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“Oh, my God. I’m going to finish dinner. Marshall will be home soon.”
“You were the one that wanted to be the daddy,” Fox laughed, making Dawson mumble something I couldn’t hear.
“Am I interrupting?” I asked.
“Marshall,” Lea cried, jumping up and running over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist, pressing herself against me.
“Is that my shirt, Sugar?”
She bit down on her lip, nodding. “I was missing you and it smells of you. Do you mind?”
I pressed a kiss to her head, a feeling filling my chest that I couldn’t explain. “Of course not. You seem happy… less stressed. You have a good day?”
She turned, grinning at Dawson. “Someone got me an assistant. Archer’s sister. She’s amazing. We got about a week’s worth of work done today. I think I might pull these awards off.”
“I never doubted you.”
“Well, I did. But now… well, now I think we can do it. Two weeks and counting. How was your day?”
“Good. Nothing exciting to tell you. I watched a band do band stuff and made sure no one tried to kidnap them.”
She frowned, cupping my cheek. “You seem sad. What’s going on?”
I faked a smile and shook my head. “I’m just tired, Sugar, that’s all.”
“You wanna play strip Twister?” She winked.
I let out a soft laugh. “Not tonight. I’m going to go take a shower.”
“You want me to come?” she asked, looking hopeful. I hated saying no, but I needed a minute. Shaking my head, her nose scrunched up with disappointment. “Okay. Will you be back for dinner?”
“How long will it be?” I looked to Dawson.
“Thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be back, Sugar. Then you can tell me who lost Twister.”
And like he was trying to stop her feeling sad, Fox stepped in behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and I felt their eyes on me as I left the room.
Upstairs, in the room where I kept all my things but never slept, I turned on the ensuite shower and pulled my phone from my pocket before sitting on the bed. I ran my fingers through my hair before tilting my head left and right, trying to force some of the tension out of my body. Opening my phone, I scrolled through the drafts of my emails to the one I’d saved three years ago that contained nothing but a photo. A photo I’d hidden there because I was too scared I’d come across it by accident in my camera roll, but today was the one day a year I allowed myself to look.
His face hit me like a hammer. His blue eyes sparkled, his smile wide across his face. His brown hair messy like always. I missed him so much it hurt and emotions ripped at my heart, demanding I paid attention.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
A light knock sounded on my door and for a second, I wished Fox had added locks to them. It opened slowly, an apprehensive Lea standing there. “I can go if you want.”
I didn’t reply.
She took my silence as an invitation, walking over to the bed and taking a seat. “You know, if we were fated werewolf mates, I’d be able to feel your pain, right?”
“Of course. It’s the mate bond.”
She took my phone from my hand, not looking at the screen, keeping her eyes fixed on me, silently demanding I look back. I lifted my heavy gaze.
“I can feel it, Marshall. I can feel your pain.”
I huffed. “That’s impossible.”
