Aya

My phone buzzed insistently.

Cliffe.

The moment I picked up, his voice came through, sharp and demanding. “Why are you giving all your stuff away? The maids at the pack house said they saw people packing your things.”

“Because they’re my things,” I replied coolly, barely keeping the edge out of my voice. “Do I owe you an inventory or an explanation for what I do with my belongings?”

“You’re being unreasonable,” he shot back, his tone clipped.

My grip tightened around the phone, anger surging through me, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Enjoy your trip with Evelyn,” I said evenly and hung up before he could respond.

When I returned to the cabin, I threw myself into packing the remnants of my life. Clothes too worn to donate were tossed into trash bags, and personal items I once cherished now felt meaningless. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I was dragging the last of the bags to the trash bin.

One by one, I erased every trace of myself from the cabin we had once shared. Every memory, every piece of me that lingered in this place, it all had to go.

This time, I vowed not to look back.

Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bare mattress, my body heavy with fatigue. Reaching for my phone out of habit, I was greeted by a flood of notifications. The tabloids were buzzing again… pictures of Cliffe and Evelyn, their smiles radiant as they stood together at the annual alphas’ gathering.

They looked perfect together, an undeniable match. The way they leaned into each other, their bright smiles, it screamed of a connection that I could never rival. And then it hit me like a blow to the chest.

I was the other woman.

My throat tightened, and my heart ached as I scrolled through the photos, each one more painful than the last. I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep torturing myself like this.

With trembling hands and a deep breath, I made my decision. One by one, I deleted every social media account I had. No more reminders. No more clinging to a past that had no place in my future.

To leave the past behind, I had to let it go completely.

Just seconds after logging out, my phone buzzed with multiple notifications from Evelyn. Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened them. My stomach churned as suggestive pictures of her and Cliffe filled the screen, their intimacy glaring in each shot.

I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding in disgust.

Her text followed moments later:

—*Will you be moved out before we return tomorrow?*

I stared at the screen, debating whether to respond. After a long pause, I typed back a curt:

—*Sure.*

Her reply came almost instantly:

—*Great! Such a good girl… I’ll be looking forward to it.*

I sneered, the acidic taste of fury rising in my throat. Evelyn had made a fatal mistake, she underestimated me.

I reached under my bed and pulled out my laptop, a secret I had kept even from Cliffe. My fingers flew across the keyboard as I accessed her phone. Retrieving the pictures she had smugly sent as "view once" was almost too easy.

I leaned back in my chair, my lips curving into a cold smile.

"My final gift to you, Evelyn," I murmured, saving the files in a folder labeled *Checkmate*.

Aya

When morning came, I ensured my room was stripped bare of every trace of myself. All that remained was a card containing the exact amount of money I had calculated Cliffe spent on me over the years and the photo album I couldn’t bring myself to destroy. The memories it held were beautiful, but they were no longer mine to cherish.

With a deep breath, I tore a page from my journal, scribbling the PIN for the card and a single phrase beneath it:

I genuinely wish you happiness.

I placed the card and note on the small table by the window, where he would be sure to find them.

Grabbing my bag, I walked out of the cabin without a second thought. As I reached the front steps, I turned to look at the pack house one last time. For years, it had been my sanctuary, a place that had once felt like home. Now, it was just a reminder of everything I had lost.

I straightened my shoulders, refusing to let sentimentality weaken my resolve. Without a final glance, I strode toward the waiting Uber parked by the front gate.

The curious gazes of pack members followed me, their whispers a low hum in the cold morning air. I ignored them all, keeping my head high, my steps steady.

This was my goodbye, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me.

Before boarding my plane, I sent the videos and pictures Evelyn had used to provoke me. I crafted my messages carefully:

To Cliffe, I attached the files with a simple note:

"You’ve made your choice."

To the media, I sent them anonymously, tagging them:

"They really can’t keep their hands off each other."

Not long after, messages and calls flooded in. But I just turned off the phone and closed my eyes.

The plane took off.

I was ready to embrace a better future, a hidden identity that nobody knew.