Chapter 1: Divorce, Livestream, and Dirty Laundry

Three years after marrying my werewolf wife—yeah, you heard that right—I asked for a divorce.

The memory of that moment still stings. It was this weird mess of guilt and relief all tangled up inside me. The office was freezing, and the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead was almost louder than my heartbeat. Seriously, I could barely hear myself think. Just as I was about to sign the papers, lines of floating comments started flickering in front of my eyes, like a TikTok livestream gone totally rogue:

[They finally split. The second leads get way too much screentime—bet the author’s just the backup’s dad or something.]

[Side dude, get lost already. Have some self-respect, man, you’re just here for drama.]

[The backup is clueless, mean, and blind. The heroine pined for him for a decade. Good thing he gets a tragic ending.]

[Countdown to the main guy swooping in to save the werewolf heroine.]

[I just love a messy enemies-to-lovers ship, lol.]

[To the backup stans above, quit talking trash. The werewolf heroine and the cinnamon-roll lead are endgame, period.]

It was like someone hijacked my reality. Suddenly, the room was flooded with opinions that weren’t even mine. My hand froze over the signature line. I looked up at the cool, reserved woman across from me, her ears tinged pink. “Julia Greer, I don’t want a divorce.”

The second the words left my mouth, the comments exploded like fireworks.

[Am I dreaming? Did Noah Brooks really say that?]

[He said he doesn’t want a divorce! What’s up with Noah—he thinks he can just stay married if he wants? What about the werewolf? Just wait, the heroine’s definitely leaving him!]

[I cannot with this guy. Who actually likes Noah Brooks?]

[Anyone else feel bad for the heroine right now? She’s in heat and desperate, three whole years—how did she even hold back?]

I glanced at Julia. At some point, she’d shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, her ears burning bright red.

In heat?

Julia goes into heat? How did I not know? Seriously, how did I miss that?

Julia, always so aloof, just spat out three words. “Whatever you want.” For a second, I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes, but it was gone just as fast.

She disappeared into the bathroom. A second later, water started running. The comments went even wilder.

[The heroine is gorgeous and badass—why did she ever marry Noah Brooks!]

[Hey, Noah’s a cold, handsome guy, smart and capable. No wonder the heroine fell for him.]

[Fell for what? He was just her hang-up from way back. Her real love is Mason!]

[Enemies-to-lovers stans just want to see chaos—who cares about love (heavy breathing emoji).]

[Ban DaHound from the internet (surprise Pikachu emoji).]

[Hey y’all, quick question—what exactly is a hate couple? (for real tho 🤔)]

[It’s all about the hate turning into heat. You really don’t get it?]

[Help, which DaHound came up with this? I can’t even say it out loud (cringe emoji).]

[...]

Honestly, I was embarrassed too. That ship name? Ridiculous.

At some point we’d made it back to the apartment—I couldn’t even remember the ride.

I was about to keep reading—then Julia came out of the bathroom.

Her silk slip dress was damp, hair loose around her shoulders. She looked both wild and somehow... restrained.

She looked like she’d just stepped out of a late-night indie film—messy but striking. That raw beauty made my chest ache. For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“Noah, your underwear’s dirty.”

I blinked. “I’ll toss it out. I’ll get you new ones tomorrow.”

Her voice was a little hoarse. She held a neatly tied trash bag.

I was confused. I’d only worn them a week—was that really so bad?

I reached out to take the bag. No way was I letting my wife handle the trash—at least, that’s what I thought.

Don’t let her size fool you—Julia was strong. Seriously, I couldn’t even budge the bag.

“Don’t touch it, it’s dirty...” She looked flustered for a second. Then, just like that, she was back to normal.

“The trash bag’s dirty.” She set it down by the door, not meeting my eyes. I could hear water dripping from her hair. The faint scent of her shampoo mixed with the cool air. Something about the way she avoided my gaze made my stomach twist.

The comments went wild again.

[No way, the heroine actually used the backup’s underwear for that?!]

[The heroine’s scared out of her mind—now that the backup found out her little secret, he’ll only hate her more.]

[Sigh, the heroine is so awkward. If only she wasn’t so stubborn, they’d have two kids by now.]

[For the record, I don’t ship the enemies-to-lovers pairing. But I’ve noticed the heroine only goes into heat around the backup, not the male lead. Again, I don’t ship the enemies-to-lovers pairing. Final disclaimer, I don’t ship that ship.]

[Yeah, sure, we all know you’re an enemies-to-lovers stan!]

[Lol, the one above is so scared of the male lead stans. I’ll say it: male lead stans are rabid, always going on about how much the heroine loves the lead, treating that fake-innocent pretty boy like he’s a baby!]

[Who you calling names? Your handle is literally “Don’t Find Me, Mad Dog.” Just wait, I’ve already screenshotted this and posted it to the group chat. Don’t close your DMs if you dare—get ready for judgment!]

[Wait, did the backup and the heroine hook up yet?]

[Go home, DaHound, please just go home.]

[...]