Tears rolled down my face.

My life was over.

I smoothed the crumpled bedsheet beside me, sniffing the last of his scent on the pillow he used. I closed my eyes tight as I tried hard not to sob. I could feel my throat swelling. My heart was racing. How could such a wonderful thing end so easily and then plummet to the brink of sadness and despair? What would I do after all that happened?

Even though my inner wolf was feeling awful, she made sure to hide deep within me so as not to add to my already heavy emotional load.

Sobs emerged from my throat. I embraced the soft cashmere blanket against my bruised skin. Every inch of me was aching. My eyes caught the blood stain on the bedsheet, making me shudder in pain. Not just physically. I thought my heart was already numb from all the heartbreaks I suffered while loving him. However, because of my own foolishness, the events that happened between me and him became a profound wake-up call.

He will never be yours, Giselle. I whispered inside my head. I had already exhausted all possibilities, leaving only the bitter truth I could taste at the back of my tongue.

I was never enough. I will never always be enough.

I bit my lower lip hard. I bit my lower lip so forcefully that I nearly tasted blood, causing a sudden surge of anger in my chest. It burned the miserable feeling in me and acted like gasoline that pumped throughout my veins, urging me to go out of bed and snatch all my clothes from the floor. In his room, I was totally alone. He left me without a word, and I thought it was okay. I thought it would be better if I didn’t have to see his face once I left his condo unit and disappeared from his life forever.

I put my clothes on with anger and shivering fingers, and I checked my face in the mirror first. My eyes were puffy red, and there were bruises visible on my arms and the right side of my neck. Last night was wild and intoxicating. Blissful and thrilling. But then morning came, and everything turned bleak and awful, and I just wanted to forget every bit of memory of it.

But it did happen. Every second of it was tattooed on my head, causing the tears to run freely down my pale cheeks. The delicious sound of his voice when he whimpered my name. His touch made me feel so delicate and weak. I felt like I was melting butter under his flawlessly sculpted body. He was so handsome. It was as if the gods had molded him into perfection, and no woman could ever resist the animal magnetism of that man!

I shut my eyes tight.

Well, perhaps not my sister, who had a stone for a heart. But it was aggravating that I was not exempted from being a crazy girl who fell in love with a man like him.

“Screw you, Caden!” I snarled under my shivering breath, then punched the mirror with all my strength, only to channel the pain away from my heart and down to the bleeding knuckles of my small hands.

I could feel the weight of the world falling on my shoulders.

***

[One month later.]

“No, Madelyn. I can’t go out tonight! I have to finish this project before the deadline, okay?” I kept my voice calm as I talked to my best friend, Madelyn, over the phone. I met her two years ago at an art viewing in one of the city's museums. She had been insisting on taking me out of the house since last week because, apparently, I now have a habit of imprisoning myself inside my small, old apartment full of canvasses, dirty paintbrushes, and tin cans of paint.

Yes. I sell paintings for a living.

“You have been sick for days, Giselle. You have to get out of your small den and breathe some fresh air, for goddess' sake! I am scared your brain has already melted with the fumes of those paint chemicals!”