Page 2 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
My mind had been screaming at me to stop, to throw him out of the house, rain or not. I was sure one of his Aston Martins was parked somewhere nearby, probably idling like he owned the street. Because he did. The point is, I knew better. I shouldn’t have done anything with him, but I had. And it went on longer than it ever should have. And it broke my heart.
No, shattered it.
My eyes fluttered closed as a dull ache settled in my chest. My wolf stirred again. She felt the pain too, maybe even more than I did. The memory of him always seemed to rattle her, like she hadn’t stopped yearning for the one soul who once made us feel whole.
Even after five years, reminders of him still burned like acid in my throat. I swallowed them down like I always do. This time, along with the last sip of my wine.
Footsteps and chatter filtered in from the front lawn, and a smile spread across my lips. He never stopped talking, never stopped arguing.
“I told you it’s a Spinosaurus, not a T. Rex! Spinosaurus has a sail on its back. Google it!” That was Ollie’s voice, high-pitched, slightly annoyed, and full of the conviction he used for every debate. He was a passionate and enthusiastic kid.
“They all look the same to me, Ollie.” Valerie’s voice came out a little defeated. Valerie worked as a teacher at Ollie’s school. She usually brought him back home from school if she was able.
“That’s like saying you and a giraffe look the same,” Ollie continued firmly. “It’s wrong. And mean to the dinosaur.”
I laughed at their conversation as I quickly discarded all the piles of sorrow spread across the dining table and put away the wine glass. I went to the door. The smile on my face widened as I took in my little boy in his white T-shirt and shorts, still mostly neat even after sevenhours of school. Somehow, he always looked polished. That was Ollie—neat, organized, and put together in a way most four-year-olds aren’t.
It was one less thing I had to worry about.
“Mommy! Tell Aunt Valerie I do know what a Spinosaurus is,” Ollie said the moment he looked up at me.
I feigned a frown, crouching in front of him. “That’s no way to say hello, now is it?”
Ollie shrugged his shoulders, then leaned in, “Hi, Mom,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.
“Hi, kiddo.” I wrapped my hands around him, pulled him close, and buried my face in his neck. Warmth spread through me as I finally let myself relax after an entire day of figuring out how to get out of one mess my father had put me in, only to discover there were more waiting for me.
When I finally pulled back, Ollie was peering at me with narrowed eyes.
“You smell like that juice you said I can’t drink until I’m an adult.”
I chuckled. Right. Alcohol.
Ollie was nothing if not perceptive.
I stood and glanced at Valerie, who looked worn out. I couldn’t tell if it was from a stressful day at school, or from the one-sided debate about dinosaurs she had been having with Ollie. Maybe both.
“I think I need some of that ‘juice’ right now,” she mouthed to me, already on her way to the kitchen.
After closing the door, I started to help Ollie out of his bag and shoes. “So, did anything interesting happen at school today? Other than what your teacher said about Spinosaurus.”
“Oh, my teacher didn’t say anything about Spinosaurus. My friend, Dan, brought his er…” he scrunched his nose as he scratched his head, searching for the right words to describe what he wanted to say. “Dan brought his dinosaur textbook. It had all these pictures of different dinosaurs. They were so huge.”
“That’s certainly interesting,” I said, tugging off one of his socks.
“And at the closing assembly, Principal West said there was going tobe a father–son game day at the end of the term.” Ollie’s gaze dropped to his lap. “But I know I can’t attend because I don’t have a daddy.”
My heart plummeted like someone had pulled the floor out from under me. I’d known this day would come, though I hadn’t expected it to come this soon. Ollie was just four years old.
“Why don’t I have a daddy, Mommy? Daniel and all my friends do.”
I drew in a breath, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Your father is…far away. He can’t be here right now, Ollie.”
Sadness clouded his small face. “Is he ever going to come back?”
I managed a pained smile, though my chest ached. “He’s never coming back.”
His shoulders slumped, and I quickly reached for something—anything—to keep that smile of his from disappearing completely. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll talk to your principal, see if I can join in.”
