Chapter 33
ADAM
I was miserable.
Seeing Fletcher so broken, so betrayed? I felt like a monster, but my father had me on a tight leash. I couldn’t afford to fuck this up. I hadn’t figured out what I was going to do yet, but I was hoping there was still time.
For now? I simply needed to play by Father’s rules for a little while. Play his game and let the pieces fall where they may, even if my lover’s rejection stung like alcohol on an open wound.
Salvatora was an upscale Mexican restaurant that my parents took us to frequently, growing up.
They had the best homemade chips and salsa—though my mother always came for their bottomless margaritas.
By the time we walked out the door, she was three sheets to the wind and Father had to help her into the car, a scowl on his face as he lectured her for being “sloppy in public.”
Kind of ironic that Father would choose this place for my first date with my future wife. I almost cringed at the thought. Wife. I’d never even met this woman, and to be told I would be wed to her by summertime?
Knowing my father, he’d pull out all the stops on a beachside wedding and it would be perfect—because Sinclairs were perfect, after all—and as I stood there, exchanging vows with a woman I would never love, all I would want was to climb into a hole and hide from the world.
I sucked down a deep breath and composed myself. You can do this Adam. Think positive. She can’t be worse than that Jennifer girl, right? God, I hoped not…
I parked and got out of the vehicle, hitting the lock button on my keyfob twice. The headlights flashed, telling me it was locked. I pocketed my keys and went inside, my gaze scouring the crowd in search of a young female Omega who smelled faintly of wolf and the moon.
And just as Father promised, Aria Winters was waiting for me at a table for two, the menus set as placeholders and two glasses of ice water already sitting there, waiting for us. Hers had a straw sticking out of it.
When I approached, she stood to face me, and I had to give Father credit, she was stunning.
The Omega was small and petite, with gentle curves and willowy limbs.
Her pale skin was like porcelain, giving her the appearance of a china doll, with the makeup painted on her face, her big blue eyes, and the waves of jet-black curls cascading around her shoulders.
She was gorgeous—but she wasn’t Fletcher.
I swallowed my nausea and offered a hand. “Hey. You must be Aria. I’m Adam. It’s nice to meet you.”
She smiled, soft and submissive. “It’s so good to put a face with a name,” she said in a velveteen voice, tucking some hair behind one ear.
“My father speaks very highly of you. Please, sit. Join me. I hope you don’t mind, I already ordered us drinks.
I know some Alphas consider that to be too forward. ”
“No, it’s perfectly okay,” I assured her, pulling out my chair. “Have you been here before? It’s one of my favorites.”
She beamed. “I have, and I agree. They have the best staff, too, and my food has always been perfectly cooked. What do you normally order? Color me curious.”
I didn’t bother picking up the menu. “Depends on my mood. Some days I choose the steak and shrimp fajitas, some days I like the carne asada with a side of chorizo queso.” I hummed.
“I think tonight, though, I’m feeling a grilled chicken chimichanga…
and perhaps we could split a fried ice cream for dessert? ”
All through dinner, I tried my best to be a gentleman, to be the noble prince my parents raised me to be, but deep down, sorrow and anger drove my inner-wolf to pace and growl.
Aria seemed sweet, she truly did. She was bright and bubbly, yet soft and submissive, like Father had said. Yet, she seemed like an Omega who spoke her mind.
Honestly, I didn’t know what I could do to make things right. Could I truly marry this woman? Have children with her, heirs to the Silverthorn pack, just to make my parents happy?
All while Fletcher was my dirty laundry, kept up in some apartment across the city, where I visited him twice a week? What kind of life was that? It wasn’t fucking fair. None of this was fair!
I took another bite, scooping a bit of Mexican rice onto my spoon along with the fried tortilla and chicken. I could feel Aria watching me, her eyes luminous beneath the yellow dome-glass lamp hanging pendulous above our heads.
“You’re quiet,” she murmured.
Damn it… I swallowed and shook my head, wiping my mouth with the corner of a napkin. “I’m sorry, Aria. I’ve got a lot on my mind tonight, is all,” I told her. “My father springing this on me so suddenly was not on my bingo card for this month. Hell, for this year.”
She frowned, tilting her head. “Your father?”
“He’s the one who wants us to get married,” I admitted. Might as well be honest with her. It may not win me any sympathy points, but I didn’t want to lie to her face, either. “Honestly, I’m not ready to settle down, but Father is tired of me ‘wasting time’ so he’s decided my fate for me.”
“Oh.” She seemed surprised, like things like this didn’t happen in her world. Still, I felt kind of like an asshole anyway. Here she was, thinking she’d found prince charming and I go and blow the lid right off.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, setting my fork down on the side of my plate with a soft clink of china. “You’re a nice girl. You’re very beautiful, and you seem like a lovely person. I just don’t know how much of myself I can give to you.”
“I understand, Adam. Really, I do. These things take time.” Then she smiled. “To be honest, the marriage agreement was only a formality on my father’s part. It looks good on paper, but if I’m not going to be happy in this marriage, then of course, I don’t have to go through with it.”
“So how about this…” She leaned forward. “We can start with texting, maybe talking on the phone once or twice a week. Get to know each other like we aren’t betrothed because remember, there is always an out.”
Bitterness surged within me, but I didn’t say what I felt: Maybe for you. “Okay,” I agreed. “I can manage that.”
“The wedding isn’t until next year, so that gives us plenty of time to get to know one another,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll hit it off and live happily-ever-after?” She winked, but I could tell it was just good-natured teasing.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
We finished up with dinner, making small talk. Most of it centered around our families and our packs. I was right—her pack was far different from Silverthorn, in every way imaginable. It seemed as if even Omegas had a say there.
I couldn’t help but feel envious of this young woman. How lucky she was, and she didn’t even know it.
After a shared bowl of fried ice cream, served in a cinnamon-sugar churro bowl and topped with syrups and whipped cream, I walked Aria to her car and bid her goodnight. We exchanged numbers, and then I drove home.
When I walked into the manor, the first thing I noticed was the fresh scent of clean linen. I sniffed the air. The house was dark, with only the light above the kitchen sink left on. I began flipping on lights to find that the place had been cleaned and tidied, but achingly empty.
Where was Fletcher? My heart ratcheted up into my throat, choking me as thoughts and fears hit me like a tidal wave of emotion. Where was he? God, please don’t say he had left. Not without a goodbye. My heart couldn’t take it.
“FLETCHER?!” I shouted, climbing the stairs two at a time. I flung the bedroom door open, but our bed was freshly made, the throw pillows arranged perfectly, as if no one lived here at all.
My stomach twisted. God, please… I spun around, flaring my nostrils to breathe the air, seeking out Fletcher’s sweet scent. I all but ran down the hall, choked with the tears that were threatening to make a guest appearance.
I half-expected to see the spare bedroom empty as well, but when I swung the door open, relief poured through my veins. There was Fletcher, curled up on his side wrapped in blankets, looking so damn sad.
My heart broke. “Thank god,” I whispered, hoarse. “God, Fletcher, I thought you’d left me.” He sniffled and shook his head, his eyes rimmed red and swollen from crying. “Aw, baby, come here…”
Not even bothering to shuck my suit-jacket or dress shoes, I crawled into bed with Fletcher and cradled the Omega to my chest. I kissed his tears away as they fell, saltwater droplets on his lashes.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I never meant for this to happen. I thought I had more time.”
“I love you.” Fletcher’s voice was tiny, but those three words made everything inside of me lock up nice and tight. My heart skipped a beat. Fletcher Rose loved me…
How had we never said those words before?
My voice cracked when I spoke. “I love you too, kitten,” I whispered, taking his chin between my fingers and angling his face up so that I could kiss him.
He melted into me, and I knew that I had to do something, or else I was going to lose the only person that ever truly mattered to me.