David's POV
The walk to home was blur of choked sobs and ragged breaths. The familiar scent of the forests , usually a comfort , now feel tained.
The silence of my childhood house usually offered a sense of sanctuary, a comforting familiarity that wrapped around me like a warm embrace.
But today, it felt vast and echoing, amplifying the turmoil that churned within me . The grand staircase, with its polished wooden banisters and family portraits lining the walls, seemed to watch me ascent with silent judgment.
Last night's impromptu departure from the ballroom, fueled by a sudden wave of nausea and distress I couldn't quite articulate even to myself, had left a gaping hole in my carefully constructed evening.
Now, the prospect of facing my parents, known for their gentle concern and occasional gentle prodding, filled me with a dread that felt disproportionate to the situation.
As I stepped into the familiar warmth of the living room, my parents turned, their expressions a mixture of relief and mild concern.
My mother, elegant even in her casual morning attire, was the first to speak. "David, darling! We were wondering when you'd be back. Everything alright? You left the ballroom rather abruptly last night."
My mind raced, searching for a plausible explanation that wouldn't involve the confusing rush of emotions that had overwhelmed me.
Before i could stammer out a half-truth, a familiar voice boomed through the hallway.
"Aunt Jennifer, Uncle Jack ! Good evening! Sorry I'm late, got caught up with some work."
Damon, my close friend, strode into the room, his usual cheerful demeanor radiating through the tense atmosphere . As my parents always call him and Chris to know about my whereabouts . My last night absence may the reason for him to be here.
He turned to me, a knowing glint in his eyes. He caught my eye and a silent understanding passed between us, a bond forged over years of shared secrets and unwavering support.
Without missing a beat, Damon continued, his arm casually looping around my shoulders. "And, he was with me. We lost track of time on one of our long walks."
My heart lurched with gratitude. Damon, ever the observant one, must have sensed my distress. His "weird liking for long night walks or drives" was a well-known quirk within the pack, a perfect alibi.
My parents exchanged relieved glances. "Damon, thank goodness. We were starting to worry."
"Oh, Damon, you are a night owl," my father chuckled, while my mother added, "Well, as long as you're both safe. We were a little worried when David didn't return with the others."
Damon offered me a small, almost imperceptible smile. "No problem at all. Just got caught up in conversation." He gave a mock sigh.
Relief washed over me in a dizzying wave. Damon ,ever-reliable anchor, had unknowingly thrown me a lifeline. My parents, familiar with our close friendship and Damon's tendency for late-night walk, accepted his explanation without question, their expressions softening with reassurance.
I offered him a grateful smile, a silent thank him for his quick thinking. He teased me for covering my lie.
"Well, I should probably head back. Busy tomorrow." He clapped me lightly on the shoulder, his eyes conveying a silent message of support. "See you around, David. Don't stay out too late next time." And with that, he leaves as he has some work to do.
My mother pulled me into a comforting hug. "Come inside, sweetheart. You look exhausted."
I allowed myself to be led into the warmth of our home, the familiar surroundings offering a small measure of solace.
After a brief exchange with my parents, I mumbled about being tired and needing to rest, retreating to the solace of my room.
The moment the door clicked shut behind me, the carefully constructed facade crumbled. The relief of escaping my parents' scrutiny evaporated, replaced by the raw, festering pain of what I had witnessed at Kevin's door.
The familiar comfort of my room, with its soft lighting and cherished mementos, now felt suffocating, each object a silent reminder of a affection I had believed to be steadfast.
I sank onto my bed, the plush cushions offering little comfort against the ache in my chest.
The image of Kevin and Rose, their closeness , replayed in my mind, each iteration sharpening the edges of hurt.
How could he? How could my mate , whose eyes had held such warmth for me, be capable of such a betrayal?
The misunderstanding that had clouded our morning now seemed insignificant, dwarfed by his apparent act of infidelity.
I can accept female alpha but seeing Kevin's arm in others, lip locked that was a fresh wound, a brutal twist of the knife.
Tears welled in my eyes, hot and stinging, blurring the familiar landscape of my room. A sob escaped my lips, raw and uncontrolled, the sound swallowed by the soft fabric of pillow.
The silence of my room, which had moments ago felt like a refuge, now pressed in on me, amplifying my solitude and the crushing weight of my perceived betrayal.
Just as the dam of my emotions threatened to break entirely, my phone buzzed on the bedside table.
The caller ID displayed Chris's name. Hesitantly, I answered, my voice thick with unshed tears.
"David? Hey, just wanted to check if you made it home alright," Chris's voice was its usual lighthearted tone, laced with a hint of playful teasing. "Lost in the land of late-night philosophical debates again, were we?"
I tried to respond, but all that came out was a choked sob. The playful tone in Chris's voice instantly vanished, replaced by a deep concern that resonated through the phone line.
"David? What's wrong? Are you crying?" His voice was now sharp with worry. "What happened? Tell me."
The dam finally broke. The carefully constructed walls around my pain crumbled, and the torrent of my emotions poured out. Through ragged breaths and tearful gasps, I recounted the scene at Kevin's door, the image that had shattered my trust and sent me fleeing into the night. I didn't explain the preceding earlier misunderstanding with Kevin, my focus solely on the devastating visual I had witnessed.
Chris listened in silence, his initial teasing replaced by a growing gravity. He didn't interrupt, didn't offer platitudes. He simply allowed me to pour out my pain, his presence on the other end of the line a silent anchor in my storm of emotions.
When I finally fell silent, my voice hoarse and my body trembling, Chris spoke, his tone low and serious.
"David, I'm so sorry. That sounds... awful. But you need to tell me everything. What led you to Kevin's? What was happening before you saw... this?"
His concern was palpable, a familiar comfort in the midst of my distress. I knew I could trust Chris implicitly. He had always been my confidant, my rock.
As I began to recount the events of the meeting Kevin as my mate , the initial misunderstanding with Kevin, my reaction to his secondary gender things, and the devastating discovery at his door, a small flicker of hope ignited within the darkness of my despair.
Perhaps, just perhaps, with Chris's unwavering support, I could begin to understand the betrayal that had ripped through my heart. But the image of Kevin's perceived intimacy with Rose remained a heavy weight, a stark and painful reality that would undoubtedly color my understanding of everything that had transpired.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Heart
FanfictionI don't know if you gonna like it or not but give it a try. And English isn't my first language . Images used are not mine; they were sourced from Google. All credit goes to the original creators and copyright holders.
