Chapter 7
What was Ethan really afraid of?
He stood frozen, his whole body trembling like he’d just been struck by lightning.
He finally realized that what he feared most wasn’t his identity being exposed or falling out
with Mira—what truly terrified him was losing me and Theo for good.
He had long stopped caring about Mira. What he clung to wasn’t Mira herself, but the
version of himself who once failed to keep her.
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That regret had turned into an obsession, a vain attempt to make up for what was lost. But
that was never love.
The one who truly mattered to him was me–the woman who always waited for him to
come home.
Once he figured that out, he couldn’t sit still another second. He spun around and bolted out the door, heading straight to the diner where I used to work.
Out of breath, he asked the owner if he knew where I’d gone.
The owner behind the counter didn’t even look up. “She quit. How would I know? Don’t block the register.”
Ethan’s gaze turned cold instantly. The weight of his Alpha presence pressed down, but he didn’t lash out. All he could care about was how much I’d endured working under someone
like this.
Just as his temper was about to explode, a waitress peeked out from the kitchen and waved
him over..
“Are you here to stand up for Cheryl?” she asked.
Ethan walked over, voice low and icy. “Yeah. What did the owner do to her? Did he hit her?”
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The waitress hesitated for a moment before whispering, “The boss has been harassing Cheryl for a while. Last week, he grabbed her ass. She flipped the whole table and stormed out. She didn’t even take her last paycheck.”
That was the moment Ethan completely lost it.
He took off his jacket and slowly walked toward the owner. Without another word, he landed a solid punch that sent the owner crashing to the floor.
The owner clutched his face and howled, but Ethan didn’t stop.
Every punch was heavy and direct, filled with rage and guilt. It wasn’t just the owner he was beating–he was beating the version of himself that had been blind and indifferent for
years.
With a cold expression, Ethan called the guards to haul the owner off to jail. He then turned
and went home.
A courier stood on the steps. Before he could speak, he flinched and backed away in fear.
Ethan’s white shirt was splattered with blood. His face was grim, and his entire being radiated a terrifying presence.
The courier hesitated before he quickly placed a box at the door. “This is the package for your place. No one was picking up the calls, so I’ll just leave it here.”
He turned and walked away fast, as if he were running for his life.
At the moment, Ethan was mentally and physically drained. He dropped the package beside him and collapsed on the cold floor.
I still didn’t answer his calls. He had dialed a few times, but all he heard was that same
robotic voice.
A surge of frustration exploded in his chest. He shot up and kicked the box hard.
The box crashed into the corner of the wall and split open. A few articles of clothing spilled
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onto the floor. They were clothes for little boys–clean but clearly worn.
Ethan stood frozen. He walked over and picked them up, piece by piece.
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At the bottom of the box, he found a note. “These are my son’s old clothes. They’re all
clean. If you still need more, just let me know.”
What did that mean? Was I out there begging for someone else’s hand–me–downs just to get Theo dressed?
He clenched at his chest like it had been ripped open and swept his gaze across the house.
The table was rough and splintered, the couch was cheap and worn, and the bed creaked with every movement. In the kitchen, the stove was old and unreliable. The cabinets were chipped and peeling, and the outdated range hood would sputter out halfway through
cooking.
This was the home he used to scoff at. But now, every single thing in it felt like a knife, stabbing straight into his heart.
Ethan was like a man who had lost control of his senses–crying one moment and laughing
the next.
What had he done? For the sake of some absurd “test of love“, he’d left his true Luna and
his pup to suffer in this rundown place.
He couldn’t bear it any longer. He repeatedly slapped himself hard.
In the end, he dropped to his knees, buried his face in one of Theo’s shirts, and sobbed like
a broken man.
But now, there was no one left in this house who would feel sorry for him.
