Since her return, Lorenz had devoted himself to her, as if she were his chosen mate. For a full cycle, I watched him attend to her every need, lavishing time, attention, and resources, while I received only passing words and empty gestures.
A cycle ago, I opened my own gallery, a labor of my heart and soul. Lorenz did not appear. Not a single moment was spared. Instead, he sent a bouquet with a note so generic it felt like an obligation rather than a celebration.
Yet, when Emily needed him at the airport, he was there instantly. For her den, he arranged every detail, as if her life eclipsed mine entirely.
I felt like a ghost in my own pack, invisible to the mate I had pledged myself to.
My frustration finally boiled over as I followed him upstairs, voice trembling but firm.
“Why are you so cruel, Lorenz? When I held my gallery, you stayed away. When you fetched Emily from the airport, I said nothing. You poured your time and resources into her den. And now, on my graduation, you can’t even spare hours for me? Is it all because of Emily?”
He looked at me, slipping his communicator into his belt, a mix of irritation and disdain on his face.