7. Past Hurts and Unknown Futures
Past Hurts and Unknown Futures
SUNANDA
I hadn’t seen him in over a week. A week of silence. No messages. No chance encounters. I had gone back to teaching, back to my routine. But every moment without him felt like something was missing, like a part of me had been ripped away and I wasn’t sure how to fill the hole.
I tried to push the thoughts of Mateo aside. I really did. But he was always there, lingering in the corner of my mind, just out of reach. I couldn’t forget that morning in the woods—the look in his eyes, desperate and raw, pleading for me to understand, to accept him. And I did.
I was still grappling with the weight of it all. He hadn’t been wrong when he told me he wanted me to be sure. I knew he was giving me space, allowing me time to process what he had confessed. But it didn’t make the silence any easier to bear.
He told me he wanted me to think things through, to really be sure about what I was agreeing to.
And I appreciated that—at least, part of me did.
He didn’t want to rush me into something I wasn’t ready for, but the truth was, I was never going to be ready.
How could I be? The idea of him—of us—felt like something torn out of a dark fairy tale.
A werewolf? My mate? Even though part of me had already accepted the impossible truth, the rest of me still didn’t know how to reconcile it with the life I had always known.
Truth of the matter was, the connection between us, no matter how strained, no matter how complicated, had always been there. I was still drawn to him.
That evening, after school, I found myself standing at the edge of the woods again.
The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the path I’d walked so many times.
The air had a crisp bite to it, the kind that signaled a change in the universe.
One step at a time, the path led me deeper into the woods, where I could almost feel him before I saw him.
It was the same magnetic force, something I no longer question.
And then, just as I rounded a bend, I saw him.
Mateo.
He was standing by the old oak tree, leaning against the trunk, his back rigid, his eyes focused on the horizon.
I stopped in my tracks, the breath catching in my throat at the sight of him.
“Mateo…” My voice cracked the silence, and he immediately turned, his expression unreadable. There was a flicker of rawness in his gaze, like he had been waiting for this moment—for me to possibly still reject him and leave for good.
“Sunanda,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.
I swallowed hard, unsure of what exactly to say.
There was so much between us now. I could still feel the sting of our last argument, the way I had left him after his confession, the way he so easily waited for me when I wanted to talk again.
Admittedly, I was a wreck of emotions, torn between the lost girl I used to be and the woman who had to decide what to do with all of this.
“You waited for me,” I said softly, almost to myself. The words slipped out before I could stop them.
“I’ve always waited,” Mateo said, stepping forward slowly. “Old habits die hard.”
I was captivated. It wasn’t just the history we shared. It was the way he looked at me, like he needed me, like he couldn’t breathe without me. There was a yearning that pulled me in deeper than I ever thought possible.
And maybe he did suffer. The thought made my chest tighten.
The idea that I was the cause of that pain, that the ignorance I’d carried all these years had hurt him in ways I couldn’t even comprehend, filled me with a quiet guilt I couldn’t shake.
I hadn’t known his truth or his world, lost in my own hurts and my own little bubble.
But now I did, and it weighed on me like a burden I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to carry.
But still, despite the guilt, despite the confusion, there was a growing warmth inside me whenever I thought of Mateo.
The more I allowed myself to feel, the more I realized even though I didn’t fully understand what it all meant yet, something instinctual already knew.
My heart had already begun to stake its claim.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “About… us. I don’t know how to walk away from the one person who has always been there for me. Even when I didn’t know.”
Mateo’s eyes sharpened on me, but he didn’t come closer. He stayed where he was, letting me speak, letting me come to my own conclusions.
“Do you think you can accept me for what I am?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his words like a thread between us, pulling me closer.
“I want to,” I admitted, the words tasting both foreign and freeing. “I’ve never been one to shy away from challenges, especially not when it’s something I’m willing to fight for.”
“I can’t promise you it’ll be easy,” he continued. “This life isn’t what anyone expects. But I can promise you one thing. I will always protect you. I will always be here. And I won’t leave you.”
His words cut through me like a blade. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. The truth was, I had always known. From the moment we’d met again, I had known, hadn’t I? I felt it. The connection. The bond. But I was too scared to admit it.
“Maybe that’s all I need to know,” I said softly, looking up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “Maybe… maybe that’s enough.”
He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took mine. There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where the weight of everything threatened to crush us both. But then he pulled me closer, and I let him.
“No more running,” he whispered, his forehead resting gently against mine.
The forest seemed to let out an exhale around us, relieved that we had found each other again. I didn’t know what the future held, or how we would survive the trials ahead. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel alone. I didn’t feel like I had to face it all by myself.
“I’m here, Mateo,” I whispered, the words a promise, a vow. “I came back. I didn’t know why, then. But I know why now.”
He cradled my face with his large, warm, calloused hands and leaned down to press his lips to mine. It started slow, almost tentative—like he was unsure, testing the waters, just as I was. The softness of it was like a question, a delicate invitation.
My heart hammered against my chest, wild and urgent, matching the rhythm of his touch. The kiss deepened, and there was a fierceness in the way our lips moved together—hungry, desperate, as if we’d both been holding back for so long that finally, letting go felt like an explosion.
His tongue brushed against mine, sending a shiver down my spine, and I leaned into him, pressing closer, needing to feel the full weight of him.
Every part of me seemed to spark alive, the overwhelming intensity of it clouding my thoughts, making everything else disappear.
His scent, the feel of his body, the heat that radiated from him—it was all consuming.
When we finally pulled apart, breathless and trembling, there was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward.
It was filled with an understanding that we’d both just crossed an invisible line.
His eyes searched mine, and in that quiet, electric space between us, I knew—this wasn’t just a kiss.
It was a promise. A promise that, despite everything, we had a chance. A chance to figure it out. Together.