Breaking My Seven Years Relationship with the Alpha

Panic gripped me when I thought Theo had seen me. My breath caught in my throat, and I quickly turned away, pretending to adjust my scarf.

The thought of him seeing me like this—tired, defeated, and teetering on the edge of tears—was unbearable. But as I stole a glance through the corner of my eye, I realized my panic was unfounded. He hadn’t noticed me at all.

Instead, Theo merely shrugged, his attention fixed on Beatrice as they moved toward another store. She said something, and he laughed, the sound stabbing through me like a blade.

I released the breath I’d been holding, my shoulders slumping. He didn’t see me. He never did anymore.

When my coffee arrived, I stirred it absently, watching the ripples spread across the surface. My thoughts drifted back to a time when Theo had been my world. Back then, he was everything—charming, attentive, and utterly devoted.

I had sacrificed so much for him: my title as the heir to the Southern territory, my family’s approval, and the life I had known. All of it gone, left behind for a love that now felt like it had been built on sand.

The Theo I knew was gone, replaced by someone I could barely recognize. Or was it me? Was it my heart that no longer saw him the same way? The bond we once shared felt like a distant echo, a shadow of what it used to be.

A tear welled up, but I quickly blinked it away as the café door chimed.

“Astraia,” a familiar voice called gently.

I looked up to see Aunt Aunt Veron, her sharp eyes immediately flicking from my face to the window, where Theo and Beatrice lingered, still laughing as they examined something at a stall. Aunt Veron’s lips pressed into a thin line before she turned her attention back to me.

“What’s wrong, star?” she asked softly, sliding into the seat across from me.

I shook my head, forcing a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.” My voice wavered despite my efforts to sound steady.

Her brows knitted together, and her tone turned brisk. “Nonsense. You’ve always been strong, Astraia, but even the strongest need someone to lean on. Now, let’s focus on something better, shall we?”

Her warmth was a balm to my aching heart. Aunt Veron always had a way of knowing exactly when I needed her most.

Over the next hour, her lively chatter began to pull me from the dark corners of my mind. She talked about the Southern territory, her excitement bubbling as she described the preparations for my return to Lunaris.

“Everyone’s thrilled to have you back,” Aunt Veron said, her eyes sparkling. “You’ve been away far too long, and trust me, they’ll welcome you with open arms.”

I managed a small, genuine smile as she pulled out her phone.

“Hold still,” she said, raising the camera. “Let me capture this moment.”

I laughed softly, trying my best to relax. Aunt Veron snapped a photo and inspected it with a satisfied nod.

“Perfect,” she declared, her fingers flying over the screen. A moment later, she held it out to me, showing me the post she had just uploaded:

"Someone’s going home ."

A chuckle escaped me, light and unforced. For the first time that day, a flicker of hope stirred within me.

Maybe this was what I needed—a fresh start, far from Vermora City and all the pain it held.

Aunt Veron reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “This is just the beginning, Astraia. You have so much ahead of you, more than you can imagine.”