< The Alpha Who Never Loved Me
Chapter 25
Serena
He didn’t flinch.
He turned around slowly, his eyes finding mine across the room, and the look on his face wasn’t fear or shock or guilt.
It was indifference.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
My heart that had already been tearing apart suddenly stopped.
Was it that he did not actually care or was he just pretending?
Perhaps, to him, I was bluffing. To him, I loved this life so much I wouldn’t just throw it away.
I stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen.
I pulled the drawer open and grabbed the first kife my:15
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ring knife short bladed one
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< Chapter 25
that was mainly used for handing fruits.
When I turned around, Jenna was already crying. Her eyes were widened and her hands formed a cage around her mouth to muffle down her sobs.
“Kieran.” Her voice broke wide open. “Give her the phone. Just give it to her. Please.”
He didn’t move.
I walked back to the sofa and then I brought the blade to my left wrist and pressed the edge against my skin. The steel was cold and the sting was immediate, sharp enough to pull a gasp from my throat.
“I’ll do it.” My voice was hoarse, scorched with pain. “I’ll kill myself.”
Jenna was sobbing. “Serena, stop. Please stop. Put it down, please-”
The blade pressed deeper into my skin. I watched a thin line of red rise from my skin and trail down my palm, dripping onto the floor in heavy drops.
2/10
Jenna screamed.
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And Kieran stood there.
He looked at the blood on my hand, then at my face.
“Your life is your own.” His voice was steady. Unaffected by the sight in front of him. “If you want it to end this way, that’s up to you.”
I pressed my lips together so hard they went numb.
My eyes were clouded by tears, without waiting, they streamed down my face.
“You really wouldn’t stay.” I heard the words leave me. “You’d really let me bleed out in this kitchen and walk out the door to be with another woman.”
“If you kill yourself,” he said, putting his hands into his pockets. “the people who love you will be affected. Not anyone else.” His gaze held mine. “Especially not me.”
Not him.
He didn’t love me.
He didn’t care about me. He never did. I truly was just a 5 3/10
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placeholder for him. He really had forgotten the years we spent together just for his first love.
He truly was this kind of a man.
I pressed the knife down and dragged it across my wrist.
I pressed my teeth together, keeping myself from crying out in pain. The blood spilled fast, running down my forearm
and between my fingers and onto the floor.
“Serena!” Jenna’s scream filled the house.
She was running toward me, arms outstretched, but the room was already tilting.
The headache that had been pressing behind my skull all night exploded. My vision went dark and soon, I lost control of my body.
The last thing I was conscious of was the metal dropping
to the floor.
Lyoke up with the headache gone and a pain around my
wrist. The room was dark.
< Chapter 25
Wasn’t it morning?
I reached for the digital clock on my nightstand.
2:18am
It was just past two in the morning. I could recall what happened vividly. I glanced on the bandages around my throbbing wrist.
And in turn, caught the figure laying next to me.
It had ling light brown hair and a smaller frame compared to the person who used to sleep in the room.
Jenna.
She was curled on top of the covers, still in her clothes, her face swollen probably from crying.
I looked around the room. There was just pitch darkness save from the hallway light.
He wasn’t here.
Esat jip slowly. I swung my legs over the side of the bed
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and walked barefoot through the hallway, past the study,
I reached for the doorknob but after turning it was locked, and then I went down the stairs to the kitchen.
The floor had been cleaned. No blood, no knife, no evidence of what had happened except the bandage on my arm and the ache that lived deeper than my skin.
I poured myself a glass of water and drank it standing at the counter.
Then I set the glass down and stood there.
Cutting myself had not been a good plan. I actually never wanted to. When I grabbed the knife, I wanted to scare him. I wanted him to see how far he’d pushed me and for once, just once, choose me over whatever was on the other side of that phone.
But he’d been so nonchalant. So utterly unbothered. And in that moment, standing in the kitchen with blood on my hand and nothing in his eyes, I stopped wanting to scare him.
I just wanted it to stop.
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The pain, the hoping, the humiliation of loving a man who could watch me bleed and tell me my death wouldn’t affect him. I wanted to stop existing inside this marriage, inside this body that kept reaching for someone who was never going to reach back.
So I did it.
And he still left.
He didn’t stay to see if I was alive. He didn’t wait for the bleeding to stop or for the doctor to come. He handed me off to his sister and walked out the door to be with the
woman he loved.
That was the truth.
He didn’t love me.
He never did. Or if he did, it had died so long ago that nothing I could do, not crying, not screaming, not bleeding on his kitchen floor, would bring it back.
My actions could only mean something if the person watching them cared.
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Kieran didn’t care.
So the screaming was just noise. The tears were just water. The blood was just a mess someone had to clean up before it stained the tile.
I had been fooling myself. For five years, for ten, for as long as I could remember. Every fight, every tantrum, every desperate attempt to make him see me – all of it had been a performance for an audience of one, and he’d already left the theater.
Footsteps behind me.
“Serena?” Jenna’s voice was thick with sleep and worry. “What are you doing? Come back to bed.”
“I was thirsty.”
She lingered in the doorway, waiting for me to fall apart again. Waiting for the tears, the questions, the what did he say and where did he go.
I didn’t ask.
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brinsed the glass, set it on the counter, and walked past 16
her without another word.
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She followed me back to the bedroom. I climbed under the covers and closed my eyes.
Morning light was bright. Beside me, the space was
empty.
Jenna must’ve left early morning.
I got up, showered, and stood in front of the closet for a long time before choosing a long-sleeved dress. Dark fabric, fitted sleeves that came down to my wrists. The bandage was invisible beneath it.
The drive to St. Michael’s was quiet. I parked, walked through the east wing, hung my coat, washed my hands, and started on the sample inventory Gerald had left on
bench three.
I couldn’t make Kieran my whole personality anymore.
I had a job. I had a baby growing inside me. I had parents who loved me and a life that existed outside of the man who had looked at my blood on his kitchen floor and told
me it wouldn’t affect him.
$9+worked.
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Gerald corrected my labeling twice. Raymond brought coffee at nine and asked if I was okay because I looked tired. I told him I was fine and meant it more than I
expected to.
Around noon, I finally had a break and reached for my phone.
The screen was black. I hadn’t even noticed it had died.
I plugged it in at my desk and waited for it to power on.
When it did, the notifications flooded in. One after another after another, the screen filling with names and timestamps.
Trevor. Jenna. Kieran.
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