#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
so much
the distance snaps me back momentarily, but my wolf’s voice,
“She’s changed. She’s not the young girl
more intricate, more nuanced.
spit. “The
more as a growl.
say them out loud, unable to contain my
muses, a soft chuckle punctuating my thoughts. “She
something.”
my throat, frustration evident.
every dam n second.”
his wisdom clear. “Wanting and acting on it are worlds
She’s cautious now. You can’t simply
air fill my lungs. It’s hard to admit, but
what my wolf says.
right,” I murmur,
Earn her trust,” my wolf advises, his
and when to
in thought. The journey back to my apartment is nearing its end,
ready to face the solitude of my own space. But I can’t wander the
what I need to do. Tomorrow,
its presence a constant reminder that this fight, this pursuit,
from over.
…
stretch long against the hardwood
the gentle flicker of a
fingers mindlessly caressing the leather armrest of my
from time and countless brooding sessions—much like
my mind.
leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Every time I think of him
intervene. But tonight, it’s not just Abby or Adam that burdens my
table
secretary. Swiping to
“What’s up, Gianna?”
she starts, a hint of hesitation evident in the tone of her voice, “there’s something
know.”
on,” I urge, straightening
foster brother’s residence. There’s talk that he might be
coma,” she
to admit. My
My grip tightens unconsciously around
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