"Small towns talk, dear," she says finally, but there's calculation in her voice now. "Patricia at the clinic is very friendly with my bridge club. We know all about your little... development."
My stomach drops. Of course. Of course Patricia told someone who told someone else and now it's spreading through Largo Waters like wildfire. By tonight, everyone will know. Everyone will be watching me, judging me, deciding what this means.
And Eleanor knows. Which means Callum probably knows. Or will know soon.
The fear is physical. My omega wants me to run, to hide, to find pack safety NOW.
"Listen to me carefully, Mrs. Whitmore." My voice comes out steadier than I feel, and maybe that's my omega giving me strength. Giving me the courage to stand up against a threat. "I did not have a mental breakdown. I made a choice to run from your son because staying with him was slowly killing me."
Silence.
"Furthermore, I'm not going to apologize for any of it. Not to Callum. Not to you. Not to the two hundred guests who came to watch me sign my life away to a man who thought he could control everything about me."
"Jessica..."
"And finally, if you ever call me again, spread my medical information around town, come anywhere near me, I will file harassment charges. The sheriff in Largo Waters is a family friend." Nacho's face flashes in my mind. His scent. Leather and rain and safety. "I'm sure he'd be very interested to hear about how you're using illegally obtained medical information to harass your son's ex-fiancée."
"You ungrateful little—"
I hang up before she can finish.
My hands are shaking violently now. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. The empty house feels too big, too quiet, too unsafe. My omega is in full panic mode, screaming for pack, for protection, for an alpha who can stand between me and threats.
But underneath the adrenaline and fear, there's pride.
I just told off Eleanor Whitmore. I just refused to be manipulated by the most manipulative woman I've ever met. I just stood up for myself in a way I haven't in two years.
My omega gave me that strength. Made me fierce when I needed to be.
Maybe there's hope for me yet.
My phone buzzes again. I flinch, expecting another attack, but this time the name on the screen makes something in my chest loosen.
Stacey Turner.
I answer immediately, desperate for a friendly voice in the emptiness.
"Please tell me you've seen it," Stacey says before I can even say hello. "Please tell me you've seen the absolute circus that is your ex-fiancé's Instagram."
"I've seen it." I settle back against my pillows, pulling my knees to my chest. "I've also seen the TikTok memes. Did you know I've been photoshopped escaping from Jurassic Park?"
"The one with the velociraptors? That's my favorite. You're running from the T-Rex in your wedding dress. It's art."
I laugh. The first one in what feels like forever, and my omega settles slightly at the sound of pack-adjacent friendship.
Stacey and I have been best friends since seventh grade, when she transferred to Largo Waters Middle School and I was the only person who didn't make fun of her braces. She's loud, chaotic, fiercely loyal, and currently engaged to three alphas she met at her sister's album launch party. Her life is a romance novel come to life.
"How are you doing?" she asks, her voice softening. "Really. Not the brave face version. The real version."
"I'm eating peanut butter in bed and watching my life become a meme. So, you know. Living the dream."
"Jess."
"I'm okay, Stacey. Really." I take a shaky breath. "I'm scared and confused and I have no idea what I'm doing. But I'm also relieved. And that feels weird because I should be devastated, right?"
"That's because you escaped a prison sentence disguised as a marriage." Stacey’s voice is firm. "I never liked Callum. You know that. From the first time you brought him home, there was something off about him."
"You could have told me."
