Chapter 68
The noise and his scent was what pulled me away from where I was sitting. It wasn’t the loud, angry sounds of wolves arguing, which I had learned to ignore in my time here.
This was happy noise bright shouts and high–pitched laughter coming from the open grounds behind the pack house. This noise was always there and I could recognize it from anyway as a parent myself but somehow this felt familiar.
I tried to stay where I was. I really did. But the sound felt like a magnet, and I ended up walking toward the field.
When I got close, I hid behind a thick oak tree so nobody would see me. I peeked out.
There was a group of people there, but I only saw two of them.
It was Astor. And next to him was a small girl, maybe five years old, with bright blonde hair bouncing around her sunny face. She was trying to kick a bright red soccer ball, stumbling more than running, but loving every second of it.
Astor was laughing.
I had heard him sound amused, or sarcastic, or even dangerous. But I had never heard him laugh
like this. It was a deep, free sound that made his eyes crinkle up at the corners. He looked
completely relaxed, like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
He looked thrilled and free. He looked like a father.
It was the first time I had met his daughter, although I didn’t actually meet her. I just watched.
They were a perfect pair. They moved together, even when they were far apart. When she fell down
on the grass, which she did often, he didn’t just tell her to get up. He rushed over so fast, his face full of worry. He helped brush the grass off her tiny knees and kissed her forehead before setting
her back on her feet.
She started running again, and she scored a goal against another player. The laugh that burst out of her lit up her entire face. And watching that small, happy moment, Astor’s own face lit up too.
The sight hurt my soul. A raw, burning pain started deep in my chest.
I tried to tell myself to stop. Faith, you cannot be jealous of a five–year–old child. But I couldn’t help it. What I was jealous of wasn’t the girl, it was the feeling. The perfect, simple feeling of a father loving his child openly.
I kept watching. I watched the way they needed each other. She needed his comfort when she fell.
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He seemed to need her joy to feel whole.
+25 Points
And then the tears started, quiet and involuntary, sliding down my face before I could stop them.
I had done this to my son.
I had deprived him of this moment. He would never know this feeling. My sweet boy would never
know that he had a father who would look at him with that much perfect, unreserved love.
Thank God he had never asked about his father. If he ever did, I would never know what to say.
Because how could I explain that I made a choice that kept him safe, but also kept him
permanently missing something this vital?
While I was stuck in this terrible loop of guilt and regret, watching the sun set on the happiest
scene I had witnessed in a long time, I felt someone standing right next to me.
I didn’t need to turn my head. I knew the sharp scent and the cold presence instantly.
It was Alice.
I wiped my face quickly with the back of my hand and tried to step away. I knew this meant a confrontation, and I was too tired and sad for a fight. I started walking, hoping to get away.
But I wasn’t fast enough.
“Look at that,” Alice’s voice was low and harsh, filled with ice. “Look how happy they are.”
I kept moving, trying to ignore her.
She walked alongside me easily. “They were happy before you came back, Faith. Everything was good. That little girl had a home and a mother and a father who weren’t fighting all the time.”
I stopped and turned to face her. I was done running.
“I didn’t come back because I like it here, Alice,” I said, keeping my voice flat. “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be here.”
Her lip curled. “Then why are you still here? Leave. Go back to wherever you came from.”
That was it. I didn’t care anymore about being polite or keeping the peace. I didn’t want this conversation. I didn’t want her accusation to stick to the terrible guilt I already felt.
“Believe whatever you want,” I said, turning my back fully on her. “I am leaving.”
I walked fast, heading straight for the back door of the pack house. I needed to be alone. I needed to call someone who could remind me that my life, the one I built away from here, was real.
I wasn’t watching where I was going, blinded by the image of Astor and his daughter.
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I bumped hard into someone coming around the corner. I almost fell over.
I looked up. It was Kimberly, rubbing her forehead where I had hit her.
“Kimberly, I am so sorry,” I mumbled.
$25 Points
She sighed and looked at my face. Her usual friendly expression calmed down into something softer. “Hey. You look like you’re about to cry. What happened?”
“Nothing,” I lied quickly. “I just… I need a favor. A very big favor.”
“Okay?” she asked, waiting.
“I need a phone,” I said, putting my hands together like I was praying. “I need to call outside the pack. Can I borrow yours? Just for five minutes?”
Kimberley hesitated for only a second. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. “Just give it back quick. And don’t tell the Alpha I let you use it.”
“Thank you,” I breathed. It felt heavy and unfamiliar in my hand.
I walked to a quiet hallway and quickly typed in the number I knew by heart. It rang twice.
A kind, familiar voice answered the line.
“Hello? Gable residence.”
“Mr. Gable? It’s Faith. Is he okay? Is my son alright?” I whispered into the phone, needing to hear the
answer right now.
I felt a presence behind me as soon as those words left
my mouth.
“You have a son???”
