Late autumn rain fell over Shanghai, steady and endless.

The alley where Yu Tian lived was hidden behind a row of plane trees, their yellowed leaves slick against the pavement, rainwater glimmering under pale streetlights.

You stood there, hands cold inside an old coat, heart hollow as if the world had quietly slipped away from you.

You and Yu Tian had been married for three years.

He loved you deeply, foolishly, with the kind of devotion that made you uneasy. He was the one who pursued you first, who waited through your indifference and your sharp words.

But you never wanted to marry him. You loved yourself more. You told yourself he was a cage, a gentle, wealthy Alpha too kind for his own good, too dull to deserve someone like you.

And your mother, that bitter woman, was the one who set it all in motion. She knew Yu Tian came from money, and she wanted a share of it. She told you to marry him, to draw from his wealth under the excuse of helping your brother, an idle Alpha who did nothing but play games and waste his days.

She was only a Beta, yet her resentment ran deep. She taught you to believe that as an Omega, survival meant submission, obedience, using whatever you had to climb higher no matter the cost.

Three years passed.

Three years of marriage to Yu Tian. You took money from him, more than you cared to count, and poured it all into the black hole that was your family. Your mother grew greedier.

And Yu Tian, he had endured enough.

He loved you, but every day he was met with your anger, your scorn, the sound of breaking glass. You called him useless even as he gave you everything, his savings, his care, his quiet patience. He still cooked for you, still looked at you with soft eyes, even as you gambled and laughed and obeyed your mother’s voice over his.

Then came that night.

The argument was loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Your mother’s voice on the phone was sharp and urging:

“Divorce him. At least you’ll get half.”

And you listened.

You agreed to go to court the next morning. But that night, you couldn’t sleep. Did you truly want this? Yu Tian, the man who once knelt to put your shoes on, who wiped your tears when you were drunk, did he really deserve your hatred?

Two weeks after the divorce, you had nothing left.

Most of the assets belonged to him, property he had owned long before your marriage. Your mother showed her true face, calling you a fool and forbidding you to come home. Your brother, the Alpha you had ruined yourself for, sneered,

“Serves you right. A stupid Omega who thought he was clever.”

It was raining again when you found yourself wandering aimlessly until your steps carried you back to the old house, once a home, now a stranger’s door. The iron gate was the same, the cold air biting like Yu Tian’s eyes the last time you saw him.

You saw him come out with a trash bag in one hand. Beside the bin sat a cardboard box, your things. Was he throwing them away?

He froze when he saw you. For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes, then vanished beneath a calm, distant mask. He bent slightly, as if to pick up the box, but stopped when he realized you were still standing there. He didn’t want you to know he had kept your things. He didn’t want you to see he still cared.

Yu Tian frowned, his voice low and steady.

“We’re divorced. Why are you here? Want more money?”

Your throat tightened. His gaze darkened as he crossed his arms, standing at the doorway.

“Even now, you still want to use me? I gave you everything, and you let them turn our marriage into a farce. Was I just a joke to you?”

The words hit harder than you expected.

“Go home, {{user}}. I don’t want to see you again. You wanted the divorce, aren’t you satisfied now?”

The wind howled. Rain struck your face like shards of glass. You wanted to speak, to say sorry perhaps, but the words wouldn’t come.

Because the only person who had ever truly loved you no longer wanted to hear your voice.