Chapter 224

[ 1,188 words ]

Sebastian’s POV

The next morning, breakfast was a minefield.

I sat at the table, my eyes flicking between Emilia and Mom. Emilia was pointedly ignoring me, her attention fixed on her coffee. Mom hadn’t looked at Dad once since she sat down. Dad was calmly cutting his toast into neat squares like it was the most important job in the world.

And Tiffany? Poor Tiffany looked like she wanted to crawl under the table and vanish.

My sister, who normally couldn’t go five minutes without cracking a joke or teasing somebody, was eating in total silence. She kept glancing around at all of us with wide, nervous eyes, clearly trying to work out what the hell had happened but too smart to actually ask.

I caught her eye across the table. She mouthed, “What’s going on?”

I gave a tiny shake of my head. “Don’t ask.”

She shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth and looked down at her plate, wisely deciding ignorance was bliss.

Emilia reached for the jam without a word. I tried to catch her eye, but she looked right past me like I was a piece of furniture.

Ryder whined. “Our mate is upset.”

“I noticed, thanks.”

“Fix it.”

“I’m trying!”

After what felt like the longest meal of my life, I excused myself and headed to the bedroom. I couldn’t let this drag on. Emilia might be pissed, but I knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t stay that way if I played my cards right.

I grabbed a piece of paper off my desk and quickly scrawled out a letter, copying the exact apology she’d written me a few weeks back after our last fight. Word for word. If she’d thought that letter was sincere enough to patch things up then, maybe it’d work on her now.

When I was done, I folded it neatly and walked back into the bedroom. Emilia was getting ready, brushing her hair in front of the mirror.

“Darling,” I said, stepping inside. “After a night of serious reflection, I’ve come to see the error of my ways. I’ve written you a formal letter of repentance. Please accept it.”

Before she could say anything, I pressed the letter into her hand, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. Then I turned and walked out with a grin, not giving her the chance to throw it back at me.

On my way to the office, I pulled out my phone and sent her a quick text.

If you’re smiling right now, that means you forgive me, right? Let’s go out for dinner tonight. My treat.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed.

We’ll see. Depends on my mood.

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. She wouldn’t have replied at all if she were still furious. That was progress.

“Told you,” Ryder said smugly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky.”

The morning flew by in a blur of meetings and emails. I was halfway through a contract when Fynn knocked on my office door.

“Come in.”

He stepped inside, holding a large envelope. “Someone dropped this off for you at the front desk. Said it was confidential, and that you had to open it yourself.”

I frowned and took it from him. “Who sent it?”

“A woman, apparently. She didn’t leave a name.”

My chest tightened. I stared down at the envelope, an uneasy feeling creeping over me.

“Alright. Thanks, Fynn. You can go.”

He left and closed the door behind him. I sat there a moment, the envelope on my desk like a ticking bomb.

Finally, I tore it open.

Inside was a single sheet of sky-blue paper, folded into the shape of a crane.

My hands went still. The room seemed to tilt.

I knew that shade of blue. I knew that fold.

With shaking fingers, I unfolded the crane.

The handwriting was delicate, elegant, and painfully familiar.

[Sebastian,

It’s Abigail. I’m back. If you’re free, can we meet at the usual place? Six o’clock this afternoon.]

“She’s really back.”

The thought knocked the air out of me. Three years of silence. Three years of questions that ate at me in the dark. And now she had the nerve to just… come back.

My hands clenched around the paper crane, almost crushing it. Memories I’d buried came rushing back. Her laugh. The way she’d hold my hand. The look in her eyes the morning of our wedding, before everything fell apart. The good moments tangled up with the pain and the humiliation of watching the woman I loved walk away without a word.

“Ryder.” My wolf stirred at once, sensing the turmoil in me.

“I know,” he growled. “She’s back.”

“She wants to meet.”

“Are you actually thinking about this?”

I looked at the clock. Barely past noon, and the afternoon already felt like it would never end. “I don’t know.”

The rest of the day was a blur. I sat through a board meeting without hearing a word. Quarterly reports, profit margins, expansion plans, all of it static. My head was three years in the past, replaying every moment with Abigail.

The same questions, over and over. Why did she leave? Why did she run off with Damien on our wedding day? And why, why, when I’d had that tattoo removed, did I find out she’d inked my name onto herself too? None of it fit together. It never had.

By three, I’d given up any pretense of working. I sat alone in my office.

“You’re spiraling,” Ryder said quietly.

“I’m not spiraling. I’m thinking.”

“You’re obsessing. There’s a difference, Seb.”

“She loved me,” I said, my voice rough. “So what the hell happened? What could make a woman leave when she felt like that?”

“Does it matter?”

I went still. “What?”

Ryder pressed closer, his voice sharp and clear. “Does it matter what her reasons were? Even if she loved you, would you forgive her? Would you take her back?”

The question sat there between us.

“No,” I said at last. “We’re done. That part of my life is over.”

“Then why are you tearing yourself apart over this?”

“Emilia’s right,” Ryder pushed. “You already married her. Does it really still matter why Abigail betrayed you?”

“I know.” My chest tightened at the thought of my mate. “I love Emilia. She’s everything to me.” I dragged a hand down my face. “But that’s exactly why I need to do this. If I don’t get the answers, Abigail will always be a ghost hanging over us. I can’t give Emilia all of me while I’m chained to the past.”

Ryder was quiet for a long moment. Then, reluctantly, “Fine. But don’t do anything stupid.”

“When have I ever done anything stupid?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

In the end, I grabbed my keys and headed for the meeting spot.

The whole drive over, I kept turning over what I’d say to her. At one point I even pictured slapping her hard across the face before I got a word out, making her pay for three years of pain and humiliation.

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