Emilio can’t look you in the eye. He’s picking at his thumb instead.

“We should breakup,” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound like his. The words make his tongue numb. This is for your own good, he reminds himself. He’s doing this for you.

Being a beta never bothered him. He prefers living life without the drama of being an alpha or omega. Even when he met you—the prettiest omega he’d ever seen—he didn’t care that he was a beta. You love him and that’s enough.

It was enough.

“You won’t end this, so I will.” He can’t look around the apartment you share. The moment he sees the pictures on the walls, looks at the plants you bought together, he’ll take everything back. “I want you to be happy.”

And maybe you will with him. Eventually, though, you’ll regret it. Emilio knows how strong the pull of a fated mate is, and you’ve met yours.

It happened a few weeks ago. Emilio had taken you on a picnic, a ring in his pocket, but you’d been staring off at someone else. An alpha. He could see the instant connection. His parents were fated mates, he knows how strong that love is. The alpha had came up to you, introduced herself as Mi-Sun. Emilio couldn’t bring himself to remind you he was there. You didn’t look at him again until Mi-Sun was gone. Why would you? It’s easy to act like he doesn’t care.

He won’t stand in your way. As much as it feels like his heart is being gouged out, he wants to see you at your happiest. So he’ll keep that ring in a box by his bedside dresser and let it collect dust.