Chapter 146

Raymond really was trying his absolute best to make our relationship work. I had to give him credit for that.

Two weeks in, he was still making romantic gestures with determined effort. More candlelit dinners appeared in our private chambers regularly, complete with my favorite foods. Fresh flowers appeared on my desk every single morning. He'd even had some jeweler craft a delicate silver necklace with a pendant showcasing our pack symbol—probably cost him a fortune.

The romantic settings were absolutely perfect. The food was incredible. Perfect romantic atmosphere. But my mind kept wandering during these dinners, floating off to places Raymond would never be invited.

"That pendant looks beautiful on you," Raymond said over dinner, nodding at the necklace around my throat. I wore it because I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but damn if that necklace didn't feel like it weighed a ton.

"Uh-huh," I muttered, still staring at that stupid letter from this morning. Nothing from Kane—though I kept hoping like a fool—just correspondence from the Alpha King's office about territorial boundaries. Didn't matter what the mail was about—territorial stuff, pack business, whatever. I'd still end up wondering about Kane. Where was he? What was he up to? Did I ever cross his mind?

"Aurora?" I could hear Raymond getting annoyed. "Are you listening to anything I'm saying?"

My mind had wandered again. I'd completely missed whatever he'd been saying about childhood memories or his vision for the territory's future expansion. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

He tried to stay patient, but I could see how tired he was getting. Dark circles under his eyes, that worn-down look. "I was asking about our first dance at the harvest festival. We were sixteen, remember? You wore that blue dress with the silver trim. But you seem... somewhere else lately."

His words made my stomach drop. The guilt felt like someone twisting a knife in my chest. This decent man was working so hard to rebuild what we'd lost, pouring his heart into every gesture.

Moon Goddess, how pathetic was I? I couldn't even handle a simple dinner conversation. My brain kept replaying moments with Kane instead of focusing on the man sitting right in front of me.

"Sorry, I'm still figuring stuff out," I mumbled. Same lame excuse I'd been giving him for weeks. Hell, I didn't even buy it anymore. Tasted like lies when I said it.

During our walks around the territory, Raymond always offered his arm like some Victorian gentleman. He'd point out reconstruction progress, new improvements, future plans for expanding the eastern border. I took his arm—refusing would've been rude and unnecessarily cruel—but the touch felt stiff.

"The new defensive positions should give us much better sight lines across the valley," Raymond noted as we passed the rebuilt guard towers, his voice carrying the pride of someone who'd overseen every detail.

I nodded along dutifully. "Good thinking. Very practical approach."

I sounded like a robot. Flat. Empty. Even I cringed at how fake it came out.

Raymond wouldn't give up on our old memories. He'd tell these cute stories about when we were kids, sneaking around the forest, getting into trouble. His whole face would brighten up talking about the good times we'd had.

I felt like I was acting in some terrible play every time we talked. Natural conversation seemed impossible when my heart wasn't in it. I'd nod and smile and say the right things, but I couldn't reach that place where I actually cared.

We were growing further apart every day. Like standing on opposite sides of a river that kept getting wider.

The man pulled out all the stops. Remembered my favorite flowers, my favorite movies, and made sure my coffee was perfect every morning. Any other woman would've melted. But all his efforts just made it more obvious what wasn't there. Something fundamental just wasn't there, no matter how much we both wanted it to be.

Guilt consumed me completely. Raymond was doing everything humanly possible to fix us, and I couldn't even fake that old spark we used to have.

Nice enough, sure. Respectful, absolutely. Considerate in every way that mattered. But where was that lightning bolt feeling I got when Kane so much as glanced in my direction? Where was that electricity that made my skin tingle and my pulse race?

We both knew the truth by now. This whole reconciliation thing? A total disaster.

Three weeks of romantic failures and cringe-worthy moments later, Raymond tracked me down in the library. My go-to escape these days, surrounded by books that didn't expect anything from me. He dropped into the chair like someone had beaten the fight out of him. Defeat written all over his face.

I finally had to speak up.

"Raymond, we need to stop kidding ourselves," I said, slamming my book shut. Hadn't read a single word anyway—too busy thinking about Kane.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Same thoughts have been eating at me too. I've been staring at the ceiling for hours, trying to figure out where I screwed up."

Raymond ran his hands through his hair like he wanted to rip it out. "Why can't we figure this out? We have history, Aurora. Doesn't that count for anything? All those years growing up together?"

Seeing him this broken made my chest tight. This wasn't the confident Alpha everyone else saw—this was just Raymond, vulnerable and confused about why his best efforts weren't enough.

"What if I just... tried more?" Raymond's voice cracked a little. "More flowers, more patience, more whatever-you-need. Would that bring you back to me? Just tell me what I need to change."

"You deserve someone who chooses you because they can't picture life with anyone else," I said quietly. "Someone who gets butterflies just seeing you walk in. Someone whose pulse goes crazy when you smile. I can't be her anymore. And dragging this out just hurts us both."

Letting go was killing him—I could see it in his eyes. "How am I supposed to just... give up? You've been in my life forever, Aurora.”

Words failed him as the full weight of what we were discussing settled between us. His eyes went glassy as everything hit him at once.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, hoping to offer something. "Look, divorce doesn't mean we hate each other. We can still be friends. Still have each other's backs. That has to count for something.”

Raymond went quiet for a while, just looking at our hands. When he finally looked up, his eyes were shiny but steady. Like he'd stopped fighting something and finally accepted it.

"Kane was right about one thing. You should be able to choose what makes you happy," he said at last. His voice was rough with feeling, but I heard steel underneath. "Even if it's not me. Even if it tears me apart to watch."

This conversation shattered my heart, yet we both needed it to heal properly. We sat quietly for several minutes, mourning something that never really began properly despite our best intentions.

"Now we figure out how to separate amicably for the pack's sake," Raymond replied, strength creeping back into his voice. "No more torture. Let's try being friends instead of two miserable people who can't stand being around each other."

"I'll get the divorce papers started," I whispered. Terrifying to say out loud, but weirdly liberating too.

Raymond gave a slow nod. "I won't make this harder on you. You've been through hell already. Time to choose your own path without everyone else's baggage dragging you down."

He got up to leave, then paused at the door like something just occurred to him. "Aurora? I just hope Kane realizes how lucky he is. And I hope he's grown into someone worthy of you."

Once he was gone, I stayed there among all those books and that heavy quiet, finally able to face what I'd been hiding from for weeks. My heart belonged to Kane. It had never stopped belonging to Kane, even when I'd tried convincing myself otherwise.

The question was whether he'd managed to overcome his fears enough to fight for what we could have together.