stroking my hair lovingly. I buried my face in her shoulder as I let go of the tears that hadn’t stopped flowing.

She knew the feeling of divorce. The feeling of rejection. The pain of losing a mate. The pain of separation and betrayal. Her face became solemn again. We stayed like that for some minutes until I pulled away. Once we had calmed down, I wiped away my remaining tears. She took a seat beside me on the bed and patted the spot next to her. I shook my head no and pulled the blankets over myself. It seemed so strange. We both stayed quiet, waiting for someone to speak up. Finally, she broke the silence, “Has he rejected you yet?”