Approved for Her, Rejected for Me Chapter 05

Approved for Her, Rejected for Me Chapter 05

I have a pack doctor patch up the wounds on my back, then immediately call an Uber to the airport.

I lean against the back seat as the familiar streets outside the window slowly disappear behind me.

My back still hurts badly, and the three wounds are already swollen, but I don’t have the energy to

deal with them.

My phone is frighteningly quiet.

Not a single person asks where I’ve gone.

I open the family group chat and discover that they have already added Phoebe to it. They have even posted a newly made family photo album.

I open it.

To my surprise, the earliest photos date all the way back to the day Phoebe first moves into the Beta

House.

Over the past five years, they take her to New York, France, Italy, and even all the way to Iceland to

see the Northern Lights.

And Adrian is my mate, yet he is almost always standing beside Phoebe in the pictures.

Sometimes they are watching the ocean together. Sometimes they are skiing side by side.

They look more like a real couple than we ever did.

And I am almost completely absent from the entire album.

If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes today, I would never have realized how completely Phoebe has

replaced me.

I close my phone.

By the time I reach the airport, I don’t have much money left. I can’t bring myself to spend any more

on food, so I board the plane on an empty stomach.

Thankfully, the flight provides free meals.

By the time the flight attendant pushes the cart down the aisle, I’m so hungry that my vision is starting to blur.

“Chicken, please.”

I take the meal tray and start eating almost without chewing.

The flight attendant gives me a sympathetic look and pours me a glass of orange juice.

I finish it quickly, then shamelessly ask for another.

“Could I have another one, please?”

After finishing the entire meal, I finally regain some strength.

In my twenty-five years of life, I have never been this desperate.

And all of this is because of Phoebe.

For years, my parents have taken away my credit cards and bank cards in the name of “teaching me to be frugal.”

Looking back now, I almost regret everything.

I never should have helped Phoebe in the first place.

At first, I only helped cover her tuition.

Then, as we grew closer, I started paying for her living expenses too.

Later, she told me she had been an orphan Omega since childhood and envied me for having a

complete family.

So I brought her to Starfall Pack.

I brought her into my home, introduced her to my parents and my Alpha, and even introduced her

to my friends.

I never imagined that would be where everything started to change.

Phoebe knows exactly how to make people like her.

She never openly competes with me.

Instead, she always manages to look more sensible and obedient in front of my parents, helpless in front of Sebastian, and slowly turns herself into the girl Adrian feels he has to protect.

And the help I once gave her eventually becomes the weapon she uses to replace me.

I’m the one who brings her into my life.

And in the end, I’m the one who gets pushed out.

The thought is almost absurd.

By the time the plane lands, it is already afternoon.

I step out of the airport, and warm, humid ocean air washes over me.

This is my first time actually coming to Miami.

Whenever I wanted to see the ocean before, Adrian would take me on trips abroad.

Then I had to submit budget requests, and international vacations became domestic trips.

Eventually, even those turned into day trips to nearby cities.

Places I once thought were ordinary are now the freedom I have to pay such a heavy price to obtain.

I take out my wallet and count what I have left.

A little over a thousand dollars.

I use my phone to find an inexpensive hostel with good reviews. I plan to stay there for a few days, find a job, and then figure out how to rent a place of my own.

The hostel is better than I expect.

The six-bed room is fairly spacious. Even though several girls are already staying there, it doesn’t

feel crowded.

I’m the last one to enter.

A few young women are sitting on the beds, eating snacks and chatting. The moment they see me, they warmly welcome me and even help me unpack.

One of them suddenly stares at my suitcase, “Wait. Are those clothes real?”

She pulls out one of my jackets, her eyes widening.

“This is Chanel haute couture, isn’t it?”

The others immediately gather around.

“Oh my God. Are you some kind of rich heiress or Pack princess?”

“How are you staying at a hostel if you have that kind of money?”

“Why aren’t you staying at a hotel?”

I don’t know how to answer.

Every time I think about what happened, it feels absurd.

In the end, I lower my head and say quietly,

“I’m broke. I cut ties with my family.”