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Tilly and I could put down a porterhouse. No problem. It was the wolves in us.
We ordered a bottle of their best red wine and, while we waited for our steaks, we vowed not to talk shop.
It never worked, but we vowed it every time anyway.
Tilly’s blue eyes widened but before I could try to see what was going on, she put her glass down and slapped my hand. “Don’t you dare turn around. Eyes forward.”
“Ow! That hurt. What am I not looking at?”
“No one. I mean, nothing.”
I dismissed her crap and turned around and immediately knew my error. An anchor pulled inside my chest, and my breaths went ragged.
One person.
One night.
One sentence, and he’d ruined me. Gods, I usually didn’t let people get to me, but this one...
Jerome stabbed me in the only place that was vulnerable and then twisted the knife.
I whirled back around as the sounds of the restaurant gurgled, overwhelmed by the heartbeat pounding in my chest and between my temples.
“He’s gone. It was a take-out order. He’s gone, babe. He’s gone.”
I emptied my glass of wine in one swallow. “I hate that. It’s been almost a year. You would think I’d have gotten over it.”
“There’s no timetable on heartbreak, Haven.”
She was right, but it didn’t help. I knew she meant well, but my wolf still mourned him for some reason. Since I was a girl, I wanted what my parents had and, once I saw Jerome and she called out mate, I knew he was my fated.
“He didn’t deserve you,” she said.
“No. He didn’t.”
We were served our steaks shortly after, and I watched Tilly sprinkle salt flakes on both of ours. “But you deserve someone.”
“I don’t care anymore, Til. I just don’t. I have plenty to fill my life.”
“Yeah, but not plenty to fill your…”
“Stop!” I said. “Stop it.”
I was lying, of course. I wasn’t complete without a mate. Some people were, and that was fine, but my wolf and I yearned for a mate. To hold us. To care for us, especially when I failed to take care of myself. I didn’t need anyone to provide for me financially. I could do that myself. But waking up to someone holding me—that was one of the things I couldn’t provide myself.
Chapter Two
Collyn
The summer was the worst and the best for my kind of work. But on days like this where my bones ached and I’d sweated out every drop of moisture inside me, I wondered if I should find another profession.
I shucked my dirt-laden boots outside the back door after parking my truck inside the garage. The scent of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables reached my nose. Fitz was cooking dinner. He always tried to keep us healthy, on his nights to cook, whereas I was more inclined to order out or cook something not much better—like frozen pizza.
It just didn’t seem worth doing things to live longer. Not since Sela died. We walked through our days, doing what we had to. Working, eating, watching TV shows that we didn’t care about and probably didn’t even remember.
But she made us promise we’d go on. Such a cruel ask. We knew she didn’t have long, and we knew she was special, but nobody could have predicted how deeply she’d nestle in both our souls in six months.
That was it. No more than half a year.
