Page 45 of Knot My Only Fan

He doesn’t reply, so I push on the door and step inside, my eyes searching before I freeze.

The room is empty. Not even his toothbrush is on the counter.

I take ages to grasp what this means. When it finally sinks in, I’m so crushed with sadness that a sob leaves my mouth. He never wanted me.

Another sob.

And another. Then a high-pitched sound leaves my mouth as I blink back the tears. Still not believing what I’m seeing.

I drop to my hands and knees, and blubber, tears dropping onto the tiled floor into a puddle.

After a few minutes, I turn, sit on my ass, and wrap my arms around my aching stomach. I rest my head on my knees, trying to remember what I did wrong.

He warned you.

Now I know what he meant when he told me not to catch feelings. But why did he make me believe he wanted me—when he didn’t?

“Why were you so stupid, Grace?” I whisper. “He never wanted you... Only your heat.”

I should have agreed to the other alpha, who offered me a fortune. At least I would be richer and closer to my dream. I gave Henry my heat and got nothing but a cold bed and a sick heart that I never thought could be broken.

I should have remembered.

He told me his career was the only important thing in his life.

He told me he doesn’t date anyone.

He told me he was never falling in love with anyone.

And I don’t want to be an omega.

This is for the best.

It doesn’t feel like it’s for the best at the moment as more silent sobs wreck through my body.

I’m trying to hold it together as I crawl out of the bathroom. And when I reach the bed, I drag myself up, wanting so desperately to lie on the mattress and fall asleep, but I need my mom right now.

I need to feel loved.

I need her to hug me.

I know I’ll feel stronger when she holds me.

“I need the implant. Only then will I forget him,” I insist to myself. “Omegas are pathetic.”

After packing my suitcase, I glance around the room once more before I open the door and stride to the elevator, dragging the suitcase behind me.

As the door closes, I stare at the room once more. Tears prick my eyes as I remember what this was.

A few perfect nights. He never promised me more than that.

Why did he tell me I was his?

By the time the elevator doors open, tears roll down my face again, stinging against my cheeks. Not wanting my mom to see me this way, I bite my lip to stop them, but nothing blocks the flow.

I can still smell him. Raspberries coated in chocolate with a side of sweet marshmallow. I’m so pathetic it’s like his scent coats the inside of the elevator, along with another scent, that I can’t put my finger on. But together they are so delicious.

I stare ahead for a moment. Was there another man in my room?

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