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The bakery looked the same, at least from the outside when I drove by it. It had long since closed for the night, as it was almost one in the morning. The house was definitely the same. Everything was the same, really. But then, it had only been a few days since I had left for Tumblewild. I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting. Maybe for everything to look as different as I felt inside.
I lugged my bag into the back bedroom and began to unpack. The unpacking was the worst part of any trip, but this time I didn’t mind it. It was a mindless task, and I enjoyed turning my brain off to do it. The toothbrush goes back into the bathroom, pajamas go into the washing machine. Easy stuff.
Only when everything was set right, and I made myself a cup of tea did I notice and hate how quiet the house was. I was used to being home alone. Mariam often didn’t spend the night at the house during the last few years she technically lived here. I found out later she had spent most of those nights at her boyfriend Patrick’s apartment, but I never minded the quiet then. It was peaceful, and usually,I’m peaceful, too, so it worked out well. But now, the silence was driving me nuts.
My wolf whined that we should go to our mate and beg him to take us back.
He knows where we are if he really wants to be with us, I chided her. That was a half-truth. He knew I was back home, but I had written in the letter that he shouldn’t come after me. It was a last-minute addition, written as a PS, and even now, I wasn’t sure why I had felt compelled to include it. Maybe just to try to prevent him from feeling obligated to pursue me.
Maybe because I wouldn’t have been strong enough to tell him to his face to leave me alone.
I felt a little antsy, and I knew why. Female werewolves were driven to be close to their mates, and I had left mine in another state. To be fair, Gabe was probably going through something much worse. Distance between mates could drive a male werewolf crazy, at least until the relationship was consummated. I shuddered, recalling how incensed Trace had been when Mariam had left him.
But Gabe wasn’t Trace. He wasn’t an intense, dominant mate, so who knows what he felt. And unlike Trace, all he had to do was mate with Samantha, and all those feelings would disappear.
I fell into a restless sleep, frowning and wondering why he hadn’t just done it already.
__________
“You seem tired,” Heather said. She rearranged the fruit tarts on a tray for the display case while I started a fresh pot of coffee.
“It’s four in the morning,” I answered. That should be a good enough reason to be tired, but usually I was awake and ready for my shift at the bakery without so much as a yawn. Today felt like I was moving in slow motion, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
Heather gave me a look like she wasn’t buying it. We had been opening the bakery together for years, and she knew I was naturally an early riser. Working in a bakery was perfect for me, given the hours.
“It’s not just that,” she said. “You’ve been distracted today. How was the mating ceremony? What was it like in Tumblewild?”
Like most female shifters, Heather had never been to another pack. Unlike males who sometimes went searching for their true mate, females didn’t really have a reason to leave home unless there was some family event, like Mariam’s ceremony.
“It was alright,” I said carefully. Heather stood, waiting for me to say more. I sighed. “Fine. I met my true mate there, but it doesn’t matter because he’s in love with someone else. It’s fine. We weren’t a good match, anyway.”
"What?!" Heather dropped a tart on the floor. "You mean to tell me that you found your true mate, and you're going to let him get away? Just like that?"
I scowled. "Not just like that. I told you. Gabe already has a girlfriend, and he seemed… well, he seemed like he wouldn't be able to give me what I need from a mate."
"Let me get this straight: you, Ella, who has been waiting for your true mate for almost 40 years, found him, only to let some girlfriend get in the way? Have you lost your mind?"
"It's more than just that," I said, though when she put it like that, it did sound stupid. "He's not… tough. He doesn't have a strong backbone, and he's not bossy. He’s… different."
"So are you," Heather pointed out. "Look, I don't know what you mean by 'won't give you whatever,' but you're too smart to let a true mate go. If you give it a try, it will probably work out. It's meant to be, like they say."
I didn't want to argue anymore, so I just shrugged and nodded.
For the rest of my shift, Heather kept throwing me exasperated looks, but I pretended that I didn’t see them, and we didn’t discuss the topic of true mates again. The bakery was thankfully busy, otherwise I probably would have gotten another earful from her. I was just clocking out and taking off my apron when my phone buzzed with another incoming text. There were already several that I had left unanswered.
Mariam: Just tell me one thing. Why????
I sighed and put it back in my pocket. I wasn’t in the mood for another lecture, and she should be focusing on her post-ceremony vacation anyway. Trace would probably take her cell from her at some point if she didn’t stop texting me. My phone buzzed again, and I pulled it back out, this time to just turn the stupid thing off, but I stopped when I noticed it wasn’t from my sister.
Unknown: Jeremy gave me your number. Dinner tonight?
I frowned for a moment before remembering that Jeremy was setting me up with Neil. I hesitated, not sure how to respond. I had agreed to go out with him, but this felt toosoon. I hated being rushed.
Me: Hey Neil. Thanks for the message. I just got back into town yesterday. I’m going to take a few days to just relax before jumping into anything new. Would a day next week work for you?
I hit send and waited. I tidied the back shelves and rotated the stock, thinking he might suggest another day to meet up. A few minutes turned into a half hour, but when I checked my notifications again, there was still no response. Not a big deal; he was the beta, and something probably came up. I pocketed my phone and headed to my car. I put the key in the ignition and frowned when it sputtered but wouldn’t turn over. It was an old Toyota that my mom used to drive before she passed away years early. The car was at least twenty-five years old but had never given me any major problems before.
I tried a few more times, but it wouldn’t turn over. I prayed that it was just the starter and not something more serious. Either way, it looked like I’d need a tow and someone to drive me home.
