That night in the pack house, I was in the kitchen, finishing up dinner for Osmond and Elvie. She was lounging on the couch like she owned the place, flipping through her phone while Osmond’s favorite show played on the TV. I could hear her occasional giggles drifting in, each one grating on my nerves.

I tried to ignore it, focusing on the food instead. The smell of roasted chicken and herbs filled the air, but it didn’t feel comforting. Not with Elvie here.

The front door creaked open, and Osmond walked in, tossing a stack of papers onto the counter like they were nothing. “Hey,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just spent the day God-knows-where with her.

I glanced at the papers. The bold letters at the top read 'Wedding Invitation'. My stomach twisted.

Osmond tapped the stack with his fingers. “Look, Camille, we’re not doing this wedding with your family in the picture. I don’t have time for that drama. This is OUR day, so it’s gonna be a pack-only thing. Got it?”

I didn’t respond right away. His words hit harder than I expected. His tone was so matter-of-fact, like he was negotiating a business deal, not planning the most important day of our lives.

I swallowed, keeping my voice steady. “Fine,” I said after a long pause. “We’ll move the wedding up. Three days from now, right?”

Osmond’s eyes lit up, but not with excitement. It felt more like relief, like he’d just checked off a to-do list. “Exactly. No need for extra fuss. You’ll have your pack there, and we can call it done.”

“And my family?” I asked quietly, already knowing what he’d say.

His smile was thin and dismissive. “Better they stay out of it. The pack’s what matters now. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”

Elvie stretched lazily on the couch, chiming in with her syrupy tone. “He’s right, Camille. Family can be so… complicated. Besides, this way, you don’t have to worry about impressing anyone.”

I swallowed my frustration, forcing myself to turn back to the stove. The chicken was nearly done.

Osmond leaned against the counter, watching me with a frown. “You’re acting weird, Camille. What’s going on with you? This isn’t like you.”

I wanted to laugh at that. Of course, it wasn’t like me. The person I’d been—the one who trusted him, who believed in him—was gone. He just hadn’t noticed.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I muttered, stirring the vegetables. “I’m fine.”

Elvie piped up again, smiling sweetly. “She’s probably just stressed. You know how weddings are. You’re supposed to be comforting her, not making it worse.”

“Comfort her?” Osmond snorted. “I’m not her therapist. I’ve got enough going on already.”

“Uh-huh,” Elvie said, smirking. “Wouldn’t want her backing out, though. That’d be a disaster for you.”

The words froze me in place. Back out? I hadn’t even considered it. But now, the thought sank in, heavy and cold.

Osmond laughed bitterly. “Back out? Seriously? Camille, you’re almost thirty. Who else is gonna marry you? You should be *thankful* it’s me.”

The sting of his words felt like a slap, but I kept my face neutral. “Thanks, Osmond,” I said flatly, barely above a whisper. “I’ll remember that.”

Elvie giggled from the couch, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You really should. A guy like Osmond doesn’t come around every day. You’re lucky, Camille.”

I bit my tongue, holding back the retort bubbling inside me. Instead, I plated the food in silence, placing it on the table.

Osmond barely glanced at it. “Actually,” he said, grabbing his coat, “we’re heading to Elvie’s place. She offered to cook tonight.”

“Yeah,” Elvie said, sliding off the couch and grabbing her purse. “You don’t mind, do you? Your food’s… nice, but I’m craving something different.”

I clenched my jaw but didn’t say a word. Osmond didn’t even bother looking at me before walking out the door with her.

As soon as they left, I went to my room and grabbed a suitcase. I didn’t cry, didn’t scream. I just started packing. Clothes, shoes, a few personal things. Six years with Osmond, and all I had to show for it were a few boxes of belongings and memories I was ready to leave behind.

That night, I slept alone in the pack house. No calls. No texts from Osmond. Just silence.

By morning, the courier arrived to pick up the boxes. I handed them over, feeling a strange sense of relief as he drove off. It was like a weight had been lifted, even if I wasn’t ready to admit why.

But just as I was about to lock the door behind me, Osmond burst in, panic all over his face. “What’s going on with all the boxes? What are you doing?”

I barely glanced at him. “Just sending some things to my parents. No big deal.”

He opened his mouth, about to argue, but his phone buzzed. Without thinking, he glanced at the notification.

I knew it was from Elvie. She’d posted just minutes earlier, hinting at a wild two-day hunting trip for Osmond before he ‘settled down.’ A celebration of his ‘last days of freedom,’ with her planning the whole thing.

After two days of Osmond and Elvie together in the forest hunting, I didn’t mind. It was the same as always. But today, my wedding day, everything felt different.

The sun was high, but the mansion felt oddly dark. The wedding day had arrived, but the air was thick with tension. There was no warmth, no joy, just this suffocating quiet between us. Everything felt wrong—no decorations, no family, no friends. It was like we were just going through the motions.

When I showed up in my simple white dress, Osmond and Elvie were already there, chatting with a few pack members who’d come out of duty, not because they actually cared.

No one seemed excited about the wedding—least of all Osmond, who had his back to me, talking away to some pack mates. I expected something grand, something special, but instead, I felt like an outsider in my own wedding.

“Camille,” Osmond called when he noticed me. His tone was flat, not even a hint of excitement. “You’re early. You know it’s not starting for another hour, right?”

“I’m ready. Let’s just get this over with,” I said, my voice deadpan. He looked a bit surprised, but didn’t press it.

I glanced around at the guests—most of them strangers to me, people who came because they had to.

The pack members were off to the side, laughing and whispering, while Elvie sat at the head of the table, looking like she owned the whole event.

The old me would’ve tried harder to win everyone’s approval. I would’ve smiled through the awkwardness, pretended like everything was fine. But not today. If Osmond wanted to marry me like this, with his pack over my family, then fine. I wasn’t going to waste another second trying to please anyone.

Osmond walked over, eyeing my dress with an almost disappointed look. “I thought you’d go for something... fancier. You know, for a wedding.” He said it like I’d broken some unwritten rule.

“I didn’t realize the dress was supposed to make or break our marriage,” I shot back, keeping my voice steady.

Before he could reply, Elvie chimed in from the side, all sweetness. “You look beautiful, Camille!” she said, but her smile was as fake as ever.

I nodded, stiffly, not bothering to engage. My gaze shifted to Osmond as he walked away, chatting with more people, giving me only the barest attention. It was clear I was just a footnote in his world.

After a while, Osmond called everyone outside for the ceremony. I followed the crowd, feeling like I was walking to my own execution. The lawn, the trees—it should’ve been peaceful, but instead, it felt like a stage for a drama I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of.

A few minutes later, the ceremony started. There were no formal vows, no rituals to signify the bond we were supposed to be sharing. Just an awkward exchange of ‘I dos,’ as if we were ticking boxes. Osmond grabbed the microphone, scanning the crowd, and then he started. His voice was steady but had this weird, familiar edge to it—almost like he didn’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“And I, Osmond, promise to always cherish and protect…” His words faltered for a second, and then I heard it. A slip of the tongue. “... Elvie.”

I felt my stomach drop. But instead of letting the tears come, I smiled. A bitter, small smile.

I walked to the front, heart pounding, and pulled the ring off my finger. Without saying a word, I walked straight to Elvie, who was standing there with a smug look on her face.

Osmond rushed toward me, his face twisting in confusion and anger. “Camille, what are you doing?”

I stopped just in front of Elvie, the space between us now symbolic of everything that had been left unsaid. I held the ring out to her, dropping it into her waiting hand. “This ring was always a bit loose,” I said softly. “Guess it was never really meant for me.”

Osmond’s face turned red, his anger bubbling over. “What the hell are you talking about?” He glanced between me and Elvie, his eyes wide. “Camille, you’re making a scene. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

But I wasn’t looking at him anymore. I was done.

I turned to Elvie, my words sharp. “You two are perfect for each other. I hope you both find happiness. You’ve earned it—at my expense.”

The crowd gasped, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Osmond snatched the ring back from Elvie’s hand, his face beet red.

“Are you out of your mind, Camille?” he yelled. “You’re ruining everything!”

“Ruining everything?” I repeated, my voice calm despite the rage swirling inside me. “I’m not the one who’s been playing with people’s lives. If this is what you want, fine. You two can have each other!”

Elvie stepped forward, putting on a fake concerned face. “Camille, listen to him. There’s nothing between Osmond and me. You're just being dramatic! Don’t throw everything away like this. Don’t you want to be happy?”

Her words were dripping with fake sympathy. I could see right through it, and it made me sick. But this time, I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t going to let her manipulate me anymore. With a quick swipe on my phone, the photos flashed across the large screen set up for the wedding. The crowd froze.

There they were—Elvie and Osmond, taken during her so-called “last day of freedom.” The photos were intimate, their bodies pressed close together in the dark of the forest, their hands tangled in each other’s hair, faces full of longing, of something far more than just friendship.

And as Elvie’s face turned bright red, I finally felt something I hadn’t in a long time: power.