Page 77 of Fat Betrayed Mate
From the mouths of babes.
After dinner, Maisie insists Thomas read her bedtime story, tugging him toward her room with the easy confidence of a child who knows she is loved. I follow, leaning against thedoorframe as he settles beside her on the bed, the picture book dwarfed in his large hands.
"Will I be able to turn into a wolf again?" Maisie asks as he finishes the story, her question betraying the lingering uncertainty beneath her resilience.
"Yes," Thomas assures her, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. "And next time, it won't be scary. Your mama and I will be right there to help you."
She nods, satisfied with his answer. "Are you gonna love Mama forever?" she asks suddenly, her gaze direct and unwavering.
Thomas glances toward me, his expression open, vulnerable. "I will," he says simply. "Very much."
"We’re sticking together, sweetheart," I add, stepping into the room to sit on Maisie's other side. "We're finding our way back to each other."
Maisie yawns, apparently satisfied with this answer.
"Good," she mumbles, eyelids already drooping. "That's how it's supposed to be."
Within minutes, she's asleep, her breathing deep and even. Thomas and I retreat to the living room, the weight of the day—of all that's happened—settling around us in the quiet house.
"She's incredible," Thomas says, gazing toward Maisie's room with lingering wonder. "So smart, so brave. You did that, Fiona. You raised her to be extraordinary despite everything."
"She's half you," I remind him, settling beside him on the couch. "That stubbornness? The way she tackles problems head-on? Pure Thomas Ennes."
He smiles, but there's sadness behind it. "I missed so much."
"We have time now," I say, reaching for his hand. "All the time we need."
His fingers intertwine with mine, warm and solid and real. "How was it? Seeing Edward?"
"Strangely freeing." I lean my head against his shoulder, the familiar scent of him—pine and snow and home—wrapping around me. "I realized he never really knew me at all. And for the first time, that felt like his loss, not mine."
Thomas's arm slips around my shoulders, drawing me closer. "It was his loss," he says fiercely. "The greatest loss imaginable, giving up the chance to truly know his daughter."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, the simple contact of his body against mine more healing than any words could be. Tomorrow, we'll face practical questions—living arrangements, pack responsibilities, how to move forward as a family. But tonight, it's enough to simply be here, together, safe.
Later, as Thomas prepares to sleep on the couch again, I pause at the hallway leading to my bedroom. "Thomas?"
He looks up, a blanket half-unfolded in his hands. "Yes?"
"Thank you," I say, the words inadequate for everything I want to express. "For finding us. For staying."
His smile—slow, warm, full of promise—reaches across the room like an embrace. "Always," he says. "From now on, always."
Before heading to bed, I check on Maisie one last time, finding Thomas already there, watching our daughter sleep from the doorway. I join him, and we stand together in comfortable silence, his arm sliding naturally around my waist.
"Tomorrow," he whispers, "and all the tomorrows after."
I lean into him, feeling the solid strength of him beside me, the certainty of his presence after so many years of absence. Outside this small cottage, Silvercreek continues its nightly routines. Inside, our little family begins the gentle work of healing, of building, of becoming what we were always meant to be.
Together, at last.
Chapter 19 - Thomas
The ceremonial shirt feels stiff against my skin, unfamiliar after years of avoiding pack formalities. I adjust the collar for the dozenth time, studying my reflection in the mirror. The man looking back at me bears little resemblance to the solitary wolf who prowled Silvercreek's borders alone for six years—there's life in his eyes now, purpose in his stance.
"You're going to wear a hole in that collar if you keep fidgeting," Nic says, leaning against the doorframe of what was once my cabin's bedroom. In the month since Maisie and Edward and everything changed, I've barely been here, spending nearly every night at Fiona's cottage. Our cottage now, really, though today makes it official.
"Is it obvious I'm nervous?" I smooth down the front of the shirt again, a useless gesture.
