288 Vouchers


    The phone kept buzzing on the nightstand, the screen lighting up the dark room every few seconds. I stayed still, my back to Ethan, eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. But I could feel the tension radiating off him.


    The phone buzzed again. This time with the soft chime of a video call request. I felt him shift beside me. Still, he didn’t pick it up.


    Finally, the sound of rapid, insistent text notifications cut through the darkness. One after another. It didn’t stop.


    I let out a slow, steady breath. “Aren’t you going to do something about that?”


    Ethan stiffened. He reached for the phone, and grabbed it off the table. For a second, he just held it, the screen glow- ing in his hand, before he hit the power button, shutting it offpletely.


    “It’s apany matter,” he muttered. “Go back to sleep.”


    I didn’t say anything. Just turned over, facing the wall, and closed my eyes, letting the quiet stretch between us.


    About an hourter, I heard the faint rustle of bedsheets. Ethan sat up, his movements careful, trying not to wake me. I heard him reach for his phone, the soft click of it powering back on, followed by his footsteps.


    The door creaked as he slipped out into the hallway. Although, he spoke so lowly that no one other than him would be able to hear it, but he forgot that I have werewolf sense of hearing.


    “Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay? Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”


    I opened my eyes, staring into the darkness. I didn’t realize that expecting anything from him would go down in drain.


    The door creaked open around 5 a.m. Ethan had returned from keeping her lover thepany. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep.


    He paused at the door, relieved that I still was asleep, and headed straight for the bathroom.


    A few minutester, he came back, andid down beside me. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. I felt his warm breath against my neck, and the weight of his arm. He must’ve been exhausted, because his breathing soon evened out, slipping into the deep, steady rhythm of sleep.


    I opened my eyes slowly.


    Carefully, I slipped his arm off my waist and sat up. I turned to look at him, his head tilted to the side, lips slightly parted. The early light hit his face, casting soft shadows over his jawline, his seductive Adam’s apple, and the sharp dip of his corbone.


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    And then I saw it.


    A faint, fresh hickey near his corbone. My hands tightened around the nket. For a split second, the urge to grab a pillow and press it down over his face nearly overwhelmed me. I could feel Yve bristling and growling, but I pushed her down, forcing myself to breathe.


    I got out of bed quietly, slipping out of the room before the rage bubbling in my chest could choke me.


    Downstairs, I put on an apron and started making breakfast. The steady sizzle of eggs in the pan, the warm, familiar smell of fresh toast – all of it felt painfully normal, almost surreal after the night I’d had.


    Footsteps on the stairs. I nced up as Ethan entered the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck, looking more rxed than he had any right to be.


    “Morning,” I said, my voice light. “Come sit. Breakfast is almost ready.”


    He looked a bit surprised, maybe even relieved, as he pulled out a chair and sat down. I brought the tes over, set- ting one in front of him before pouring two sses of orange juice.


    I sat down across from him, taking a slow sip of my juice. “There’s something I wanted to tell you.”


    He paused, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. “What is it?”


    “I want to resign from thepany.”


    He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What? Why?”


    I set my ss down, leaning back in my chair. “I’m just… exhausted. I think I’d like to take a break. Enjoy the care- free life of a Luna for a while. Maybe take up a hobby or two.”


    He frowned. “Are you serious?”


    I met his eyes, smiling. “Of course.”


    He set his fork down, leaning back in his chair, fingers tapping against the edge of the table. He looked thoughtful, maybe even a bit suspicious, but then his expression softened.


    “Alright,” he said, leaning forward again, picking up his fork. “Maybe you’re right. You should rest. Stay at home. Maybe we can even try for a child.”


    I forced my smile to stay in ce, though my stomach turned. A child? With him? While he yed with his sweet- heart behind my back? Over my dead body.


    I just kept smiling, while not even looking at him. I clearly wouldn’t want to express what I truly felt while taking an- other sip of juice to hide the bitterness in my tone.


    He smiled, clearly pleased, and continued eating.


    “I think I’ll start the resignation process this week,” I added, setting my ss down. “I’m also nning a trip. Maybe the Maldives. Ava said she’de with me.”


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    He paused mid-bite, frowning slightly. “Ava? Isn’t herw firm busy?”


    “She’s making time for me. I’m lucky to have her.”


    He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll have my assistant arrange the trip for you. Just rx and enjoy your- self.”


    I smiled, but my mind was already a thousand miles away.


    Over the next few days, I kept myself busy, moving my things to the new apartment, piece by piece. But he never no- ticed.


    One evening, while Ethan sat on the back porch, chuckling at his phone, I stood in the yard, a rusty iron barrel in front of me. I struck a match, the tiny me flickering in the wind, and tossed it into the barrel.


    A pile of old wedding photos burst into mes. I watched my own face burn, my eyes bright with the joy of a bride, his arm around me, his eyes filled with what I once thought was love.


    I looked up, catching Ethan’s profile through the sliding ss door, his face still lit up by his phone screen, a small, private smile on his lips.


    “Hey,” he called, finally noticing the smoke rising from the yard. “What are you burning out there?”


    I nced at him, and forced a bitter smile.


    “Nothing important,” I said, turning back to the barrel. “Just some… useless trash.”


    Ethan stood near the barrel, watching smoke curl up from the burned photo pieces. He looked at me like I was insane.


    “You could’ve just thrown it away,” he muttered.


    I didn’t bother exining. “Burning it would get rid of itpletely.”