The Alpha Went Insane When He Found out I Pretended to Love Him

The soft hum of the refrigerator filled the otherwise silent kitchen. Amelia stood by the counter, staring blankly at her phone screen. The divorce agreement was saved in her drafts, the cursor blinking as if waiting for her to press "print."

Her thumb hovered over the screen, but her mind was elsewhere. She thought of all the things she had given up to be here—her dreams, her independence, and, most of all, her heart.

“Amelia?” Adam’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Her wolf felt uncomfortable the moment he stepped in.

She turned abruptly to see him standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. His sharp, dark eyes bore into her with faint curiosity. “Who are you calling?”

She blinked, tucking her phone into her apron pocket. “No one,” she said quickly, her tone indifferent.

Adam raised a brow. “Why are you suddenly acting like this? You seemed… different.”

The irony wasn’t lost on her. He had the audacity to call her out for being distant when he had spent years in another world entirely—one where only Bridgette existed.

“Just thinking about the groceries,” she lied, brushing past him to the sink.

The Alpha didn’t press further. He simply shrugged and glanced at his phone, the glow of the screen lighting up his face. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, and Amelia didn’t have to guess why.

That night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while Adam’s shallow breathing filled the room. His back was to her, his body curled slightly as he cradled his phone like a lifeline.

She listened to the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath, each exhale a reminder of the emotional distance between them. It was as though a chasm had formed in their bed, wide and unbridgeable.

Her mind wandered to the woman he’d always loved. Bridgette. The name alone felt like a ghost haunting their marriage. Amelia wondered if Adam had ever truly seen her, or if she’d always been a placeholder for the woman he couldn’t have.

The next morning, the scent of a traditional English breakfast filled the kitchen. Amelia plated the eggs, toast, bacon, and beans with precision.

Adam walked in, his hair slightly tousled from sleep. He sat at the table, glancing at the spread before him. “British breakfast?” He asked, raising a brow.

“It’s all we had,” she replied smoothly, pouring herself a cup of tea.

Adam frowned but didn’t push further. Instead, his attention shifted to his phone. Amelia noticed the faint smile that appeared when his screen lit up. It was Bridgette again. She could tell by the way his posture straightened, the way his fingers eagerly tapped out a reply.

“Big plans today?” She asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

“Just pack matters,” Adam muttered, not looking up.

Amelia sat across from him, sipping her tea. Her movements were calm, deliberate. She reached into her bag and pulled out the divorce agreement, the neatly stapled pages pristine and waiting.

“I need you to sign this,” she said, sliding the papers across the table.

Adam didn’t even glance at them. “What is it?” He asked distractedly, his eyes still glued to his phone.

“Just some paperwork for the pack,” she replied, her tone light.

He nodded, picking up a pen and scrawling his signature without hesitation.

Amelia watched him, her chest tight with a mixture of relief and nervousness. He didn’t even bother to ask what he was signing.

As he pushed the papers back toward her, he finally looked up. “Anything else?”

“No,” she said, her lips curling into a humorless smile. “That’s all.”

Adam grunted in acknowledgment, already returning his attention to his phone.

Amelia stared at him for a moment longer, taking in the man she’d spent three years sacrificing everything for. He hadn’t truly looked at her in years. The realization wasn’t new, but it hit differently now.

She laughed softly, the sound catching Adam’s attention.

“What’s funny?” He asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Just… ironic, I guess.”

He tilted his head, clearly puzzled, but didn’t press. Instead, he stood, grabbing his plate and carrying it to the sink.

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need,” he said absently, already walking out of the kitchen.

Amelia watched him go, the hollow ache in her chest replaced by a strange sense of peace. The papers were signed. Her decision was final.

As she folded the signed agreement and tucked it back into her bag, she felt lighter.

Her lips quirked into a small smile. Letting go wasn’t as painful as she’d thought it would be.