Page 19 of Fat Betrayed Mate
"Complete with reindeer antlers," I confirm.
A small, reluctant smile curves her lips. "I would pay to see that."
"I'm sure Luna would be happy to show you the preliminary designs. She's very proud of her handiwork."
The tension eases fractionally as we slip into safer topics—pack gossip, changes to the town, Ruby's promotion to head of the community outreach program. It's nothing substantial, nothing that bridges the chasm between us, but it's something. A brief respite from the storm of our shared past.
"Remember old Elder Marcus?" I ask. "The one who got stuck in that pine tree during the spring festival?"
Fiona's laugh—a sound I haven't heard in six years—catches us both by surprise. "Because he was chasing that raccoon that stole his ceremonial headpiece?"
"Exactly. Well, he's dating Mrs. Hendricks now."
"The kindergarten teacher?" Fiona shakes her head, still smiling. "I never would have matched those two."
"Apparently, they bonded over their mutual love of bird-watching."
"That's... actually sweet."
Our eyes meet across the table, and for a moment—just a moment—it feels like before. Before Edward's threats, before my betrayal, before six years of heartache and separation. Just Thomas and Fiona, sharing a joke, enjoying each other's company.
I find myself leaning closer, drawn by an invisible thread that has always connected us. Her scent envelops me—stronger now with the rain and close quarters—and my wolf surges toward the surface, recognizing what it lost years ago.
Fiona's eyes widen slightly, her pulse visibly quickening at her throat. For one breathless second, I think she might be feeling it too—this pull that defies logic and time and hurt.
Then she jerks back, the spell broken.
"Don't," she says sharply. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I wasn't—" I begin, confused by her sudden shift.
"Yes, you were," she cuts in, eyes flashing. "You were looking at me like... like you still have the right to. Like six years of nothing just disappears because we had one civil conversation."
"I'm sorry," I say, meaning it. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"Well, you did." She stands abruptly, moving to the window, putting distance between us. "This is exactly why I didn't want to be stuck here with you. You think one moment of nostalgia changes anything? It doesn't."
"I know that," I say quietly.
Fiona turns back to face me, arms folded defensively across her chest. "Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you seem to have conveniently forgotten that you're the one who ended things. You're the one who decided I wasn't worth fighting for."
The accusation lands like a physical blow. If only she knew how hard I fought—in the only way I could—to keep her safe.
"It wasn't that simple," I say, the closest I've come to the truth in six years.
"It seemed pretty simple to me," she snaps. "One day, we were planning a future; the next, you couldn't get rid of me fast enough. No explanation, no goodbye, just 'this was never serious, Fiona.' Clear as day."
Every word twists the knife deeper. I want to tell her everything—about her father's threats, about the impossible choice I faced, about how walking away from her was the hardest thing I've ever done. But the fear that kept me silent then still grips me now. If Edward found out, I'd told her...
"I made mistakes," I say instead, inadequate but honest. "I hurt you. I know that."
"Hurt me?" She laughs, a brittle sound. "You destroyed me, Thomas. And now we're stuck in this nightmare lottery, andeveryone's watching and whispering and betting on whether I'll be able to stomach completing the trials with the man who broke my heart."
Her raw honesty leaves me speechless. Before I can formulate a response, she turns back to the window.
"The rain's letting up," she says, her voice suddenly empty of emotion. "We should be able to leave soon."
As if on cue, the storm begins to ease, the thunder moving away, and the rain softens from a violent downpour to a steady drizzle. The reprieve we've both been waiting for.
