Chasing Mates (MxM)

Chapter Thirty-six

78 Months Later

Shawn P.O.V

My head is throbbing and pounding like a jackhammer to concrete. Unable to open my eyes they feel like they are sewn together, impossible to open the lead weight—ramifications from the day before come crashing to the forefront of my mind.

I moan in pain as I rub the crease on my forehead. I know the pounding in my head is because of the alcohol I consumed last night, but I have no recollection of how I came home.

I carefully rise from my bed cursing at my body every second of the way. I stumble across my room carefully not knocking over bottles that could rattle my headache. I struggle to keep my eyes open as I rush into the kitchen to bless my liver with some fresh water and my brain with an Advil.

The events of last night replay in my mind as I down a second glass of water. I look around my kitchen which is shortly connected to the living area and grimace at the destruction of my apartment.

Thank the fucking Goddess I didn't bring someone home again.

My phone buzzes on the counter in front of me which startles both me and my four-legged friend. I watch as she peers at me before going back to sleep. I could've sworn she gave me a stare of disappointment. Great now even my dog is judging me.

I open my phone and an open chat appears on the screen between me and Roy. His last text my reason for drinking myself into oblivion last night. The urge to throw my phone back into the counter and grab another bottle rushes over me. I could feel Mani objecting to the idea but he doesn't say anything.

4:04 pm
Roy: hey Shawn, I know it's probably a bad time to say this and especially over a text but you won't answer the phone. I don't know if anyone has told you but your father isn't doing so well and he's been in the infirmary for about three days seeking treatment.

4:07 pm
Roy: You should see him.

It's been six and a half years since I was rejected by my mate and it's been almost five years since I left the MoonShine pack and moved almost halfway around the world. Moving to London was one of those impulsive decisions and I can't say I regret it. The hardest part about moving was leaving my family behind. The only person that I told about my move was my father.

I still haven't responded to his text but I have my 'read receipts' on. He knows that I saw the text. Everyone that tried reaching out to me knows that I read their text. Except for Angel. I can't count the number of times I've stared at my phone and waited for him to text me back. Yes.

Text me back.

I've drunk-texted Angel a few times. Thirty-six times to be exact. The last time I did was before I left the pack.

The following two years after he rejected me were the most egregious years of my life. I lost sight of myself after Angel rejected me. After he did...I practically fucking kissed the ground he walked on. I cried for his forgiveness, apologized, and begged him to not leave me. I even slept outside his house—both sober and drunk.

After, I started to become angry with him for ignoring me. I told him that he was overreacting and selfish. He was looking for attention and more. I kept comparing him to everyone else. I said the most atrocious things to him amid my anger.

Once my parents had caught wind of what I was doing to him they gave me the parental pep talk that I don't even remember. His sister too. The next day, I told my father I wanted to leave while I was still sober and able to make conscious decisions. That was the last day I saw everyone, including Angel. I spent the last of my money to buy a ticket while my father took care of everything else for me.