Dieter's Prize

Twenty-Eight

Crispin's POV

Isolated.

That's how I have felt the past week. And it's pure and utter torture. Tiptoeing around this pack, hiding away from Dieter even though I hadn't needed to. Dieter made himself scarce. After that day...after that argument and I told him I needed space from him I haven't seen him.

Granted I haven't gone to look for him. 

I don't know how to fix this. Whatever this is. There is too much that was said and it broke us. 

I've been trying to come to terms with the fact that our sacrifice is Carter. My son. When he first told me of course I denied it. But the facts lined up. Things had changed between Carter and I. I couldn't ignore it no matter how hard I tried. And even this past week, I have not had the urge to call him or speak to him. What would I even say? If Dieter is right, then it means that if I tried to make it better between us it would get worse.

Though Rena seemed to be oblivious. I would get texts and calls from her all day. Telling me about how Carter wanted to talk to me, but I never was brave enough to answer the phone. Which gave me a new revelation of myself. I was a coward.

Rena left many angry messages in my voicemail. Which didn't help me and they want to talk to Carter. I knew the more I was silent the worse it would get, but what else was there for me to do? I've never felt so helpless before in my life.

"Oh, there it is..." The doctor's voice pulled me from my thoughts as I lay on the table. 

The past week I've also been sick out of my mind. Throwing up, lightheaded. I found the pack doctor and booked an appointment. 

"Yeah, you're pregnant. Congratulations, Dad." I lied. Now I've never felt so helpless. This couldn't have come at a worse time. 

I mean it wasn't like we were taking the proper precautions. We knew this could happen, and deep down I knew I'd be most likely the one to carry. But that was before everything went to shit. When we--when I thought we'd be happy forever.

"How far along?" I asked her, slowly sitting up and throwing my sweatshirt back on. Which has been my new staple for the past week.

"Two weeks." She smiled sweetly at me, and I tried my best to return it. But this should be a joyous occasion, instead, it's tumultuous.

"Great, thanks." I got to my feet and before she could say anything else I walked out. Left to my thoughts yet again.

This was all too much to handle and even in that, nothing has changed or been fixed. I came here to fix things, but it seemed my coming here had made things worse. And now here I am, pregnant, with a broken mate bond, and a tear in the relationship with my eldest son.

I know I should tell Dieter, and at some point, I will. But I'm scared that if I do, we'd fall back into the old pattern of ignoring our very real issues. Let me rephrase, MY old pattern. 

That was one thing he said that stuck with me. I hadn't realized I did that until he brought it up. And now I wondered had I not been so opposed to our reality would we be in a different place than we are now? 

But even through all this uncertainty and disaster, I missed him. I missed him more than I needed to breathe. 

It helped I was in the pack, and I caught a whiff of his sent sometimes, but I missed him being in the bed with me. Most nights I didn't sleep because he wasn't there. It wasn't until exhaustion took me over that I was able to finally get some rest. But even then I'd wake up sore and aching.