Chapter 45
After I turned in the resignation letter I hastily drafted after the pack meeting, all the weight of these past few weeks lifted from my shoulders. Mark was a little miffed by my sudden decision, but said he’d pass it on to the higher ups.
The relief of getting that over with is accompanied by delayed hunger from skipping lunch, so I go grab some food while I’m waiting for Camille’s meeting to be done.
It’s still driving me crazy waiting to see her, but now it’s because of excitement, not dread.
I can’t wait to tell her. I can’t wait to start our life together in earnest.
My steps feel lighter as I return from the bodega with a sandwich in hand, striding through the ground floor lobby toward the bank of elevators.
I can still feel the ghost of Ambrose and Jackson’s reassuring hugs as we parted from our emergency pack meeting, bolstering me as I press the button to call the elevator.
I’ve done my best to shut off my new bond with Camille since she didn’t give me permission to access her emotions, but it’s difficult to not check in on her.
As soon as she’s available to talk, I’ll take her into my office and explain that I’m all in.
Apologize for the misunderstanding about bonding her, and assure her I’d never have done it if I knew she didn’t actually consent.
Beg for her forgiveness and promise to do everything in my power to prove I can be a good bonded packmate to her.
Determination swells within me as I ride the elevator up to our floor. The doors slide open, and my heart skips a beat when I see the woman in question standing on the other side.
“Camille!” I say her name far too loud in my enthusiasm and surprise at seeing her.
Her face pales, and she takes a small step back. A moment passes before I register her puffy eyes and the box in her arms.
I blink at her in confusion. “What’s going on?”
Her throat works, and she shakes her head at me, unable to speak. She turns away like she’s changed her mind about getting on the elevator, but a tall beta standing behind her gives her a stern look and gestures toward the open doors.
“Goddammit,” she mutters, stepping inside at his prompting.
Camille doesn’t look at me, keeping her eyes trained on the buttons as she presses the one for the lobby.
“Camille, what’s going on? What happened?” I ask as the elevator doors slide shut again.
I put together the pieces of what I’m seeing before me. The box in her arms has an assortment of stationary, papers, and trinkets.
She was fired.
Shit, is it because of the bite? Did someone see my mark on her and connect the dots? Did they hear us in my office and report us?
She’s trembling, and instinctively I reach out to place a hand on her arm, needing to comfort her. “Camille—”
“Don’t touch me!” she snaps, tear-filled eyes flashing up to mine in anger.
I stumble backward, removing my hand.
She scoffs at my hurt reaction. “You fucking know what happened. Why are you pretending you care?”
My stomach lurches, brow furrowing as I try to make sense of her accusations. “I’m not pretending, Camille. I do care about you. I thought I showed you how much I cared.”
Camille scowls. “You showed me how pathetic I am. I trusted you. I thought you…” A broken sob falls from her lips. “If you’d have just asked me… if you’d talked to me instead of making the choice for me, I would’ve agreed.”
Fuck, it is about the bite. “I’m so sorry, Camille. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
The elevator’s descent comes to a stop and the doors slide open.
The anger on my omega’s face and pulsing through the bond, strong enough to get past the mental barrier I erected, makes me sick.
“It’s too late for that. You got me fired and now you get to keep your job and your pack to yourself. Have a nice life.” She steps out of the elevator, turning her back on me.
It takes me a moment to process her words, but when I do, I push the closing doors back open and race to follow her. “What are you talking about? I didn’t—I wouldn’t—I want you, Camille. My pack needs you. Work doesn’t matter.”
She whips around, cheeks red and eyes shining with more tears.
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who got fired!
You’re not the one who has to figure out how to get a job as an old omega.
How to go back to being a-alone.” She curses, wiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You didn’t have to do this. It was cruel.
I’m done. I never want to see your face or hear from you again. ”
The anguish and disgust radiating through her bond makes me double over. “Camille, please, I don’t understand,” I shout after her, but she doesn’t respond as she hurries away.
Despair crashes into me as I watch her grow further and further away. My alpha screams at me to chase her. To make her stay. But I can’t.
All I can do is feel her anger and the bone deep understanding that only comes with a bond.
She hates me.
I don’t know how much time passes as I stand there, staring numbly out the doors of the building and letting this grim new reality set in. Eventually, my phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket to see who it is.
Ambrose’s smiling face stares back at me. Stinging tears well in my eyes at the thought of telling him what happened.
I make myself answer it, knowing that this might be the end for us, too. “Hello?” My voice is oddly calm as my emotions shut down to protect me from the onslaught of pain.
“River, what’s wrong?” Ambrose asks, voice rough with worry.
“Oh.” I swallow hard. “Turns out you were right the other night.”
“What? Love, what do you mean?”
“I’ve ruined everything.” I let the numbness continue to take hold. “Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to console me.”
There’s a long pause, and I feel every emotion Ambrose experiences in those moments as if they were my own. Shock. Anger. Grief. And worst of all, empathy.
It’s that last one that makes the facade of my calmness crumble to dust. “I’m so sorry,” I say, even though I know I don’t deserve his empathy or forgiveness.
“It’s okay,” Ambrose murmurs.
“No, it’s not!” I snap. “I don’t understand what happened. She was so angry at me. She got fired. It must be my fault. I shouldn’t have told her about my feelings. I shouldn’t have hoped…” My voice breaks on a sob and I crumple into a crouch in the middle of the lobby.
“Come home,” Ambrose says firmly. “We’ll figure this out. I promise we’ll figure this out. You didn’t ruin anything. You were right to hope. It’s not your fault.”
His words wash over me and my heart aches as the part of me that would usually believe him and cling to his reassurances is gone. In its place is a grim understanding.
There’s no fixing this, at least not in the way Ambrose wants to.
Camille said it herself. She never wants to see me again.
That doesn’t mean she can’t see Ambrose or Jackson. Not if I remove myself from the equation.
It was always going to come down to this. I knew it in my gut.
I stand back up slowly and head toward the parking garage, a haze of numbness settling over me as I make a mental list of all the things I need to sort out before leaving my pack.
It’d be easier if I had family or friends I could crash with while I’m moving out, but I can rent a shitty apartment.
I have enough saved to cover that and the mortgage for as long as they need.
Leaving will be a logistical nightmare, but it’ll be worth it in the end.
All I care about is their happiness. It doesn’t matter that I won’t be there to be a part of it.