Chapter 61

Shirley

There’s silence between Keith and I as I wait for his reply. Snow continues to fall around us, landing in his hair until the black strands are painted with white. He’s as unreadable as ever as he stares at me, his expression still resembling exhaustion as he doesn’t appear to even be trying for words.

And I don’t either. I just wait for something. For him to utter a word or maybe just to see him nod or shake his head. But even those gestures from Keith could mean anything - he always plays so close to the vest.

The longer I keep my gaze on his unmoving features, the more I begin to realize how unfair my question is. He’s been out for hours, trying to protect his pack from whatever necessary. His senses have been heightened all evening and now he’s deflated. And here I am - handing over complicated questions while all he needs is a warm bed and a full night’s rest.

The best thing I can do now is try to retract my words - dismiss them somehow and insist I’d meant them to be more lighthearted despite the heaviness in the air. I’m thinking of doing just that, but it’s then that I hear words leave him.

He breathes first, the rise and fall of his chest quick before his lips begin to move.

“What do you want from me?” Keith asks, putting forward the same question. Immediately, I feel a stiffness meet my limbs as I’m left juggling the query instead.

Thoughts erupt in my head in a frenzy, all of them fighting to be the center of attention. Part of me considers pushing back on him, to remind him that I asked the question first. However…I begin to realize that that’s not the point. The point is that neither of us are going to answer.

I wouldn’t know how to answer - that realization hits me fast. I’m so mixed up inside that nothing seems to make sense. It hasn’t made sense for weeks, months.

I don’t know what I want from Keith. The thought of us pulling back and being nothing more than pure colleagues makes my stomach hurt while the idea of us being more…that just feels impossible.

I don’t know if I want that. I don’t know.

And just like how I realized my question had been unfair, I also know piecing together some half-assed answer is also unfair. He doesn’t deserve that. If I’m going to give him a reply…I want this one to be filled with the rawest of truth.

So I wrack my brain for something, anything.

“I want…” I begin, clouds escaping my mouth again as I search his tired face. “I want you to go get some sleep.”

As the words leave me, I feel my fingers twitching before I finally give in to a long awaited impulse. I raise my hand and bring it to Keith’s face, silently cupping his cheek as my thumb brushes over his skin. Keith’s only reaction is to take another full breath into his lungs as his eyes sadly study mine. But by the time he’s releasing the breath again, my hand is slipping away and my feet begin to move.

Without another word, I go inside.

~

My encounter with Keith has left me shaken up the following day. However, maybe that could also be a lingering effect from the dreams that visited me last night - a question echoing in my head.

“What do you want from me?”

I sigh now as I think about the question, blocking out Keith’s voice as I refocus on my email. I have too much to get done today and I can’t let myself get behind. Plus, I wouldn’t know how to act if I saw Keith.

So working alone will have to do.

As the afternoon wears on, I try to block out the rest of the world or even my own mind as I type away. Elana and Jean also call me at two separate points and I’m thankful for the clear distractions. However, as the day turns to night, I’m beginning to run out of things to keep me busy.

I read for a while, but I eventually abandon the novel. I then decide to just give up entirely and get ready for bed. It doesn’t hit me until I’m climbing under the covers that I haven’t eaten the entire day.

But I’m not hungry. I haven’t felt one prickle of hunger or heard a grumble from my stomach. Instead, I somehow feel full, maybe even nauseous as I try to get comfortable.

Just close your eyes and sleep. Tomorrow will be better.

I close my eyes. I sit behind darkened lids as I wait for sleep to overcome me. I pray for it to find me as my mind is growing tired.

But it never does.

Instead, I’m left releasing an annoyed groan as I sit up. Of course I can’t fall asleep. Even if my mind is exhausted, it’s too determined to let me rest.

So I get back out of bed and go to the door. I figure a glass of water will help me - maybe it’ll trick my brain into relaxation.

Only, as I reach the kitchen, I stop as I see someone else already here.

“Oh, hello, Shirley,” Ruth says as she pauses to look at me. She’s currently holding a tray of freshly baked cookies, supplies laid out on the counter in front of her in a mess.

The image of her somehow brings a slight smile onto her face - maybe because of the adorable apron she wears. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been able to see for myself that Keith’s previous claims had been true - his mother enjoys baking in the middle of the night.

“Evening,” I reply, surprised to find my voice so light. In turn, she flashes me a smile.

“What are you doing up?” she asks kindly as she sets down a tray.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit. “Just thought I would get a glass of water.”

“Ah,” Ruth replies. “I couldn’t sleep either. A bit of baking usually helps me.”

I nod to her, smiling once more as I think of Keith. However, the longer I think of him…the more my smile fades again.

“Would you care to join me?” Ruth asks, regaining my attention. When I stare at her, I find she’s looking at me with excited expectancy.

“Really?” I ask with disbelief. I can’t help but feel that baking with Ruth is some sort of privilege and I’m honored she’s asking.

“Of course,” Ruth says. “I was just about to start on some sourdough bread.”

“I’ve never made bread before,” I admit sheepishly. My reaction only causes Ruth’s smile to grow, an eagerness to flash through her eyes.

“Let me show you.”

Ruth and I get to work, and I quickly find that she is skilled and patient in the art of baking. She makes mixing, kneading, and shaping look like effortless tasks but is gentle with me as she talks me through the steps.

Finally, after my wrists are tired and sore from working the dough, we finally pop the bread in the oven.

“See,” Ruth says, dusting off her hands. “Nothing to it. You just need a good starter.”

“I’ll have to try and get my hands on some,” I comment with a smile.

“Nonsense,” she says, giving me a wave of her. “I’ll give you some of mine.”

I nod to her with gratitude before both of us begin to clear away some of the mess that has formed.

“What got you into baking?” I ask after a little while.

“My aunt owned a bakery,” she admits. “I spent a lot of time there after school and she taught me a thing or two.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I comment, imagining all the delicious smells she must have experienced.

“It was,” she confirms. “When she passed, I was determined to go into the baking business. But I realized I liked it more as a hobby rather than a career.”

I nod in understanding.

“Then I met Arthur and baking became a way to cope with stress when he was out on longer runs,” she says with a sigh. “But when those became more rare…it was a way to unwind late at night. I like baking in the quiet…when it’s dark outside. The rest of the world is just tucked away and it’s just me and the dough.”

I smile at her, rinsing out one of the mixing bowls before she continues.

“Eventually it became me, the dough, and Keith though,” she explains. “When he reached his mid-teens he suffered from insomnia and he’d come to help me.”

The admittance causes me to look at her, almost forgetting about the running water. I decide to quickly shut it off.

“The insomnia got better over time, but he’s definitely a night owl. I always said it’s because his wolf is quite restless,” she tells me. “I swear I’ve never experienced such an eager wolf…I think it stems from his readiness to find a mate.”

“From that young?” I ask, thinking about how she mentioned he’d had issues sleeping even in his teens.

She nods. “Yes. He won’t admit it, but I know he dreams of a mating bond. Maybe it’s due to seeing his father and I together all these years.”

I’m speechless as I take in her words. I have never considered that Keith would be so willing to find his mate after how cold he can be, but it makes sense considering his family. It completely rivals my own reasoning - how I’d been resistant to a mate because of how my parents were together.

I don’t even realize I’m frowning until I hear Ruth’s voice again.

“Everything alright, dear?” she asks.

“Yes,” I tell her, maybe a little too quickly. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“I’m glad you and Keith have grown close,” Ruth states, nearly making me drop the dish as I set it back on the counter.

“I can’t help but feel he’s been lonely,” she continues. “And it’s nice to see him make a friend.”

“He seems to have plenty of friends, though,” I comment as I blink at her.

“He does,” she replies, a small smile remaining on her lips. “But I can tell he cares about you a lot. You two seem to have a…special connection.”

Special connection.

I can tell what she’s saying, even if she’s not fully saying it. We both know that Keith and I are not together - that we’re basically just colleagues. Yet, despite the fact that we’ve cleared the air, she still seems to think that there’s something going on.

And the thing is…

She may not be wrong.