Then comes the hints of self-consciousness, the worries of Claire and Old Rae and old thoughts about myself. Here comes the reality of what I am leading to, but I want it all to go away. I beg it all to go away. I have a gorgeous, intimidating, intense, and changed man for a Mate who I need and who needs me, and that's all I want. That's all I want to think about. I don't need Old Rae ruining this for me. James needs me. Not her. That's all. If I want an experience without my anxious, sad self, then I will have it. I deserve it. His touch is enough to distract me.
I gently pull away and he begins to leave soft kisses down my jaw and onto my neck which makes my heart race. "James," I murmur, high off of my emotions, "James, I need you."
"I know," he mumbles against my skin, but I need him to take me more seriously.
"No, James. I want you."
He pulls away, leaving me cold. "You've been drinking."
"I've never been more sober," I smile just thinking about it and I reach out to him, but he steps back, catching me off guard.
"No, Rae. Not tonight."
My heart plummets to the ground. My entire body tenses and falls and weighs me down. An intense numbness spreads throughout me and a deep, encumbering panic suffocates me. I can't breathe. I can't think. My throat seems to swell shut and I pray to the heavens that the tears welling in my eyes don't fall.
It is my worst nightmare come to life. All I can hear is my heart beating in my ears. My chest hurts, it feels as if it's caving in. "Oh," I manage to breathe out. "Okay."
"Rae—"
"No, no it's, uh, it's fine. Um, I'm going to—I'm going to go to bed."
I walk into the light of the hallway before rushing up into the darkness of my room, shutting off all of the lights except for the single lamp beside my bed. I lock the door and let the tears fall, and they don't seem to stop. It's humiliation. It's my most personal fear. It's Old Rae squeezing my throat and Claire laughing in my face. It's my mother telling me that I am a terrible Luna and Noah amused that I'm mated to an Alpha. It's being thrown to the dogs. It's listening to him fuck another woman for three weeks. It's laying under a dead wolf and relating to a dead woman. It's having a drink thrown in my face and being yelled at to get out. It's drinking the pain away. It's never being her. It's not being able to live like this. It's being told that I'm not wanted.
He grabbed me and pushed me against a wall to yell in my face that he doesn't want me. That's what this is. That's what this feels like.
My heart vibrates in my chest, my whole body shaking. My hands cling to everything just to keep myself standing, then I see the bathroom door. I float towards it like a ghost, like I no longer need to breathe. There's something romantic about it, about my hand pushing it open, about my bare feet on the tile floor, about the bathtub.
I bite my lip as my eyes trickle down to the shower floor where my razor lays. I take it and caress it and hold it with care before bending the plastic. Something ignites inside of me when the snapping hits my ears. I can't help but smile as tears slip past my lips. Then I lower myself into the empty tub, and I lay back, gripping the single blade in-between my two fingers. Then I dream. I dream of what I couldn't have here, but what I can have there.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Werewolf Compilations