Chapter 65

Renee’s POV

Eric snaps the jewelry box shut. A lump forms in my throat and I can’t even explain why. Eric quickly rises from his knees as though he never meant to propose.

“All right then, Renne” Eric says indifferently. His words sting.

“Eric, don’t” I tell him, but it’s too late. I can already see the effect of my rejection impact his view of me, of us.

“I have to go,” Eric says abruptly.

“Go where?” I ask him, but the door is already slamming shut.

I suddenly feel cold. Looking back at the mirror, I see I’m coming out of my wolf.

I no longer want to look at myself in the mirror. I snatch my clothes up from off the floor and hastily throw them into the hamper as I go to the bathroom.

I crank on the water and watch as droplets splash onto the stone flooring.

That’s not fair of Eric. I tell myself. Of course, I told him no. He wasn’t even thinking straight. We had literally just had sex, he’s probably just running off of that high. Once he cools down from the heat of our moment, he’ll see how out of line he was being.

The hot water splashes against my back and I relax into it. The steam fogs up the bathroom and I take my time. I layer up soap and let my co coroner sit for awhile.

I can’t shake the sad look on Eric’s face from my memory- but I couldn’t say yes to him just to spare his feelings. Besides, he’s probably only hurt that he’s been rejected not that I personally said no to him. It’s not my job to console his ego.

I stand under the water and watch as bubbles slide down my now reddened skin. If o had said yes, it would only be a matter of time before we fell back into old patterns and Eric realizes he hates being controlled by his emotions and took his resentment out on me again.

I made the right choice, he just can’t see that yet.

By the time I’m dressed with my hair done and downstairs I see that Eric is gone. I think about calling him, but decide to let him cool off.

With Debbie at her friends house this means I have a day to myself. This hasn’t happened in, I pause to think, I don’t even know how long.

I take advantage of the time and make myself a big breakfast. I’m starving. I could eat what Eric has made me but eating the food prepped by a man who’s proposal you just rejected seems sort of cruel. So, I turn on some music and him as I get to work on preparing my own food.

If I wasn’t a designer, I think I’d be a chef. Though, because I’m a designer, food presentation is important to me.

By the time I’m finished, I have a perfect golden stack of waffles slabbed with a thick square cut of butter and gooey maple syrup dripping over the edges. Two sunny side up eggs accompanied by slices of bright green avocado, and a tall glass of orange juice.

When it’s all set before me, my stomach knots up at the realization I have no one to share this with. The sound of my cutlery fills the otherwise silent house and I get the urge to cry. But I don’t.

I swallow my tears as I stuff my mouth with food.

When I’m finished, what’s left is the mess. I sigh and leave the dishes for later.

I have to get out of here.

I drive into town and walk through the shops, mindlessly touching fabrics I find cute. I stroll in and out of book shops, politely denying the assistance offered to me by the clerks.

It’s a nice enough day, lots of people are out- though all I notice are the couples.

Some sitting outside a coffee shop, enthralled in their conversations. Another couple walk hand in hand down the sidewalk, I have to awkwardly step aside so they don’t have to let go if one another’s hands as we pass by each other.

I get irritated at myself. It’s like I’m trying to make myself feel guilty.

I never wanted any of this. I remind myself. Eric is the one who dragged me to live with him. He should’ve seen this rejection from a mile away.

I shoulder my purse and my walk with more purpose to my car, not caring if a couple has to release their partners hand so I can get by.

In the car, I dig out my phone and ask Debbie which friends house she’s at. Her message comes in with a ping. I text back and tell her I’m on my way.

I toss my phone onto the leather passenger seat and pull out of my parking spot.

By the time I get to Debbie’s friends house forty minutes later on the other side of town I’m hungry again.

I go up to the white door of the cookie cutter style home where a popular girl on Debbie’s class lives. The mother of this girl, Marie, has a huge crush on Eric. It was obvious by the way she practically drooled over him during soccer practice- because of this she doesn’t like me very much.

Her dislike of me is evident when her face falls from a wide grin to me of disappointment. It’s obvious she was expecting Eric.

“Debbie; your mom is here!” Marie calls over her shoulder and I figure that’s about as much as a greeting I’ll get.

Luckily Debbie skips to the front door quickly so I don’t have to stand in awkward silence for too long.

“Thanks for watching her,” I say to Marie.

“Mhm,” she replies dismissively.

“Where’s daddy?” Debbie asks. I make the mistake of looking at Marie who lifts her thin eyebrows in interest at the sound of Eric’s name.

“He’s busy,” I tell Debbie like it’s no big deal and hurry us to the car.

Once buckles inside Debbie asks where we’re going. I haven’t quite thought that far ahead. I just didn’t want to be alone.

“We’re going to get dinner. Just the two of us,” I tell Debbie with a smile that I hope seems genuine. “Just like we used to,” I tell her hoping she’s buying what I’m selling.

“Are you and daddy still fighting?” She asks.

“No, of course not,” I tell her my voice just an octave too high and Debbie sighs. She doesn’t believe me.

I take her to a nearby Italian restaurant. It’s too late for lunch and just barely early enough for dinner so she there’s plenty of open space inside. The waitress tells us to sit anywhere we like. I follow Debbie who leads us to the center of the restaurant.

The waitress pies water into our glasses and gives a minute to look at the menus.

I pick up the large white menu. “So, what looks good?” I ask trying to keep the mood light though I notice Debbie eyeing me but I pretend not to see her.

“Why won’t you and daddy just be together?” Debbie asks. I instinctively look around embarrassed at Debbie’s lack of filter.

“It’s not that simple,” I tell her knowing it won’t be a satisfactory answer. But so what? I’m the parent. She doesn’t need to know everything about my personal romantic relationship.

Debbie slurps from her water. I do the same. It’s warm in here. “Why did you change your name?” Debbie asks and I nearly choke on an ice cube.

“To protect you,” I tell her honestly. Debbie squints her eyes at me.

“How?” She pushes.

I sigh. I don’t know how much I can tell her, how much she’ll understand. Though the truth is what I did and what I do does effect her, it’s her life too. I lean forward in my seat and Debbie peppers her elbows up on the glass table.

“Your father and I didn’t get along, for a long time,” I tell her holding her gaze so she knows I’m serious.

“But you were fated-mates, right?” Debbie asks. I bite my lip. This poor girl. How do I explain to her that the romance books she reads about fated-mates and true love rent always a happy ending in real life.

“Yes,” I say hesitantly. “That doesn’t mean we were supposed to be together,” I say knowing once again the answer isn’t satisfactory. Debbie’s face scrunches up in confusion.

“But, that’s what fated-mates mean. You are supposed to he together,” Debbie argues. I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

I see the waitress about to approach our table, but I gently shake my head to tell her to give us a minute. Luckily, she picks up on it and backs away.

I put my hand on Debbie’s. “Your father didn’t want us together,” I tell her simply. “I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s the truth.”

Debbie’s wet eyes meet mine. “So, you ran away and changed your name so that you didn’t have to be with him and he wouldn’t have to be with you?” I nod. I’m glad she’s beginning to understand. “But, he found you,” Debbie says like that’s supposed to be the ending of me and Eric’s story. “He found you and now he wants to be with you, but you don’t want to be with him,” Debbie says but it sounds more like a question. A question I don’t know how to answer.

“I’m not so sure he does want to be with me,” I tell her gently. Debbie pulls her hand away.

“He does!” She shouts. A few heads turn to look at us and I tense up.

“Okay,” I say trying to calm her down. The tears begin to roll down her cheek.

“You’re being how daddy was years ago,” Debbie says and I have no reply.

Debbie wasn’t there all those years ago, she has no idea how her father was.

She only sees Eric in this light of the father she’s always wanted, she has no idea that everything I’ve ever done was for her and all Eric did was show up and force me back into his house and somehow he’s the hero and I’m the villain. This makes me dislike Eric all the more.