“There.” She pats my hand. “Sit down. I’ll make something.”
I watch her clean up my mess from the chair, but jump up when I see her dealing with shards of glass on the counter from the window that’s over the sink.
“Don’t cut yourself!” I order.
“I won’t. Sit your bum down,” she bosses me right back.
I feel a smile tug at my lips, but I halt it. I watch her carefully clean up and then she opens a drawer and finds a very old roll of sticky tape and tapes up the small apple-sized hole in the window.
She then cleans up more of my mess and begins making a new batch of French toast. We’re out of bacon. She slices some fruit and sets both plates at the table.
She brings over the two cups. One of honey tea for me. The other, coffee that she made for herself.
She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and her tight black pants with her pink rubber thong shoes. Her hair is in a rope that starts at the top of the back of her head and has the length of her hair weaved in a funny pattern. Little bits of purple are showing through it and a tendril of purple hair has come lose over her temple. The long rope of hair is fastened with a black circle at the bottom. I like her hair like that. I smell that she’s still in heat and want to hold that rope while I fuck her.
I’ll do that after she eats her breakfast.
She lifts her fork to her mouth with the French toast.
“I’m sorry I burnt breakfast,” I say.
Her eyes meet mine and then she turns away.
“I’m sorry you’re so angry with me. I’m sorry for making you angry.”
“I’m not angry, Ty. I’m crushed. There’s a big difference.”
I swallow down a lump. “If you’re so hurt that you punish me forever, I’ll deserve it. But I’ll be here. Trying to be better. Trying for you.”
She pulls her lips tight and looks at me with tears in her eyes.
She swallows and it looks like she does so with difficulty.
I drop to the floor and kiss the top of her foot and then put my forehead to it. “I love you,” I tell her.
She doesn’t move.
“I’m sorry, Ivy. Please forgive me.”
I eventually look up at her beautiful face because she’s said nothing in reply.
“You should eat,” she says, finally. “It’s gonna get cold.”
I get up and sit down across from her. Her French toast looks perfect. She’s sliced bananas and strawberries for my plate. She knows I love them both and the sweet gesture makes my chest feel funny.
I stare at the plate. I’m selfish. I’m a fucking jerk, like she called me who has only thought about myself, my wants. What about what she wants? I’ve hurt her that badly and said sorry and forgive me at the same time as threatening to do it to her again.
She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves better than me.
Should I let her go and just go back into the woods and stay wolf so that eventually, she can move on with her life? Eventually, maybe I’ll forget. And if I don’t, maybe I’ll deserve the pain I feel every minute without her.
If I’ve really broken her, I shouldn’t force her to be with me. Shouldn’t force her to look into the face of the man that hurt her day after day.
I look in her eyes.
She looks in mine.
She looks deep into mine and the hurt from her eyes seeps into me. They’re dull now. They’ve lost the vibrant lavender color. Is it because she hates me?
“Do you want me to go away?” I ask. “I said I wouldn’t. I said I couldn’t. But I hate that I hurt you so much.”
Her hurt expression is now fear.
I don’t want her to be afraid.
“What would you do?” she asks in a small voice.
“Go back into the woods as a wolf. Stay that way.” I look down at my beautiful breakfast.
The silence is loud. Very loud.
I loathe it.
I look up at her face, despite the fear of what I’ll see. That I’ll see that she wants me gone from her life. I see tears streaming down her cheeks. Fuck, I’ve caused so many tears for her.
I get up.
I’m done making her cry.
“I love you,” I say. “Again, I’m so sorry.” I turn from her, which is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I head for the door.
I get to the porch and I throw my shirt off. I drop my pants. And I shift.
As soon as my paws hit the ground, I hear the door swing open.
“Wait!” she cries out. “Wait!”
I turn and stare at her.
She walks up to me and approaches slowly, carefully holding her hand out.
I stand tall and watch as she crouches and then she throws her arms around my neck and hugs me, hugs my wolf, burying her face into my fur.