Chapter 64

Agnes

Elijah pulled the car into the parking lot, and the moment I recognized the neon sign above the diner entrance, my stomach twisted. The lights buzzing over the glass door were the same ones that used to flicker every night at the end of my shift, casting dim halos across the cracked pavement.

I hadn’t been back here in what felt like forever, even though it hadn’t really been that long at all.

“You alright?” Elijah asked, his gaze cutting toward me as he pulled into a parking spot and shifted the car into park. Thea had already unbuckled herself in the backseat and was chattering on about how hungry she was, oblivious to the way my face had suddenly gone pale as death.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a smile onto my face that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’m fine.”

It was just a diner. Nothing to get worked up over. I had walked out of here months ago to enter the Mate Trial and the rest had been history. It wasn’t as if I had left on bad terms or anything like that.

Still, as we stepped inside, the faint hum of the jukebox in the corner tugged at something I thought I had buried over the past months.

The hostess, a new girl who I didn’t recognize with a blonde ponytail, barely glanced up as she grabbed a handful of menus for us. “Booth or table?”

“Booth,” Elijah said without hesitation.

At the sound of his voice, the girl’s head snapped up. Her eyes widened as she took in the three of us. “Alpha Elijah,” she said, her voice turning breathy. “And you must be Luna Agnes.”

She paused, and my heart sank a little as her eyes scanned over me, her brow furrowing. I wondered if she knew I had once worked here. That the new Luna of Silvermoon pack, the wife to the elite Elijah Silvercrest, used to be a waitress.

Not just a waitress, but an estranged daughter of a well-to-do family.

Oh, the drama.

But thankfully, if she noticed any of these things, she didn’t say them out loud. She simply smiled tersely and led us to our table.

We slid into the red vinyl booth in the corner. Thea immediately grabbed a crayon from the cup on the table and started drawing on the kids’ menu. I glanced around, letting my eyes drift over the faded photos on the walls and the familiar sound of the jukebox stereo crackling.

“Hey, wait a second.”

I turned just as a woman approached the table, a notepad in hand and her eyes narrowing at me like she was trying to place my face. Her red hair was pulled into a neat bun, and she still wore the same gold hoop earrings as always.

“Agnes?”

My heart sank to my stomach, but I forced a smile. “Hi, Betty.”

She blinked at me, startled, and then laughed. “I almost didn’t recognize you. Wow, you look... different. Healthier. Happier, even. How long has it been? Two months? Three?”

I could feel Elijah’s gaze settle on me, and I kept my eyes on Betty, even as the heat crept up the back of my neck.

“It’s been an interesting few months,” I said with a small laugh, folding my hands in my lap to keep from fidgeting.

“Yeah, it really has. I mean, you practically lived here back then. Always picking up shifts no one else wanted. I swear, you were running on fumes half the time.” Betty smiled warmly and turned to Elijah. “Well, whatever you’re doing now, it suits you. I’m guessing Alpha Elijah has something to do with that.” She winked, and I felt like I was going to be sick. “I’m happy for you. You deserve it.”

Elijah didn’t say anything, but the way his leg twitched under the table spoke volumes. I hadn’t gone into much detail on my past yet. Especially not my constant working to afford the search for my missing daughter, and I was sure he had questions now.

With that, Betty took our orders and left. The table was silent save for the sound of Thea humming quietly to herself as she continued to color, too lost in her own little world to notice much else.

Finally, Elijah cleared his throat as he toyed with the edge of his napkin. “I didn’t know you used to work here. I mean, I had an idea, but…”

“It wasn’t really that important.” I traced the edge of the table with my fingertip, avoiding his gaze. “It was just to get by. I needed something steady when... well, when things weren’t so great.”

Elijah’s brow furrowed slightly. “I knew you were estranged from your family, the Blakes, but I didn’t realize you needed to work so much. Did you really have to work until you were exhausted all the time?”

I shrugged, offering a half-smile. “A lot of people have to do it to get by.”

His eyes softened, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he sat back, watching Thea as she colored. I was glad that he didn’t ask me any more questions, because I still felt uncomfortable after last night.

By the time our food arrived, the mood had lightened just a little, and Thea was halfway through a story about school. I leaned back and let her do the work of filling the silence so I didn’t have to. And so Elijah didn’t try to fill it with more questions that I wasn’t really in much of a mood to answer.

When the plates were cleared and the check was paid later, Elijah excused himself, ruffling Thea’s hair as he stood. “I’ll be right back. Wait for me in the car?”

I nodded, taking Thea’s hand as we made our way outside. She skipped ahead, humming to herself, and I was grateful for the cold air biting at my flushed cheeks.

However, Elijah didn’t come out right away. I watched the diner door through the car windshield, waiting as the minutes ticked by. When he finally emerged, he looked a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid into the driver’s seat. And he had a small bag in one hand.

I didn’t ask what was in the bag, and he didn’t offer an explanation. I figured it was none of my business.

But later that night, after Thea was tucked in and the house had fallen quiet, I was in the kitchen when Elijah appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, watching me with something unreadable in his eyes.

Then, just as I was opening my mouth to ask why he was looking at me like that, he held out a small box with the diner’s logo on the lid.

Furrowing my brow, I took it carefully.

“What is this?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Just open it.”

I couldn’t help myself—the scent of sugar inside the box was almost overwhelming. I pried the lid open with curious fingers, and my eyes widened.

Inside sat a miniature cake, the kind I used to stare at longingly behind the glass display case whenever I was too broke to justify spending money on dessert.

And in frosting on the top, two words were written.

“I’m sorry.”