#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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