Chapter Eighteen
There’s something special about swimming in the ocean. It’s so quiet down here.
It’s my favorite place to go if I need time to think—or, like today, not think—in peace.
This is my true happy place. The place I can go to escape it all. To just be me.
With a flick of my tail, I head back to the surface to take a much-needed breath. I have a habit of leaving it until the last minute. And how embarrassing would it be to drown as a whale shifter?
As I dive back under, a whale calls out, and I spin around.
Coming toward me are two gigantic whales, a narwhal, and a walrus.
Seriously?
I came here so I wouldn’t have to think about them, and yet, here they are.
I should swim away, but belugas aren’t exactly fast swimmers. Aidan would have no issues catching up in his walrus form. Carter’s and Oliver’s whales can travel faster than mine—at least in short bursts. The only one who wouldn’t stand a chance of catching me would be Ty. Narwhals are even slower than belugas.
There’s just no point in trying to run—or, in this case, swim—away.
Swimming backward, I move at a leisurely pace as I wait for them to catch up. I tense—as much as I can as a beluga—waiting for them to speak inside my mind as they surround me.
Instead, Oliver’s humpback nudges me until I turn around and start swimming once more.
No one says anything as we swim, rising in and out of the water when we need to, and it’s a beautiful thing. I’m pleasantly surprised that none of them try to speak via the mind link all aquatic shifters share when they’re shifted.
We swim for hours. I don’t want it to end.
The peace I feel swimming among them is something I’ve never felt before.
This is what we could’ve had.
What we should’ve had .
They were meant to be my pod, and we should’ve spent the last ten years swimming as one. Instead, I was left here alone.
We should’ve had forever together. Even with as little time as I spent with them after my first heat, I’d known it in my heart. They were supposed to be my mates.
Then they left me without a word—abandoned me.
Pain ratchets through my chest, and I jerk up to the surface. Seeing that we’re almost back to where I left my car, I dive back down and swim like a dolphin possessed.
I shouldn’t be out here with them. I shouldn’t feel comfortable with them.
They left me and broke my heart.
What the hell am I doing?
When the water becomes too shallow for my beluga, I shift back. Stalking out of the water, I head for where I left my clothes.
Beside them are four other sets of clothes. I don’t have to guess whose they are as Aidan, Ty, Oliver, and Carter climb out of the water behind me.
Tears fill my eyes as the wrenching pain in my chest grows sharper. I try to blink them away, not wanting them to see how much they affect me, but I can’t seem to stop them as they spill down my cheeks.
“Lila,” Ty murmurs softly, stopping behind me but not touching me. “Please don’t cry.”
Reaching down to grab my dress, I pull it over my head before turning to face them as they pull on their own clothes.
Ty is holding his pants but hasn’t tried to put them on yet. His eyes lock on me, the pain in them crystal clear as he begs me to hear him out.
My hand lifts as if to grab at my chest as the pain worsens, but I jerk it to a stop.
I might not be able to hide my tears from them, but I can hide just how much seeing them hurts me.
How much seeing Ty in pain affects me.
“We just want to talk.” Aidan’s voice is soft as he approaches me, but I step back and shake my head. He runs a hand down his chest, still shirtless, as he shakes his head.
“No.” My hands close into fists. “I don’t have to listen to you or your excuses. Just because you want to talk doesn’t mean I want to talk to you. Whatever you have to say? I’m not ready to hear it, and you need to respect that. ”
Ty nods slowly, a tear slipping down his cheek. “You’re right. We do. I’m sorry.”
Another wrenching pain hits me when his voice cracks at the end of his apology.
The other men might be hurt, but none of them show it outwardly like Ty, and I’m thankful for that.
It’s hard enough watching Ty in pain. Watching tears fall down his cheeks as he stares at me, pain radiating from him.
It makes me want to be weak—to give in. To listen to what they have to say.
Anything to take away Ty’s pain.
But that’s not right. It’s not fair to me.
My pain matters, too.
“Will you ever be ready to hear what we have to say?” This time, it’s Carter who speaks, his massive arms crossed over his bare chest.
My eyes are drawn to the tattoos running over his chest and arms. I can’t see his back, but I’m sure there are more there. He’s added to them in the last ten years.
There’s one on his left pec that I can’t seem to look away from—it’s a beluga surrounded by flowers.
Why would he tattoo a beluga on himself when he’d abandoned me ?
It makes no sense.
Nothing about this makes any sense.
“I don’t know,” I finally admit. “But I’m definitely not right now.”
My eyes jump around the group of men, watching as they each deflate. But it’s Ty I can’t look away from.
He turns his back on me, his shoulders shaking as he folds in on himself.
This time, I can’t help lifting my hand to my chest.
He’s hurting so much.
I take a step toward him before I remember myself. I shake my head as I step back. “I can’t do this.”
Though it feels like my heart is breaking all over again, I turn my back on them and sprint to my car.
I stumble more than once on the dry sand, unable to really see through my tears.
I have to get away from them. Now.
I fumble with the keys, dropping them twice before I get the door unlocked and climb inside. Hitting the button to start it, I tear out of the parking lot without bothering to put on my seat belt .
The car beeps at me, but I ignore it as I grip the wheel and lean forward in my seat. I try to brush away my tears with my shoulder, but they’re quickly replaced with more.
Should I be driving in this condition? Probably not, but I need to put as much distance between them and me as possible.
I’ve lived here my entire life, so I know these roads like the back of my hand. I should be able to make it home without too many problems—even if I can barely make out anything through my tears.
What I really should do is pull over and call Wyatt, but I really don’t want to listen to him tell me, “I told you so,” again.
Nor do I want to hurt him any more than I already did today.
Is this who I’ve become? A woman who just hurts those around her in an attempt to keep her heart safe?
I hate that the answer is yes. I hate that this is who I’ve become.
This is who they made me become.
Releasing the steering wheel with one hand, I dash away the tears from my eyes once more.
“Oh, fuck,” I scream as a horn blares, jerking my wheel to the right to avoid running headlong into a semi-truck, whose lane I was driving in.
I lose control of the car as it hits a puddle from the overnight rain, spinning out as it hydroplanes. I hit the brakes, trying to slow the car, but I don’t know how fast I was even going. I don’t have time to do anything else but hold on as I head straight for a tree on the side of the road.
I really wish I would’ve worn my seat belt.
With that thought, the car barrels into the tree, and I’m knocked unconscious.