Quitting On You After Being Cheated On

The night was colder than usual in Werewolf City, a place where werewolves such as myself could pretend to be normal human beings. I had just finished my shift at work and was ready to head home.

The streets were quiet, but I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature, so my instincts immediately told me that something felt off. As I walked, I heard rustling in the shadows.

Before I could react, a huge wolf lunged at me. It was wild and snarling, its eyes glowing with primal rage. I fumbled for my phone, desperate to call Samuel. I hit speed dial, but no answer. Panic surged through me. I had seen enough rogue attacks to know how this could end.

Since I was completely alone, I knew that I had no other choice but to fight. I grabbed a nearby trash can lid, my only defense, to buy myself time to shift to my wolf form. I swung the lid, just as he was about to land on me, and since the wolf was massive, the contact felt weak.

It didn't do much to stop the rouge, so my heart raced as it lunged again. I managed to hit it the second time, but it only seemed to anger the creature more. It knocked me to the ground, pain shooting through my side.

Reacting quickly, I tried shifting to be able to defend myself more. Soon, I was having a vicious battle with the massive werewolf. It kept swinging and slashing at me, throwing me everywhere, so I thought I wouldn't make it. I wanted to yell for help, but I was too preoccupied trying to survive.

Then, I saw them. A group of my friends, fellow werewolves, rushed toward us. They shouted, their voices fierce and commanding. The wolf hesitated, sensing them. They quickly surrounded the rogue beast, forcing it back. Relief washed over me as the threat disappeared into the night. But the pain didn’t fade.

I woke up in the werewolf hospital. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air. I could barely move.

"How are you feeling?" the doctor asked, as he checked my vitals. I tried to smile, but the pain made it hard.

"I think I'm going to make it," I answered, wanting to act tough.

"Yes, you're going to make it. You sustained a lot of injuries and deep wounds, but you’re going to be okay since your healing abilities are kicking in," he said.

Then she paused, looking at my chart. "There’s something else. You’re pregnant."

My heart stopped. The shock of it hit me harder than the attack earlier. I had just faced death, and now I was facing something new.

My eyes widened at the thought, wondering how it was even possible since Samuel and I weren't mates.

"What?" I whispered, disbelief and worry mixing in my expression.

I felt a wave of emotions crash over me. A new life was growing inside me. But fear crept back. I unconsciously placed my hand over my stomach, asking myself 'What would this mean for us, for the baby?'

As I stared at the doctor, waiting for him to explain, I couldn't help but feel anxious. For a moment, he looked as if he felt sorry for me. "Miss Ashwood, I'm sorry to say this, but due to your injuries, the baby didn’t make it."

Suddenly, the weight of that loss crashed over me like a tidal wave. I felt hollow, like a shell washed ashore. And then, the thought of Samuel hit me like a jolt. He needed to know. I wanted to share everything—the hope I felt, the dreams I had, now all gone.

For the final time, I tried reaching Samuel, but like before, he wasn't answering my call. I had no choice but to wait until the doctor had finally allowed me to go home, and as I stepped into the waiting area, my heart sank.

There he was, laughing with Samantha Grey, a new coworker. The way they interacted stung. It was as if my pain was invisible, and here he was, flirting like nothing had ever happened to me. Flirting, while I had to face the loss on my own when he was just nearby. I wanted to scream, to run to him, but I felt paralyzed.

I turned away, my heart aching. I couldn't bear to watch anymore. Leaving the hospital felt like escaping a nightmare, but I was heading into another. I wanted to believe he would notice my absence, that he would come looking for me, but deep down, I knew. He didn't care what I did. The thought twisted inside me like a knife.

When I finally got home, I felt empty. I sat on the edge of our bed, the silence pressing down. Memories of us flooded my mind—laughter, late-night talks, dreams shared. Now, it felt like a cruel joke. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold onto something real. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw him with her. The laughter, the connection. It was too much to bear.

I took a deep breath. I needed to find my path now. I couldn't hold onto the image of what we had. I had to focus on healing and on moving forward. No more waiting for someone who wasn't waiting for me. I had to reclaim my life, one step at a time.