Beta Doesn't Mean a Bottom

Close, Yet Distant

Chapter 12

Lin Wanyue’s POV

Three weeks.

That’s how long it had been since he began executing his carefully laid plan.

He wasn’t foolish enough to go cold turkey — disappearing suddenly would only draw suspicion, and Lin Wanyue had no interest in tipping off a powerful Alpha before the game even started.

So instead, he drifted away like water through cupped hands.

Softly. Quietly. Persistently.

His toothbrush remained in the bathroom, his scent still clung faintly to the bedroom, and his name still lit up Shen Jue’s phone every night — cheerful emojis and flirty banter included.

But his body?

Rarely home.

He stayed out often now, using his modeling shoots as an airtight excuse. Even when the gigs were short, he booked nearby hotels instead of returning to Shen Jue’s arms.

When they did share a bed, Lin Wanyue never stayed up late to talk like before. No cuddling. No forehead kisses. No sleepy murmurs of "Don’t go to work yet."

He smiled the same, laughed the same, texted the same.

But something had shifted.

And it wasn’t just Shen Jue who noticed.

Even the housekeeper had hesitated once, catching him at the door and asking, “Young Master Lin, are you sure you won’t stay the night? You haven’t been back much lately.”

Lin had only chuckled. “The agency’s got me busy. Gotta earn my future, right?”

He played his role well.

After all, the original Lin Wanyue was a Beta orphan, who had no one but Shen Jue to rely on. His entire world revolved around that Alpha. And now that he was stepping into the world of work, it made perfect sense to be excited — even obsessed — with carving out a place of his own.

It was the perfect cover for the emotional detachment.

Of course, he didn’t stop expressing love.

In fact, he cranked it up a notch.

He called Shen Jue every night without fail. Sent food photos and selfies. Used voice filters to sing cute goodnights. He even left post-it notes on Shen’s desk with doodled hearts and kissy faces whenever he stopped by the house.

But it was all performance.

A flawless illusion to keep Shen Jue blind until it was too late.

And it worked.

At least, so far.

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Shen Jue’s POV

At first, he told himself he was imagining things.

Lin Wanyue had just started a new career. He was adjusting to a faster pace, longer hours, new people.

It made sense.

Of course he couldn’t be home all the time.

Of course he was tired.

And yet—

The bed felt too cold.

The phone calls too scheduled.

The smiles… too polished.

He remembered the way Lin used to throw his arms around him after a long day, whining and pouting for kisses, begging to order takeout even when food was waiting at the table.

Now?

He never even asked what Shen had for dinner.

The warmth was still there — but only in words.

Shen Jue frowned down at the message on his phone.

Lin Wanyue: “Don’t wait up for me tonight~ The brand dinner ran long! Love you 💋💋”

He stared at it for a long time, then slowly typed back:

Shen Jue: “Okay. Call me when you’re back.”

A moment later, the screen lit up.

❤️

Just like always.

But Shen Jue’s heart didn’t settle.

Not tonight.

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Lin Wanyue’s POV (Later That Night)

He curled into the stiff hotel sheets, stared at the ceiling, and exhaled slowly.

Things were going according to plan.

The subtle distance had been created.

Shen Jue hadn’t pressed. Hadn’t accused. Hadn’t even asked too many questions.

But Lin Wanyue knew.

He was being watched more closely now.

The man may act cold and logical, but deep inside, Shen Jue was perceptive — especially when it came to people he cared about.

Which made this next phase critical.

The illusion had to hold.

He couldn’t afford a misstep.

After tonight, he would start laying the groundwork for the fake pregnancy. Not yet — it was too early — but the emotional threads needed to be in place.

He checked his calendar.

Next week was the charity gala Shen’s company hosted annually.

In the original novel, that was when the female lead — the Omega secretary — and Shen Jue met in person for the first time.

Everything from that point unraveled like dominos.

Which meant he had one week left to tighten the strings, adjust his act, and prepare to catch them at just the right moment.

He reached for his notebook and jotted a quick line:

“Act a little more clumsy tomorrow. Reinforce the original’s softness.”

Then underlined it twice.

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Shen Jue’s POV (Same Time)

Shen Jue sat at the edge of their bed, phone on the nightstand, untouched dinner still waiting on the tray table.

He’d ordered all of Lin’s favorites tonight.

He didn’t know why.

Habit, maybe.

Or hope.

He’d gone through the house earlier that day, opened drawers, checked closets. Nothing was missing. No signs of escape.

And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling.

That Lin was already gone.
Just… not physically yet.

He leaned back and closed his eyes.

He missed him.

Missed him like something aching in the bones — like warmth bleeding from the marrow.

And for the first time in years, Shen Jue wondered if loving someone with everything you had… still meant anything if they were already walking away.

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End of Chapter 12