Dean was a fan of spicy food, but I wasn’t.

For six years, I’d always tried to accommodate him, joining him in eating fiery dishes. But this time, as we were having a barbecue, my stomach started acting up. Despite this, Dean ordered spicy pulled pork for Lucia without a second thought.

"Lucia and I live for spice, Jessica. Can you just go along with it this once more?"

I glanced at the slices of meat in my bowl, dripping with spicy marinade, causing my stomach to churn uncomfortably. My eyes shifted to his, which were fervently fixed on Lucia, the high-ranking Gamma of the Crimson Fang Pack. Suddenly, I couldn’t fake it anymore.

"Dean, I can’t eat spicy food, and I don’t like it."

As soon as I said it, Dean stopped, his hand frozen mid-air as he reached out to serve Lucia. The smile on Lucia’s face disappeared, and silence settled over us, broken only by the sizzle of the grill. Dean was momentarily caught off guard. After a while, he silently put down his fork, his brow slightly furrowed.

"Jessica Martin," he said sharply, using my full name, which he did only when angered. "We’re having a meal, what’s with the drama?"

I deliberately locked eyes with his, almost daring him to lash out. I half-wished for him to blow up, to argue with me, even to suggest we break the mate bond. Then I’d be free from the endless compromises.

However, Lucia, sitting beside us, gracefully stepped in to diffuse the situation. "It’s fine, it’s just a matter of changing the dish. You should’ve considered Jessica’s preference when ordering. Being a guest doesn’t mean everything should cater to my taste."

Earlier that day, after eating too much spicy food, my stomach had acted up. I dragged Dean with me to the pack healer. After getting some medication and hearing the healer’s advice to avoid spicy food, we left. Coincidentally, we bumped into Lucia picking up medicine for her mother outside the infirmary.

And so, we three found ourselves at the barbecue restaurant. When ordering, I took a quick trip to the restroom. Dean ordered everything, including extra spicy pork, without consulting me. When I returned, he said, "Lucia and I are on the same page; we can’t enjoy a meal without chili. Jessica, can’t you just accommodate us?"

I looked at the bright red marinade and the spread of Lucia’s favorite dishes. Rubbing my mildly aching stomach, I felt trapped in silence. Compromise was my forte, and this was no exception. Lucia, with her characteristic tact, browsed the menu and asked me kindly, "Jessica, let’s switch to something milder. Would you prefer plain ribs or tomato glaze?"

Lucia had been someone Dean admired back in school—a senior he once had a crush on. They never dated because Lucia, a Gamma, wasn’t into dating someone of lower rank. She was always so elegant and composed, naturally captivating Dean’s attention. Meanwhile, I, an Omega, had to constantly compromise and downplay myself just to win a fraction of his affection. In her presence, I perpetually felt inadequate.

I unclenched my fists, ready to speak, when Dean impatiently snatched the menu from me. "She’ll have the plain ribs."

The plain ribs were promptly brought out. Dean, as if rebellious, ignored me completely and stopped serving me food. Instead, he piled Lucia’s plate high with meat and vegetables. In the past, I was always the one yielding to him, soothing him. Now the tables had turned, and he was showing his irritation.

The grill sizzled and steamed, the heat wafting toward my face, yet my heart felt oppressively still. Dean and Lucia sat across from me, intentionally acting as if I wasn’t there, absorbed in their chatter. All I had was the steaming heat, boiling and irritating my mind.

I fiddled with my fork in my bowl, suppressing the frustration that had finally reached its peak. Setting down my fork, I stood up.

"I’m not hungry. I’m heading out."

"Enjoy the rest of your time," Dean said dismissively, not even looking up from his conversation with Lucia.

I walked out of the restaurant, the cool night air hitting my face as I left behind the suffocating atmosphere. My wolf stirred within me, a quiet whimper of pain echoing in my mind. It was time to stop pretending. Time to stop compromising. I was done.

As I stood to leave, Dean’s chair scraped against the floor as he jumped to his feet.

“Jessica!” His voice was loud, urgent, and laced with a tone that made my instincts as an Omega twinge. The other pack members in the restaurant turned their heads, their curiosity prickling the air like static. I paused for a moment, my heart pounding, but I forced myself to keep walking toward the door.

When I pushed it open, the rain was already pouring down in sheets, drenching the streets of our pack’s territory. Dean had the only umbrella. I hesitated, weighing whether to brave the storm or wait, but the thought of standing there like a helpless pup made me cringe.

Before I could decide, Dean was beside me, his hand gripping my arm with a firmness that was both familiar and irritating.

“Jessica, you puzzle me.” His brow furrowed in frustration and confusion, but there was no softness in his voice, no trace of the tenderness that once made me feel safe. Behind him stood Lucia, her posture elegant and her smile gentle, as if she were the Luna of this moment.

“Jessica, don’t be upset. Forget about the stew. I’ll have Dean take you home first, then you two can talk things over.” Her voice was calm, almost soothing, but her eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes—betrayed a smug pride that made my stomach churn.

Dean let go of my arm and turned to Lucia, his concern for her evident even in the way he leaned toward her. “What do you mean, take her home first? It’s pouring out here, and you don’t have an umbrella. How will you get back?”

His words were like a slap. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, a quiet reminder of the bond that still lingered between us, frayed and fragile but not yet broken.

After a moment of hesitation, Dean turned back to me, his expression torn. “Jessica, please understand. Lucia isn’t well, and she can’t get soaked. I’ll drive her home first and come back for you.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening as I watched my mate—my former mate—gently guide another woman under the umbrella, shielding her from the rain. They walked away together, their silhouettes blurred by the downpour. Lucia’s head tilted slightly toward him, her movements graceful and deliberate.

I stood there, the rain soaking through my clothes, my mind reeling. Lucia couldn’t get wet because of her health, but was I supposed to stand there like a fool, waiting for Dean to remember me? This time, I refused to wait. I turned back into the restaurant and borrowed an old umbrella from the owner, a kind elder who gave me a sympathetic look but didn’t say a word.

As I stepped back into the rain, the scene felt eerily familiar. It had happened before—Dean asking me to wait, promising to come back, only to forget me entirely. Last time, I had stood in the storm, my loyalty to him outweighing my own discomfort. But now, the thought of repeating that mistake made my wolf growl softly in protest.

Making the same mistake once might be forgivable. Repeating it? That was just foolish. I tightened my grip on the umbrella and walked away, the rain masking the tears that threatened to fall. Dean might have been my mate once, but I wasn’t his to command anymore.

After I got home and showered, drying my wet hair, Dean finally returned, soaked through. The bottoms of his pants were drenched from the rain, and as soon as he saw me, he slammed his umbrella down, glaring at me with the kind of authority that only a Beta could wield. His aura, usually calm and composed, was now sharp and impatient, pressing against me like a weight.

“Jessica, are you messing with me? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you? It was pouring rain, and I kept looking for you everywhere! I even thought you…”

I calmly set my towel aside and picked up his umbrella, putting it away. “It’s just a bit of rain; why are you making such a fuss? Don’t forget, two weeks ago, you left me standing in the rain for two whole hours.”

Dean stood there, his broad shoulders stiffening as he clenched his fists. His dark eyes, usually so commanding, now flickered with frustration. The sweet aroma wafted from the kitchen—the spiced honey tea was almost ready. Without further comment to him, I went into the kitchen, poured some into a mug, and sat at the dining table, sipping slowly. Spiced honey tea is good for the stomach; I should drink more.

Dean frowned, his jaw tightening. “I’ve told you, I can’t stand ginger.”

“But I do.” I looked up and smiled, though my wolf stirred uneasily in the back of my mind, sensing the tension.

Dean doesn’t like ginger, cilantro, or scallions—my all-time favorites. To me, these are essential for bringing flavor to any dish, and without them, something always seems lacking. Changing someone’s habits isn’t easy, especially when it means going against their innate preferences. Yet since we started dating, I stopped adding these to any meal, always deferring to his tastes as a Beta should.

After I spoke up, Dean was visibly unhappy. He sat irritably on the sofa, his large frame taking up most of the space, and repeatedly flicked his lighter open and shut. When he’s worked up, he unconsciously fiddles with it, and the clicking sound filled the room, sharp and unnerving.

“Jessica, what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting strange since the hot pot dinner. Is it just because I didn’t consider you and chose a spicy one?”

Is it because of the spicy hot pot? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I’ve been compromising for so long, constantly giving up, and suddenly, I’m just tired. I’ve unexpectedly felt the urge to end this relationship, though my wolf whimpered softly, tugging at the bond that still lingered between us.

“Gamma Lucia is moving abroad for good. This is her last visit back and she won't be staying long. She poses no threat to our relationship. She’s an old friend, and I was just helping her out, asking you to make allowances for her. What’s the big deal? Why do you have to make everyone unhappy?”

Am I the one causing unhappiness with my unreasonable behavior? But when I’m silent, when I’m compromising, who cares about my sadness? Why must it always be me who sacrifices for the happiness of others? I felt my wolf growl faintly, a rare moment of defiance, but I pushed it down, unwilling to let it surface.

Dean’s tone softened slightly, though his aura remained heavy. “You know how it is, Jessica. As a Beta, I have responsibilities. Gamma Lucia is important to the pack, and I can’t just ignore her. But you’re my mate. You should understand that.”

I looked at him, my heart aching as the bond between us pulsed faintly, a reminder of what we once had. But I couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. “I do understand, Dean. I’ve always understood. But understanding doesn’t mean I have to keep sacrificing myself.”

He stared at me, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he sighed, running a hand through his damp hair, and looked away. The silence between us was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved pain.