The Bride He Forgot to Love

"Don’t be too hard on Osmond," my mom said softly, her voice thin but full of love as she adjusted her scarf by the door. "He’s a Beta. Being busy just comes with the job. You’re marrying him soon, Camille. Relationships are about compromise."

I stayed quiet, hands clasped in front of me, biting back the urge to argue. She always talked about compromise like it was the only thing holding a relationship together.

Her figure looked smaller than ever—thin and fragile—her hands shaking a little as she fixed her scarf again. "Call me when you get home, okay? And don’t skip meals. You’ve got a lot going on, but I know you’ll handle it."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Just two weeks ago, we got the news—stage six lung cancer. It was like the world had shifted overnight, leaving us scrambling to hold on. She wanted to come meet Osmond before things got worse, but he barely spared her five minutes.

“I’ll visit soon,” I said, forcing a smile. We both knew it wasn’t true. Between her health and Osmond’s growing distance, I felt like I was being pulled apart at the seams.

As her car disappeared down the winding forest road, I stood there, letting the tears fall. I hated feeling this helpless.

By the time I got back to the house, the sun was already setting. Inside, the living room was dark, except for the soft glow of Osmond’s laptop. He was sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling like he had all the time in the world.

“Hey,” I said quietly, setting my bag down.

“Hey,” he mumbled, not even looking up.

I waited for him to ask about my mom or my day. He didn’t. Instead, he laughed at something on his phone.

“Work rough today?” I tried again, my voice sharper this time.

“Exhausting,” he said flatly, not even bothering to elaborate.

I sighed, heading toward the kitchen. As I passed by, I caught a glimpse of his phone screen—he was scrolling through photos of Elvie. My stomach twisted.

“Are you serious?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Osmond looked up, startled. “What?”

“Elvie?” I gestured at his phone. “You’re looking at her pictures again?”

“She’s just a friend,” he said, too quickly. “And don’t snoop on my phone. That’s crossing a line, Camille.”

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “A line? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he snapped, his tone defensive. “She’s part of the pack. It’s normal to talk to packmates. Stop making everything into a big deal.”

“Right,” I muttered, turning to the kitchen before I said something I’d regret.

I started unpacking the groceries, trying to focus on the mundane task. Then his voice broke the silence.

“Your parents left?”

I froze for a second, then went back to unpacking. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me they were leaving today?”

“I did,” I spin around to glare at him. “I told you they were leaving at two. But you were busy. Again!”

He flinched but quickly brushed it off. “I have responsibilities, Camille. Beta work doesn’t wait for anyone.”

“And neither does life,” I shot back.

His jaw tightened. “Why are you making this such a big deal? I can’t just drop everything because your parents were visiting. You know what my role means.”

“Do I?” I said, my voice rising. “Because it seems like being a Beta means you have time for everyone else but me.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his tone icy.

“Fair?” I threw the dish towel onto the counter. “You couldn’t even spare five minutes to see my mom, Osmond. She’s sick. She might not—” I cut myself off, choking on the words.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, frowning.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him. Not when he didn’t even seem to care. “Forget it,” I muttered.

As I turned back to the groceries, his phone buzzed on the counter. The name lit up the screen: Elvie

Osmond grabbed it quickly, but I saw the message: “Missed you today. Let’s talk soon?”