Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Grady
My stomach rumbles as the scent of chicken parmesan reaches me before I even knock.
Through the glass, I catch sight of Emily at the stove while Jared sets the table. My stomach growls as I lift my knuckles to the door, but my chest tightens at the same time.
It’s the same cottage, the same Saturday dinner I’ve been coming to for months. But it’s different tonight.
The door swings open before my knuckles connect, and Emily breaks into a smile that warms her gray eyes. “Right on time. Come in before you freeze.”
I step over the threshold into the wall of heat from the fireplace. “Brought wine.” I hold up the bottle of expensive red sent by my father as a Christmas gift. “Seemed like a night for the good stuff.”
“I’ll open it to breathe.” As she takes the bottle, our fingers brush, and the brief contact sends a pulse through me that I try not to examine.
Jared straightens from the table. “Hey, man. Thought you might bail on us tonight.”
“And miss Emily’s chicken parmesan? Not a chance.” I shrug out of my coat, hanging it on the hook that’s become mine over these past months.
My attention catches on the empty hook beside it, the one where Leif’s jacket used to hang. Now it sits bare, a small negative space that shouldn’t register at all, but does.
Emily opens the wine bottle and passes it off to Jared before she returns to the stove to stir the marinara. “It’s almost ready. Just needs another minute.”
“Anything I can do?” I ask, the familiar question part of our Saturday ritual.
“Pour the wine?” Jared suggests, grabbing three glasses from the cabinet.
I busy myself while watching Emily and Jared orbit each other in the kitchen. They move in perfect synchronization, with no hesitation when their paths cross or awkward shuffle when they reach for the same drawer.
“Any news?” I pour the wine, the liquid catching the light from overhead.
Emily and Jared exchange a heavy look.
“Blake called today,” Emily says, pouring pasta into a colander already set up in the sink. “Leif’s joined the Wright Pack. The registration went through yesterday.”
Chloe had told me when they made the offer, but I wasn’t sure the Omega would take them up on it.
“That’s good, right?” I set the bottle on a cloth napkin to catch any drips. “Being part of a pack gives him protection.”
“It’s great,” Jared agrees, but the tension beneath the words says there’s more.
Emily adds pasta to plates, tops them with golden-brown chicken breasts smothered in cheese, and ladles marinara on top.
“It will be good for Quinn to have him close by.” She sets the plates on the table. “Not sure he’ll get much peace, though, now that he’s within walking distance.”
I take my seat, the chair legs scraping across the hardwood. “Have you seen him?”
“No,” Emily says, focusing on her plate.
“I see him in the morning and afternoon, on the boat crossings to take Quinn to school.” Jared passes the bread basket. “We don’t talk much, though.”
“Well, to Leif’s new beginning,” I say, raising my glass.
They lift theirs in return, a quiet clink in the warm kitchen.
“To new beginnings,” Emily echoes.
The chicken tastes as delicious as it smells, rich and spiced with rosemary and oregano. We eat in companionable silence for a while, the clink of forks on plates punctuated by occasional comments about the food or the weather.
“Carson’s resignation was accepted,” I say after a lull. “The board announced it in a special bulletin. They’re bringing in someone from Seattle to finish the school year.”
Emily’s shoulders relax a fraction. “Good. Quinn won’t have to deal with him ever again.”
“What about you?” Jared asks, tearing a piece of bread in half. “Any exciting new articles in the works?”
I swirl the wine in my glass as I tell them about the new piece that’s been occupying my mind.
As I speak, Emily reaches for her water glass, her shoulder brushing Jared’s with a casual intimacy that sends a pang of envy through me.
I’m happy for them, but their closeness highlights what I’m not a part of.
“You okay?” Jared asks, catching my expression.
I plaster on a smile. “Just thinking about a deadline coming up.”
Emily studies me over the rim of her glass, too perceptive to buy the excuse.
I take another bite of chicken to avoid elaborating. “This is amazing, by the way.”
She accepts the deflection with grace. “Secret is in the red chili flakes.”
The conversation shifts to Emily’s construction work, Jared’s adventures with the water taxi, and my gossip about the Wright Pack that doesn’t include Leif. It’s comfortable. Pleasant. But underneath, something is shifting.
As dinner winds down, Emily and Jared clean up together, bumping into each other as they do the dishes. He says something too low for me to catch, and she laughs, the sound warm in a way I haven’t heard since before Leif walked away from them.
I stay in my seat at the table, both a part of this scene and separate from it. They welcome me, include me, value me, but what’s growing between them exists in a realm I can’t access.
“Want to watch a movie?” Jared asks, drying his hands on a dish towel.
“Sure,” I say, because saying no would mean giving up on something precious. “As long as it’s not another one of your sci-fi disasters.”
He grins. “Hey, Space Mutants 3 was a masterpiece of modern cinema.”
“It was trash, and you know it,” Emily counters with affection rather than judgment.
We settle on the couch, with Emily in the middle, Jared’s arm draped behind her shoulders.
As the opening credits roll, I tell myself that being here, being welcome, is enough. I’m in their lives even if I’m on the outside of what they’re building together.
Mixie jumps onto my lap, kneading my legs before settling into a purring ball of fur. I stroke her back, grateful for the simple comfort.
Halfway through the movie, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I ignore it until the vibration comes again. When I fish it out of my pocket, my father’s name glows on the screen, along with an alert of three missed calls, two voicemails, and one text message.
Father
We need to discuss the Bennett arrangement. Call tonight.
My stomach contracts, acid climbing my throat.
Emily glances over. “Everything okay?”
“Just family stuff.” I slip the phone back into my pocket, where it sits like a stone. “Nothing urgent.”
She doesn’t push, but her attention lingers before returning to the movie. On her other side, Jared gently strokes her shoulder.
I try to focus on the screen, where someone is explaining a complicated plan involving explosives and mistaken identities, but my father’s message echoes in my head.
The Bennett arrangement. Like it’s a business deal rather than my future.
When my phone buzzes again, I excuse myself and use my cane to leverage myself off the couch. I step into the kitchen, where the light over the stove casts everything in soft amber. My phone buzzes with another text as I pull it from my pocket.
Father
Caroline asked about you again at the foundation dinner. Her father is expecting an answer by the end of the month.
Your mother suggests you fly home next weekend to discuss terms.
Terms. Like I’m negotiating a contract instead of considering spending my life with someone I’ve only met twice.
Caroline Bennett is tall, elegant, and, according to my parents, an appropriate match for the son of Richard Finch, Senior Partner at Finch & Wrenford, a private contract and compliance firm.
The perfect Beta wife for the perfect Beta son who will take over the family business.
When I set off for university, it was to gain the educational backing the board required, even though I’d grown up working in my father’s office, learning the ropes firsthand.
Then I’d met Chloe, and my life had taken a turn. I never told her about my family connections, wanting her to like me for myself and not for the connections my family could bring. Then, over the years, it started to feel like I could forge my own future.
Diving into the world of publishing contracts and media influence had been allowed by my parents because it was good experience, but they’d always expected me to return to the family fold when it was time.
My protest that I had no interest in taking over the family firm had fallen on deaf ears. I was in my rebellious phase, but I would “do what’s right” when the time came.
I just didn’t expect it to come so soon. My father is years away from retirement. So what changed?
I return to the living room. “I’m sorry, I need to go. Early morning tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Jared protests. “We thought you’d be staying the night. The guest room is set up.”
“I appreciate it, but not tonight. Thanks for dinner,” I tell Emily as I head to the door and pull on my jacket. “As always, you outdid yourself.”
She rises to walk me to the door, Jared following.
“Are you sure you won’t stay? The roads are icy at night,” Emily says as I step onto the porch. “You’re always welcome here.”
The words fill me with a yearning I have no right to. “I know. Thank you.”
The door closes behind me, and I stand for a moment on the porch, watching my breath cloud in the cold.
Through the window, I watch Emily lean into Jared’s side as they head back to the couch, his hand resting on the small of her back.
My phone buzzes again, and without checking, I know it’s my father, impatient for an answer he believes should be simple.
Go home.
Take your place.
Build the life you were raised to want.
My phone buzzes a third time, persistent with the pull of obligation. I should answer. I should arrange to fly east next weekend. Since I’m not Chloe’s agent anymore, there’s nothing to stop me from stepping into the future my parents mapped for me before I could walk.
The night air cuts through my jacket as I head to my car, my cane tapping on the stone path, while behind me, the cottage glows with everything I don’t know how to claim.
Alphas and Omegas form bonds deeper than friendship, deeper than choice. They build packs.
Betas build lives somewhere else. We make rational choices. Advantageous arrangements.
We accept what we can have and let go of what we can’t.
I should walk away from Pinecrest before I become any more attached.
I just haven’t figured out how to make myself want to go.
The End…