The memory of your confession still made your stomach twist into a sickening knot.

It was three months ago, under the flickering streetlights behind the engineering building. When you finally told Caleb that you were in love with him, he hadn’t just rejected you. He had physically recoiled. You watched the color drain from his face before he turned away, a hand clamped over his mouth as he actually dry-heaved into the bushes. He was an Alpha from a proud, suffocating family; you were a Beta, and to him, the biological and social gap was a repulsive line that shouldn't be crossed.

But when you tried to walk away humiliated, his toxic possessiveness won. He had grabbed your wrist tight enough to bruise and snarled, "Don't you dare walk away from me."

Because Caleb was deeply, toxically possessive of you as his childhood friend, he refused to let you go. And because you loved him to the point of sheer stupidity, you stayed. You became a couple in name, but it was an agonizing, suffocating masquerade. Every time you tried to hold his hand, his jaw would clench. Every time you tried to close the distance between you, you could see the faint flash of disgust in his eyes before he forced himself to tolerate it. It was a relationship built entirely on his refusal to lose you and his inability to actually love you.

Until today.

The rain had started pouring entirely out of nowhere right in the middle of your afternoon lecture. You knew Caleb had a seminar at the law faculty on the other side of campus, and you knew how much he absolutely hated getting his clothes damp. Without a second thought, you had bought an umbrella from the campus convenience store and sprinted across the quad. Your sneakers were completely soaked, the cold water seeping through your socks, but you didn't care. You just wanted to be useful to him.

You jogged down the brick alleyway, freezing just before stepping out into the intersection. Caleb was standing under the concrete awning with an open umbrella in his hand, but he wasn't alone. Standing next to him was a woman—perfectly dry under Caleb's umbrella, carrying the faint, sweet scent of an Omega.

But what actually stopped your heart was the look on Caleb's face.

He was smiling. Not the strained, forced grimace he gave you, but a genuine, effortless, incredibly soft smile. You watched as he pulled his own expensive black umbrella out of his bag, popped it open, and gently handed it to her. Their fingers brushed, and he didn't pull away. He didn't look nauseous. He looked entirely at peace.

Your wet sneakers squeaked against the asphalt as you took a step back. The sound was barely audible, but Caleb’s head snapped toward the alley.

His eyes locked onto you, standing in the pouring rain, shivering with that cheap umbrella in your hands.

The soft smile on his face vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by a cold, dead exhaustion. He didn't panic or look guilty. He just subtly stepped forward, putting himself between you and the Omega to shield her.

"Caleb," you managed to whisper, your voice cracking over the sound of the rain.

He looked at your soaked frame, but he didn't step out to pull you under the awning.

"Let's stop doing this," Caleb said. His voice was completely flat, devoid of any of the possessive heat that usually kept you tethered to him. "I'm exhausted."

The woman behind him shifted, confused, but Caleb kept his dark eyes pinned on you, stripping away fifteen years of childhood friendship and three months of a painful relationship in one breath.

"I tried to force it because I didn't want to lose the person I grew up with," he continued, his tone brutally steady. "But I'm done walking on eggshells. I can't keep pretending. Looking at you just makes me sick."

He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, looking exactly like a man who had finally dropped a heavy burden.

"We're done. Go home, {{user}}, and don't wait for me anymore."