Chapter 81
Chapter Eighty-One
Robin
The sky starts to get dark, and the lights flicker on around the garden as Shayne and I walk around the path, hand in hand. He’s only a few inches taller than I am, and he has such a friendly, disarming energy that I can’t help but like him.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he has the classic good looks of a leading man from a romantic movie. His skin has a sun-kissed healthy glow, and his bright blue eyes sparkle when he talks.
“This doesn’t feel real,” I blurt, feeling my face warm when I realize I just spoke my thoughts out loud.
Oh no. That was so dumb. I’m such an idiot!
He stops walking and I’m almost afraid to look at him.
I stand still and his fingers slip out of mine.
He moves to face me, his gaze steady.
“What doesn’t feel real?” he asks, his tone curious.
“I don’t know. This. Us. Everything.” I try to laugh, but I can’t force the sound out of my body.
My eyes get watery instead, and, suddenly, it’s hard to catch my breath.
I don’t understand what’s happening to me.
“It’s okay,” Shayne says softly, his arm going around me. “If this is all too much, too soon, I understand. All of us understand. We can be here whenever you need us, but we don’t have to be here right now if you need time.”
His soothing voice helps me to calm my breathing, but the waterworks have started, and I don’t know how to switch that tap off. Tears roll down my cheeks, and they just keep coming.
He’s holding me close, and I’m soaking the shoulder of his shirt.
I can’t find the will to move away, and I can’t find any words to explain.
The only sound that comes out when I open my mouth is a choked sob.
“It’s okay,” Shayne murmurs, stroking my back. “You’re okay.”
I am, and I know it. I’m in a place where I have everything I could ever possibly want.
The people here have been so kind to me.
The doctors saved my life.
And yet here I am, standing in the beautiful gardens, weeping against the shoulder of an Alpha who wants me to be part of his pack.
The whole world is at my feet, and I don’t know how to accept it.
I move back from Shayne, swaying a little as I try to find my balance.
He keeps hold of my arm, as if he’s afraid to let go.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, starting to wipe at the tears with the sleeve of my sweater.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he assures me.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I start, clearing my throat.
I’m still crying. I can’t seem to make myself stop.
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Shayne says, keeping his gaze steady. “You’ve been through complex trauma. That has an effect. It’s okay to be emotional.”
“It doesn’t feel okay,” I admit, not liking the way my voice sounds when it cracks.
“How does it feel?” he asks.
“It feels … like everything is wrong.”
“And that’s not how everything is, right?”
He nods at me, and I nod back, without even thinking.
“Right,” I whisper. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I frown at him, but the moment I ask myself the question, my heart sinks.
“No,” I murmur. “I’m not.”
“What’s wrong, Robin?”
“He’s not suffering.”
“Who’s not suffering?”
“Ivan Hamilton. He killed my mother, and he kept me captive, and he’s waiting for sentencing. If the police don’t find a body, they can’t lock him away for murder. He’ll get away with the worst thing he ever did.”