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I fucking snapped. Every ounce of self-control I had to not lose my temper went flying out the fucking window with those last three words. I lost sight of everything as we both devolved into nothing but angry screaming. Three years of unsaid shit came out of me and out of her.
Anything I said, she didn’t hear. Whatever she was saying, I couldn’t hear.
Grief, guilt, shame, and more erupted inside me—crashing through me in violent waves.
Her hand lashed out to grab a coffee mug, and she chucked it across the fucking room. It crashed into the wall behind me, shattering. It yanked me out of my rage and shut me the fuck up.
“Get out!” Genevieve hollered and threw another one. Her aim was fucking shit—thank fuck. Not that I couldn’t protect myself but shit. The last thing I needed was my wife to hit me with a fucking coffee mug when I was teetering with my self-control. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”
For a moment—for a fraction of a fucking moment—I considered staying. But the rage surging through me was dangerous. My wolf pressed and pushed, desperate for its release. I was wound up so fucking tight that I knew what would happen if I stayed. Genevieve and I… we both could be destructive as fuck when we wanted to be. We were forces of nature fucking battling each other.
No good could come out of me staying.
And from the look on her face, she knew it too.
I stormed out of the house. It was the smartest fucking thing I could do in that moment.
Head-to-toe, I was fucking shaking. I couldn’t stop. My head was all over the fucking place as I drove through town with every intention of going back to Mom’s. No matter how loud I played the music, I couldn’t drown out the sound of Genevieve’s broken sobs. They’d be fucking etched in my brain forever.
God, what a miserable fuck up I was. She deserved so much better than the likes of me in her life.
I stopped at the Main Street stop sign, my fingers tapping restlessly against the steering wheel. It was just me. There was no one else. There wasn’t a damn good reason I couldn’t turn right and head to Mom’s like I was supposed to.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
If I continued on straight, I could get the fuck out of there.
If I left, she’d get her fucking life back.
If I left, I wouldn’t keep disappointing Declan.
There wouldn’t be pack tension if I was gone.
My entire fucking presence in town brought nothing but pain and frustration to everyone around me.
Fuck, people didn’t start dying until I showed back up. How long would it take for someone to say that shit?
I grabbed my phone from the middle console and sent a fast message to Nolan.
Go help her.
It was the least I could fucking do. Genevieve needed more than I could ever fucking give her. I’d done nothing but let her down. All of them.
Chapter 65
Genevieve
Iwas frozen, stuck on the living room floor in a mess of tears and broken coffee mug pieces. My hands shook violently as I tried to collect them. They kept falling. Or I kept dropping them.
I shouldn’t have thrown them in the first place. I was supposed to donate them—I wanted to donate them. What was the point in donating coffee mugs if they weren’t the right amount to make a set?
I shouldn’t have thrown them. A sob clawed its way out of my chest. I shouldn’t have thrown the stupid cups.
“Ginny?” The door slammed shut as Nolan let himself in. I couldn’t move. “Where are—hey! Hey! It’s okay.”
Tears made it impossible to see him as I tried to gather all the stupid little pieces again.
“Hey,” he said. His hands covered mine. “Talk to me, Ginny.”
