#Chapter 40: A Way Out
Karl
The sting of rejection pulses through me, acute and raw, as I distance myself from Abby’s place.
My footsteps echo through the quiet city streets, the usual hustle and bustle of the nightlife seemingly
dimmed tonight. Each step aligns with the rapid beat of my heart.
I can’t shake the feel of her, the nearness of our last moment.
Abby looked beautiful. She clearly put a lot of effort into her appearance today; her hair and nails
looked freshly done, she was wearing makeup, and a gorgeous dress.
A few years ago, I might have been bothered by the way that she dressed tonight. But lately, for some
reason I’ve been finding myself attracted to it. She’s se xy, always has been, but is somehow even
sexier now.
But what pi sses me off more than anything is that she was dressing like that for another man who
doesn’t even show any interest in her despite the ring he put on her finger. What gives? Why won’t she
just leave him already?
Shoving my hands deep into my pockets, I aimlessly kick a small rock ahead of me. Its journey,
haphazard and unpredictable, mirrors the state of my own emotions.
“She wanted me,” I find myself mumbling aloud, holding onto the raw intensity of our almost-kiss.
My wolf stirs within, a familiar presence anchoring my thoughts. “She did,” he rumbles in agreement.
“But she held back. If you’d just be patient and let her come to you, she’d see the depth of our love”
“I did let her come to me,” I reply. “She’s the one who called me tonight. But at the end of it, she still
can’t stop thinking about that pr ick.”
My wolf growls in annoyance. “Give her time.”
The anger is right there, bubbling at the surface. “Time? And for what? For Adam?” I snap, frustration
bleeding into every word. “Who leaves their fiancée high and dry like that? Especially when she clearly
in so
car horn in the distance snaps me back momentarily, but my wolf’s voice, deeper
She’s not the young
now, more intricate, more nuanced. You have
I spit. “The lengths she went to for him? The
more as a growl.
out
a soft chuckle punctuating my thoughts.
something.”
throat, frustration
every dam n second.”
clear. “Wanting and acting on it
cautious now. You can’t simply
deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. It’s
what my wolf says.
I murmur, the weight of
my wolf advises, his tone
and when
moment, lost in thought. The journey back to my
the solitude of my own space.
I whisper to myself, thinking of Abby, of what I need to do. Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to
a constant reminder that this fight, this pursuit,
from over.
…
evening shadows stretch long against the hardwood floors of my
the gentle flicker of a
the leather armrest of my chair. It’s
weathered from time and countless brooding sessions—much like the
my mind.
leaves a sour taste
I’m tempted to intervene. But tonight, it’s not just Abby or Adam that burdens
the table beside me,
secretary. Swiping to
“What’s up, Gianna?”
evident in the tone of
know.”
on,” I urge, straightening
residence. There’s talk that he might be
his coma,” she
hits me harder than I’d like to
pack. My grip tightens unconsciously around the phone.
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