Page 25 of Claimed By the Goalie Alpha
I went to work. I walked dogs. I came home and sat on the couch and didn't turn on the TV. My phone stayed on the coffee table and I kept checking it even though I'd told Renard I'd be the one to call. Part of me wanted him to break that promise and just show up, which was unfair since I'd asked for space.
Rita noticed. She didn't say anything the first day but by the second afternoon she set a cup of tea on my desk and said, "Whatever it is, it'll sort itself out." I nearly cried again, which was becoming a pattern.
At night I lay in bed and my thoughts were running through the same loop. The wolf in the stream was beautiful and terrifying. The partial shift was neither. Renard standing in the water afterward, devastated, saying my name.
And then the park. His voice cracked when he'd said his wolf would die before hurting me.
I believed him. That was the part I kept circling back to. Despite everything, despite the impossibility of what he was, I believed him.
On Wednesday evening, Marshall let himself in with the spare key I regretted giving him.
"Right." He dropped a pizza box on my coffee table and stood over me with his arms crossed. "Talk. You haven't answered a group text in four days. Rita texted me. She never texts me. Shedoesn't even like me." He sat down beside me. "What happened with the goalie?"
I took a slice of pizza because I hadn't eaten since lunch and my hands needed something to do. "We had a fight. Sort of. He told me something about himself that I wasn't ready for."
"What?"
This was where it got impossible. I couldn't tell Marshall the truth. It wasn't mine to share and even if it was, how would that conversation go? "Hey, so Renard transforms into a large predatory animal, but he's really sweet about it."
"Something personal. About his past and his family." The lie felt terrible. "It caught me off guard and I reacted badly and left."
Marshall winced. "Okay. Was what he told you a dealbreaker?"
"No." That came out immediately and with a certainty that surprised me.
"Then what's the problem?"
I chewed the pizza and tried to find words that were honest without being specific. "It changes how I see him. Or it should. There's this whole side of him that's different from what I thought, and I don't know if I can handle it. I can't explain it. Not because I don't trust you but because it's his thing to tell, not mine."
Marshall picked up his own slice. "Okay. I'll respect that. But can I ask one question?"
"Sure."
"When you picture your life six months from now, is he in it?"
The answer was instant. Even with the wolf, the fear and the impossibility of it all, I couldn't imagine going back to before Renard, the park and the tangled leashes.
"Yeah," I said. "He is."
"Then you already know what to do." He bumped my shoulder with his. "You're just scared."
"I'm terrified."
"Same thing. Eat your pizza."
We watched a terrible movie and Marshall didn't bring it up again. When he left, he paused at the door.
"For what it's worth, I've never seen you like this about anyone. Whatever he told you, whatever's different about him, it hasn't changed how you feel. That means something."
After he left I stood at the kitchen counter and turned my phone over in my hands. Renard's name sat in my contacts. Missed calls, voicemails I still hadn't listened to, and unread texts that I'd been avoiding.
I opened the texts.
The first few were desperate.
Julian, please. Just let me know you're safe.
The middle ones were quieter.
