Chapter 42
Korbin
This is my fault. Not all of it, but enough that I feel like it’s up to me to make it right.
Lincoln moves toward her again, signing something soft, but she flinches like her body is waiting for bad news. Milton tries to reach for her right after, gentle voice, steady hands. I stand behind them both, jaw clenched so tight I hear a tiny crack in my own teeth.
I can’t do this with an audience. I can’t say what I need to say with Milton’s soft eyes or Lincoln’s guilt hovering around us like smoke.
So I step forward.
“Bayleigh,” I say. “Come here.”
I don’t touch her right away. I keep my hands at my sides, palms open. She looks between the three of us before her gaze lands on me. There’s hesitation there. Her eyes are wide, blinking slowly, her breath catching before it reaches her chest. Her fingers curl in on themselves.
She still comes.
That alone knocks the breath out of me.
I lead her a few steps away from the porch, into the side yard where the motion light isn’t as bright, but still gives enough light she can see my face.
It’s quiet here. Just us. Just the ache between us.
I hear movement behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Milton shift like he wants to follow, but Lincoln catches his hoodie and shakes his head.
I turn toward her. Her hair is messy, and her cheeks blotchy from crying. Her mouth trembles as if she’s bracing for a hit.
I take one long breath. If I don’t say this now, then I never will.
“I messed things up,” I start. “With you. With Benton. With myself.”
Her eyes widen, the faintest twitch in her jaw. She’s listening.
Good.
“I haven’t done right by you. Not since the night we met.
Not since you fell asleep on our couch. Not even today, when you thought we went behind your back.
” I place my hands on my hips because if I don’t ground them somewhere, I might reach for her too soon.
“I let the shit I’ve been carrying for years get in the way.
I didn’t mean to. But that’s the truth.”
She swallows, and her throat works around the motion like the words are caught there.
“Why?” she asks.
It breaks me because I know she’s not asking why I messed up. She’s asking why she wasn’t enough for me to try harder. Why wasn't she enough for me to trust her with the truth from the start.
I step closer to show her the sincerity in my eyes as I say the next words.
“Because the moment I realized I was falling for you, everything in me panicked.”
Her breath catches.
“I haven’t trusted myself since Gina. You know some of that story.
Not all of it. She played games with me and Benton.
Manipulated us both. Lied to each of us about the other.
I walked into a relationship thinking she cared about me.
Benton walked into one thinking she cared about him.
She used us against each other and walked away clean. It made us both look like fools.”
Bayleigh’s brows knit together. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not,” I say. “But I let it rot inside me. I let it control everything. I let it make me think the world would fall apart if I cared about someone again.”
A sound leaves her, something tiny and tight, and she presses a fist to her chest like she is trying to hold herself together.
I keep going. I owe her this.
“When I heard your voice, it did something to me. Something I didn’t know how to handle.
It was this punch of softness and strength, and I felt something in me pull toward you before I even had time to think.
Then you hugged me. And everything in me…
snapped. In a good way. In a terrifying way.
I wanted to protect you. I wanted to be the one you trusted. I wanted everything.”
Her breath is shaking now. Her eyes shine.
“But the second I wanted you, I panicked, and I fell right back into old habits. Instinct took over. Fear took over. All that bullshit I thought I had dealt with came clawing up.”
She sighs, small and hesitant. “You hurt me. You should have told me about this meeting. So I was at least prepared. Seeing it was like a slap to the face.”
The words land like a blow.
“I know,” I say quietly. “I know. And I am not expecting forgiveness tonight. I just need you to understand that it wasn’t because I didn’t want you.
It was because I wanted you too much and didn’t trust myself not to ruin it.
And we kinda thought it would be a fun surprise to tell you we’re a real pack now.
The meeting…we just wanted to get it over with and turn them down. What we told you is the truth.”
A tear slides down her cheek. I reach up, slow enough for her to see my hand coming, and wipe it with the back of my knuckle. Her breath trembles.
She doesn’t pull away.
I steady myself.
“There’s something else,” I say. “I need to talk to Benton.”
She blinks, startled.
“I’m done letting old shit decide how I act.
I’m done letting Gina haunt what could be good.
I’m talking to him. Man to man. It’s time we bury this once and for all.
Because I’m not dragging that into whatever this becomes.
You deserve better than two grown men shooting each other death glares from across a kitchen table. ”
Her lips part. “Thank you,” she says, and the way she looks at me while she does it… I have never felt a hit so direct to the chest.
I breathe in her scent. Mint and green tea, soft and sharp, threaded with the last remnants of stress and heartbreak. It mixes with the shaky hope rising off her and wraps around me.
I step forward. She rises onto her toes without even thinking. I cup her cheek and tilt her chin up. Her eyes flutter.
And then her mouth meets mine.
The kiss hits like the first inhale after nearly drowning. It is warm and hesitant, but it holds something that nearly buckles my knees. Her lips move against mine with a mix of relief and want. My hand slides to the back of her neck. Her fingers curl lightly into my hoodie.
Heat flares through my spine. Every instinct inside me roars to life.
I pull back before I lose control, my breath shuddering against her forehead.
“Not like this,” I whisper. “Not tonight. I want our first time to be when you’re not hurting. When you’re not questioning everything.”
She looks up at me with that soft, stunned expression that destroys me. Her cheeks are flushed. Her lips are pink and kiss-bitten.
“Okay.”
I drag a thumb across her cheekbone, soaking in the warmth there.
“I want you,” I say. “I’m not hiding it anymore. But when we do this, it’s going to be right. You deserve that.”
She swallows and nods, eyes shining in the porch light.
I walk her back toward the others, but her hand stays in mine the entire time. Her fingers are small, warm, steady. By the time we reach Milton and Lincoln, her scent has shifted completely. No fear or panic.
Something new… for us.
And as she steps toward them, looking up at all three of us with hope instead of heartbreak, I feel it settle like a promise deep in my bones.
Bayleigh Lennox is our omega.