Chapter 20 Willow
Willow
I shouldn't be nervous.
It’s just dinner. Just Landon. I hold back a snort…right…just Landon. My scent match, and the alpha who tore out my heart and stomped on it because he could.
What I shouldn’t be doing is this. Meeting him. Giving in to his request to talk. He doesn’t deserve a second of my time after what happened. But I’m still doing it.
My fingers tighten around the strap of my purse as I step out of the elevator and into the lobby, Hunter shadowing me, imitating the world's most intimidating storm cloud.
I exhale sharply, pushing down the flicker of something ridiculous—something almost akin to excitement. No. Absolutely not. I am not feeling excited about seeing Landon. I shove the feeling aside, stuffing it into the mental box labeled Things that didn’t end well last time, and lock it shut.
“Last chance to stay here,” I mutter, glancing at Hunter as we step outside.
“Not happening,” he rumbles, scanning the sidewalk as though a threat is going to pop out of a pothole.
I sigh. “You do realize I’m going to be having a private conversation, right? That will be hard to do with you sitting right next to me.”
He doesn’t even glance at me. “You do realize I don’t care?”
My lips press together. Asshole. I can’t believe I even wanted him to kiss me earlier. Hell, I wanted all three of them to answer that alpha call and make me forget all about the possible meeting with Landon. But they didn’t, so here we are.
The walk to the restaurant isn’t long, but with Hunter pacing beside me, it feels like miles. I should be focused on Landon—on what I’m going to say, on how I’m going to handle this. Instead, I’m hyper-aware of every single breath Hunter takes.
This is ridiculous.
The restaurant comes into view, and there he is.
He stands near the entrance, hands in his pockets, shifting slightly on his feet. His hair is shorter than it used to be, and there’s a tension in his shoulders he never used to carry.
The moment his eyes land on me, something flickers in them—relief, hope, hesitation.
I don’t let myself react to it.
Instead, I step right up to him, tilting my head to the side to study him. “Stalking me all the way to New York? Bold move, Romeo.”
His lips twitch, but his eyes drop briefly to the shadow at my back.
Landon’s jaw tightens. “So what, you have an attack dog now? You moved on fast.”
I moved on fast? I want to punch him in his too handsome face. Before him, one night stands were a normal occurrence, after…not one single man or woman has touched me the way he did.
Hunter steps closer, just enough that his presence presses against my back. “Say the wrong thing and I’ll show you exactly what kind of bite I have.”
Landon scoffs. “Guess I should be flattered you think I’m a threat.”
Hunter doesn’t respond.
I roll my eyes, stepping between them. “Boys, this is dinner, not a boxing match.” I throw a glance over my shoulder at Hunter. “And you—you are staying right here.”
Hunter stares me down, eyes dark, challenging. But he lets me turn away and doesn't follow me when I move to the door. “I’ll be watching.”
I sigh dramatically, pushing the door open. “Yeah, yeah. Big scary alpha watching the omega, we all get it.”
Landon chuckles under his breath, stepping inside after me.
The moment the waitress leaves, he leans back, watching me carefully. “You’re still the same.”
I arch a brow, plucking a chip from the basket and dipping it into salsa. Act unaffected. Don’t react. “You’re not.”
His lips press together, his hands clasping on the table. “No. I’m not.”
The weight behind his words pulls something tight in my chest. I don’t want to feel bad for him. I don’t. But damn it, something’s different.
He exhales, running a hand down his face before looking at me again. “I owe you the truth and an apology.”
I pop the chip into my mouth, feigning indifference. “Yeah, you do.”
His throat bobs. Nervous. He should be.
“Dee—” he starts, then stops, blowing out a sharp breath. “What you saw…I knew you were watching. I did it on purpose.”
A knife twists in my chest. I knew this already. But hearing it? Confirming it? Is he here to break me even more? Maybe make the piece he shattered before become dust instead?
I reach for another chip, something to keep my hands busy, my mouth occupied, so I don’t say something I’ll regret. Something that will cut too deep.
Landon leans forward. “I was scared, Willow. I was stupid, and I was scared, and when I saw how much you believed in us—how much you trusted me—” He breaks off, shaking his head. “I panicked.”
I grip the edge of the table. “So you kissed another girl?”
“I knew you’d leave if I did,” he says quietly. “I knew you’d never look back.”
A sharp, bitter laugh spills from my lips. “Congrats, then. It worked.”
His eyes squeeze shut. “Yeah. It did.”
The food arrives, but I barely notice. My stomach is too tight and uneasy.
Landon lifts his gaze, something broken behind his eyes. “It was a mistake. A really stupid mistake. I didn’t come after you because I thought I’d already done enough damage. That I owed you your freedom.” His voice drops. “But I never stopped loving you.”
Something deep inside me cracks wide open. My fingers tighten around my fork. My pulse pounds in my ears. I am not ready for this conversation. But I can’t look away from him either.
Landon’s waiting. Waiting for me to say something. And I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to say.
What can I say to that?
I shake my head, my grip tightening on my fork, my throat constricting around every sharp-edged emotion clawing its way up. Denying his words.
“What you did—” My voice is quiet but edged, raw. “That’s not love, Landon.” My eyes snap to his, flashing with something just as wounded as it is furious. “It isn’t even in the same universe as love.”
Landon flinches, my words hitting hard. Good. Because he needs to feel exactly how much he broke me.
His hands curl into fists on the table, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then I’ll prove it.”
I scoff—low and bitter. “Now?” My voice trembles, disbelief woven through every syllable. “Now you want to prove it? After—” I can’t even finish my sentence; pain makes my throat thick and clogged. I don’t think I can do this. The guys were right.
He lifts his head, eyes meeting mine. Tired, bloodshot, holding the proof that he hasn’t slept since I left—and that something inside him shattered too. “I never stopped loving you, Willow.”
“Then where the hell were you?” I whisper. My chest cracks open, everything spilling out. “Where were you when I was in heat and the mark you left on me was fading so fast I thought it would take me with it? When I couldn’t breathe? When I couldn’t move from the pain?”
“I—” he starts, then swallows hard. “I didn’t know it would hit you like that.”
“You didn’t ask.” The words are poison on my tongue. “You didn’t even try to contact me before.”
His eyes close, his face looking pained and as if he’s trying to block it all out, but it’s too late. He’s here now. He sees what’s left.
“I thought giving you space was the right thing.”
“No,” I cut in. “You thought not dealing with it was the easier thing.”
He looks wrecked—completely undone—and it still isn’t enough. It can’t be. Not after what I went through.
“I saw you kiss her,” I continue. “You let me see it. And the worst part? I waited for you. Even after that. Some pathetic part of me still believed you’d come after me.”
“I should have.” His voice breaks. “I should’ve gotten on a plane the second you left. I should’ve—”
“But you didn’t,” I force out through a throat full of splinters. “And I laid there, clutching a pillow that didn’t smell of you, wondering how the hell I ever thought a love that fleeting could be real. How a single whirlwind week could ever last forever.”
He reaches out, hand hovering, wanting to take mine. I pull back.
“I know I hurt you,” he says. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just—I need you to know I’m not here for closure. I’m here because I still feel it. All of it. Every damn second without you has been hell.”
I look at him, and it would be easier if I didn’t still feel it too.
If his voice didn’t still sound like home.
If my body didn’t remember what it was to be his.
But that’s the cruel part about love. It doesn’t leave when it should.
It holds on long after a relationship is beyond repair.
Long after you stop believing in fairytales and happy endings.
I blink back tears. “You should’ve fought for me.”
“I’m here now.”
I nod once, almost to myself. “Too late.”
His gaze hardens with resolve. “I don’t care if you never take me back, Willow. I don’t care if you never forgive me. But you’re wrong about one thing.” He leans forward, determination shining in his eyes. “You will see that I love you.”
I push back from the table so fast the chair legs screech. I can’t breathe. I need out. Through the window, I meet Hunter’s gaze. One look is all it takes. Before I even reach the door, he’s moving.
The moment I step outside, Hunter opens his arms for me. No words. No questions. Just pure, unshakable understanding. I bury my face against his chest, his scent wrapping around and comforting me. Because I might be running, but I don’t want to be alone.