Danielle's POV
The crisp morning air enveloped me as I distanced myself from the breakfast drama, the unspoken tension lingering like a shadow. Luke's voice, a pleading undertone, reached me as he caught up, his words a tentative entreaty.
"Danielle, please. Let me explain," he implored, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and longing.
I halted, turning to face him with a guarded expression. "Explain what, Luke? That you've moved on? That I'm just a distant memory now?"
His features tightened, the pain in his eyes mirroring the turmoil within me. "It's not like that. Darci, she—"
"Darci," I scoffed, my tone dripping with bitterness. "The omega you slept with when you thought I was gone. Real classy, Luke."
He winced at my words, but the frustration welled up inside me like a brew
