Chapter 98

Fiona

“Please have this correspondence sent out to the Mercy Medical Company as soon as possible,” I tell Patrice, the older mail lady. She smiles at me and pats my hand.

“Honey, you didn’t have to come all the way down to the mail room. You could’ve called me to come get this from you,” she says, taking the envelope. I learned pretty quick over the last few days that the best way not to bump into Ethan is to do as much of my work that requires me to be away from my desk as possible.

If that means bringing one envelope down to the mail room, I’m doing it.

Ethan tried to talk to me twice the day after the encounter with his wolf, but I couldn’t handle the overwhelming sadness, regret, and longing that I feel for him. He kept trying to tell me he’s working on a way to stop the marriage, but it’s been four days since then and he hasn’t come up with anything.

“You’re doing so well, honey. Keep up the good work,” she says. Her motherly tone chases away some of the sadness that’s been sitting with me for the past few days. Besides the initial bullying at the beginning of my work here, everyone has been kind. It’s making the debate to leave difficult.

“Thank you, Patty,” I mumble before heading back to the elevator.

I sigh.

Am I being to hard on Ethan?

Probably, but until he has a certain and foolproof way to stop the marriage, I can’t take the risk of my heart breaking even more. It’s not like he’s sharing his thoughts and possible solutions with me. He just keeps telling me he’s taking care of it. That’s it.

I think back to our last conversation and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Could you explain it to me?” I asked him, throwing my arms out in annoyance.

“Can’t you just trust me?” He fired back.

“Ethan, what’s so hard about opening up and telling me what plan you’re coming up with? I just want to know if I can stop worrying or not,” I told him, looking down at the ground.

He growls softly. “So, you don’t trust me?”

“Is it considered not trusting if I just want to know what you’re thinking? I know I’m not part of your world, but maybe I could offer some advice,” I said, my arms instinctively going around myself as a shield. Not to protect myself from him but to keep him from seeing how insecure I’ve been feeling.

“I know you’re a leader, but even leaders need to talk with others about their ideas and plans. How do you expect to get through the rest of your life if you don’t let someone help you lead? Isn’t that what you told me an Alpha’s partner is supposed to do?”

Ethan sighed and shook his head, his fingers tugging at the ends of his hair as he thought.

“I just need time to fix this.”

After that conversation, I realized he wasn’t going to tell me his plan. It’s probably partially my fault, for just walking out the other day and not asking him for help, so believe me, the hypocrisy of my own words isn’t lost on me.

I just didn’t have a clear enough head to think about working this out together, and once I brought it up, he didn’t want to listen.

So, that’s my fault.

It’s been three days since we had that conversation. Since then, every conversation has been strictly business and either consisted of orders or instructions from Ethan.

My next stop is the marketing department where I pick up the new informational pamphlet samples for not only the Silverclaw Company but the Law Firm as well. They also have the new business card samples and a flash drive containing the online promotional content that was created for both businesses.

Each of these needs to be approved by Ethan before they can be printed or posted anywhere.

Once I have the materials, I rush back to the elevator. Before I can get there, a catty, sharp voice calls my name.

“Angela,” I mutter, turning to look at her. She smirks and crosses her arms over her chest.

“I hear you’ve given up on Ethan.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll have to thank you. If you reject him, the alliance can move forward smoothly,” she says, moving closer.

“I haven’t given up on anything,” I fire back, tightening my fingers around the flash drive in my hand. Where had she heard this from? Yes, I was keeping a distance from Ethan, but that doesn’t mean I gave up on him… did it?

Is that how everyone sees it?

Is that how Ethan sees it?

“Really because I have on good authority that our marriage will move forward very soon,” she says, lifting a hand and checking her immaculate fingernails. “His parents are working their hardest to keep this alliance from falling apart.”

My gut churns.

It could be a lie, I remind myself.

It’s what I wanted.

Liar, a voice in my head whispers. It’s right. I hate the idea of their marriage moving forward. Angela opens her mouth like she’s going to say more, but I can’t listen to her anymore. I already have enough trouble with what’s going on, my mind in constant chaos and my heart in constant turmoil.

I don’t need Angela adding to my problems, so I hold up a hand to stop her.

“I have work to do, Angela,” I snap at her, turning and rushing to the elevator. I step in as soon as it opens and only breathe a bit easier when the doors close and I can’t see Angela anymore.

Did Ethan not find a way to break it peacefully? Did they threaten him again?

I wish he would talk to me, even if it was to tell me he couldn’t get out of the marriage. If Angela is right, I want to know. I need to know if I should begin looking for another job. Leaving the Silverclaw Company so soon after I’ve been hired won’t look good on a resume, but if he marries Angela, I can’t stay.

Coming to work and seeing them together, just the thought of it makes me nauseous.

Closing my eyes, I roll my neck to attempt to relieve the tension there. Maybe it’s time to begin searching for something else. I’ve loved working here, so maybe I can find another company that’s has an opening for a similar position.

“If you ever need somewhere to work, my company is always open.” Chris’s words from after the interview flit through my brain.

I brush them away, though. After how Chris acted the other day, I don’t think working for him would be a good idea. It may end the same way that meeting went, and no one would benefit from a debacle like that again.

The elevator dings, and I step off, walking over to Ethan’s office door. I knock softly, knowing he’ll hear it, and when he calls for me to come in, I straighten up and force myself to calm down. When I push the door open, his eyes are already looking in my direction.

“I have the marketing materials for you to approve. I’ll just leave them here,” I tell him, setting the drive on the edge of his desk. Turning, I walk across the room, feeling his hot gaze on my back the entire way, and just as my fingers wrap around the doorknob, he calls out.

“Eat lunch with me,” he says, but the tilt to his tone brings a bit of a question into the words.

Peering over my shoulder, I really look at him this time. He looks tired, more tired than he did even after the fight, and he was drugged then. Is that my fault?

Probably. Everything seems to be my fault right now.

My chest tightens painfully, and I have to force my next words out.

“I have an appointment during lunch, but maybe next time,” I lie. His eye twitches, and while it’s barely noticeable, I catch it. Before I can say anything else, he lifts a hand and dismisses me, and I can’t help but wish he’d gotten up and came for me.

As I walk out, I realize that neither of us thought our relationship would come to this. This fractured, misunderstood, and unsteady thread that slowly unravels as we move further and further away from each other.

I swipe my lunch from my bag and make my way to the elevator, taking one last glance at Ethan as I walk inside the small box. He stands at the doorway to his office, watching as the doors close between us.

Come to me.

The words sit on the tip of my tongue, but neither of us moves.

The ride down is silent but loud at the same time, ringing in my ears as if I’d been hit on the head. The ringing continues, bouncing around my body as I walk through the lobby and over to the small staff room.

How had our relationship gone from a growing passion for each other to this sad and faltering mess?

Sighing, I step into he empty staff room. At least I can have some peace and quiet while I eat lunch. I stop at the table furthest from the door and set my lunch down, digging in my bag for the fork I know I put in there this morning.

The door clicks behind me, and I spin to find Jack standing behind me.

“Hello, wife,” he says, smirking and tucking his hands into his pocket as he stands between me and the door.