Where The Ice Gives Way (Charlotte and Blake) novel Chapter 211

Chapter 211 The Old Blue Mugs
Emily
“Do I knock?” I ask Theo.
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It feels strange to ask. This is a door I used to walk through without thinking. A door I pushed open with muddy shoes after school, with cold hands after playing in the snow, with a backpack dragging from one shoulder while Mum called from the kitchen.
Now my hand hangs uselessly at my side, because I don’t know if I am allowed to enter anymore.
Theo looks down at me. “How about I knock?” he supplies helpfully, and then he lifts his hand.
I hear the familiar creak of the floorboards inside, and it’s as if I can picture every step being taken.
The lock turns, the door opens, and Mum stands on the other side in the warm light, her hair pinned back and both hands wrapped around the edge of the door.
“Emily,” she says on an exhale. “Thank you for coming.”
I give her a small smile because I do not know what else to give, and she steps aside.
Dad stands a few steps back from the doorway, already waiting. He wears a clean shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his
hair is still damp, as if he showered right before we arrived. His hands flex once at his sides.
I swallow down the nerves, looking between them, and clear my throat. “I guess I should properly introduce everyone. Mum. Dad. This is Theo.” My fingers tighten around his. “My mate.”
Theo’s thumb moves over the back of my hand in a steady rhythm, and my dad’s eyes drop to our joined hands before lifting to Theo’s
face.
“Theo,” I continue, voice quieter now, “these are my parents. My mum, Lizzie, and Steven.”
Theo steps forward just enough to offer his hand, but he doesn’t let go of mine.
“It’s nice to meet you, properly this time, sir,” he says.
Dad takes his hand. “You too.”
“Thank you for looking after her,” Mum says.
Theo’s face softens as he smiles back at me. “She does plenty of that herself.”
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Chapter 211 The Old Blue Mugs
I look down before my eyes can burn, and awkward silence falls around for a moment before Mum presses one hand to her chest. “Your
coats. I can take them.”
Theo helps me out of mine first and passes it to Mum.
She hangs it near the door.
On my old hook.
My name is still written above it in Dad’s uneven carving.
I stare at it too long, wondering how many times they’ve walked past that and thought of me. Once? Twice? Ever?
“I fixed the screw last winter,” Dad says. “It kept coming loose.”
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My fingers curl around the strap of my bag. He fixed a hook for a daughter who wasn’t even here to use it. And I don’t know what to do
with that.
So I focus on what I know I can handle.
Dinner.
The house smells exactly the way it used to smell when snow trapped us inside, and Mum would make too much food.
Mum turns toward the dining room quickly. “Dinner is ready. I wasn’t sure what you liked now, so I made a few things.”
“A few things?” Dad murmurs.
Mum shoots him a look.
He looks at me and gives the smallest shrug. “She made enough for twelve.”
Theo’s mouth twitches. “I can help with that.”
Then we follow them through to the dining room, and every step brings something back.
The narrow table by the hall where I used to leave my schoolbooks. The little framed picture of the lake in summer. The old clock above
the kitchen doorway is still ticking too loudly.
There are pieces of me everywhere, like I never even left.
I swallow around the urge to cry and keep pushing my feet to the dining room.
But when we get there, it’s the strangest thing that breaks me.
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Chapter 211 The Old Blue Mugs
My old blue mug sits beside one plate, its handle chipped at the base.
It’s as though the straw has finally broken the camel’s back.
Theo stops with me, looking concerned, just as my lip wobbles and the first tear falls.
(”
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It’s completely stupid that it’s a mug that makes me crumble. I loved that mug. I would have my tea in it every morning. I know its shape
without even touching it. I never even thought of it when I was exiled, when I was alone, or when I was broken.
But seeing it now…
Mum sees me looking and reaches for it. “I can get you a proper glass.”
“No,” I say quickly, and her hand stops.
I take Theo with me to the table and touch the mug with my fingertips. “This is fine.”
Theo pulls my chair out, and I sit. He takes the seat beside me. Dad sits across from us, and Mum lowers herself beside him, smoothing
her napkin across her lap.
Theo’s voice comes smoothly through my mind.
We’re taking that mug with us when we go.
I look down to hide the tiny smile that pulls at my mouth.
You can’t steal my childhood mug, I link back.
Watch me.
I wipe my cheek with the napkin and try to take a breath that does not shake.
Mum’s hands are folded tightly in her lap. Dad keeps looking at the mug, then at me, then down at his plate like he cannot decide where
his eyes are allowed to land.
The food sits untouched between us.
Dad clears his throat. “You should know, Emily, Thomas came to us the night after Marcus rejected you. Marcus was already losing
control. He was angry and violent. Thomas blamed you for all of it.”
Mum’s voice is thin when she speaks next. “We told him you had done nothing wrong.”
Dad’s jaw tightens. “I told him Marcus made his choice, and the consequences belonged to him.” He swallows. “But Thomas did not like
that. He said Marcus would recover if you were removed from the pack.”
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Chapter 211 The Old Blue Mugs
Dad continues, his hands closing into fists. “Then he gave us a choice.”
I know what is coming, but I still brace for it.
“Either you left Munroe willingly,” Dad says, voice rough, “or he would have
you
killed.”
Mum makes a small sound and looks down at her lap, while the old clock continues to tick above the kitchen doorway.
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Dad keeps going, though every word looks like it costs him something. “He said if we warned you, if we tried to run with you, if we went
to another Alpha, he would make it look like a rogue attack. He said your body would be found beyond the border, and everyone would
believe you had wandered too far alone.”
Theo’s hand tightens on my thigh, and my throat closes.
Mum wipes beneath her eye. “We thought if you hated us, you would leave and keep walking. We thought you would be safer if you
believed there was nothing here to come back to.”
Sasha stirs softly inside me as my emotions surge.
We can come back, she whispers. That does not mean we have to stay.
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