My Alpha Said Get Out—So I Did Chapter 09

My mother, Marianne, had been standing behind the door the entire time, listening to our conversation.

Every word out of Silas’s mouth made the fury in her eyes churn higher and higher.

Until I finished saying that line—”You’ve never once given me a birthday gift”—and she finally couldn’t hold back anymore.

She threw the door open.

She looked at Silas with a fierce expression, her voice as cold as ice.

“Silas Calder.

Do you even understand what love is?

You don’t even know what it means to like someone—so why should my daughter be with you?

I gave birth to her.

I raised her.

I cherished her as the most precious daughter of the Hart Family.

It wasn’t so you could trample all over her like this.

If you truly can’t learn how to love, then I suggest you never find a mate your whole life.

Don’t go bringing ruin upon someone else’s daughter.”

With that, she pulled me straight back inside the house and slammed the door shut, cutting Silas off completely.

I thought after things had been said to this point, he would finally understand—he shouldn’t come looking for me anymore.

But that very night, as I stood on my bedroom balcony, I suddenly saw the distant night sky light up.

Fireworks — even more dazzling than the ones in that video — bloomed one after another across the starry sky.

Silver.

Blue.

Rose gold.

They lit up the entire night of the Silverpine Pack.

I stared at that grand display of light, stunned for a moment.

The next second, an unfamiliar number called.

I picked up.

Silas’s voice came through the receiver, laced with a thread of tense caution.

“Weren’t you jealous that Tessa got fireworks as a birthday gift?

I’m making it up to you now.

From now on, whenever you want to see them, I can arrange it for you anytime.”

Jealous.

I let out a soft laugh.

But my fingers curled tighter and tighter.

I closed the balcony door and turned back into my room.

“Silas.

Did you think saying that would move me?

What I’d cared about was never something like fireworks.

It was his heart.

The things he’d done for Tessa were the kind of devotion the past me had never even dared to dream of.”

On the other end, Silas’s breath faltered for a moment.

“You don’t like it?

Then what do you like?

You can tell me.

As long as you don’t suddenly leave like before, leaving me unable to find you.”

I asked him, “Will you listen to me?”

Silas paused.

“Yes.”

My smile grew fainter.

“The day I brought up our honeymoon—do you remember when you threatened me?

You said if I kept making noise, you’d cancel the honeymoon.

But you never even heard what I said after that.

I said, if you wouldn’t go with me, I would ask my parents to go with me.

I didn’t need you.”

He hadn’t heard.

He’d never taken my words to heart.

Which was why he didn’t know where we’d gone for that half month after we left.

The other end of the line went completely silent.

I looked at the family photo on my nightstand.

Last month, what had sat there was the photo I’d begged Silas to take with me.

In that photo, I was smiling brightly, radiantly.

And he was expressionless, with obvious impatience in his eyes.

Now, I’d thrown that photo away long ago.

It had been replaced with a family photo of Garrett, Marianne, and me.

I spoke quietly.

“Silas.

That day, before I left your house, I said a lot of things.

I said I wanted to cancel the bonding ceremony.

I said I didn’t want to like you anymore.

But you were on the phone with Tessa.

You heard my words, yet you didn’t listen.

It was as if your ears had grown a wall designed specifically to block me out.

No matter what I said, you could never hear me.”

When we were in the France Pack, I once saw a deaf couple.

They seemed to be arguing.

Their hands were signing very fast.

But their eyes never once left each other, from beginning to end.

Later, they made up.

That man was still looking at his wife with full attention.

After she finished signing, he immediately gave her a thumbs-up to praise her.

Between them, there was clearly no sound—yet it was more like love than every conversation Silas and I had ever had.

I watched them for a long time.

Marianne noticed my gaze and said to me, “Sometimes, when you love someone, even if they can’t hear anything, they will still try their hardest to understand you.

But if there’s no love, even if you shout until your throat is raw, they’ll only think you’re too loud.”

She’d said this to me many times before.

I’d never been willing to believe it.

Not until I saw that couple did I finally understand—Marianne was right.

Silas’s voice dropped low.

“I’m sorry.

I won’t be like this anymore.

I’ll listen to you seriously from now on.”

I asked him, “Silas.

See—you’re clearly capable of listening to me seriously.

So why couldn’t you do it when we were together?”

He fell silent again.

Only after a long while did a choked, pained sob come through the receiver.

“I realized it too late.

Liora.

I fell for you a long time ago.

I just never realized it.

Not until you left this time did I finally understand.”

I closed my eyes.

There was no satisfaction in my heart like I’d imagined.

Only a quiet, settled exhaustion.

“Silas.

You can keep pretending not to understand.” I glanced at the time. It was already ten o’clock. “Stop disturbing everyone with your fireworks.

Go home.”

Silas’s voice was very soft, almost pleading.

“Liora.

Can you really not give me one more chance?”

I let out a deep sigh.

“From the very first time you told me to get out—I’d already given you so many chances.

Silas Calder.

Let’s stop here.

Don’t make me regret ever liking you.”

From the moment I’d moved out of his house, it had already been decided—there was no future for us.

It was just that he’d never realized it.

And he’d never cared.