To Love a Wolf; Sequel to Coyotes and Wolves, A Milo Manheim Original Story

The Return of The Big Bad Wolf

POV: Milo

Halloween is coming. I really don't like Halloween. It's kind of like horror movies. Too unpredictable, full of jump scares, people pretending to be what they're not, girls walking around in lingerie with animal ears and calling it a "costume". Isn't life fucked up enough without all this creepy shit? But, as you might have guessed, it's Estella's favorite. She loves everything dark and demented. I guess that makes sense, since she's dating my unstable wolf ass. She's been kind of quiet about it though. I figured she'd be fan-girling all over this freaking holiday, like she'd be out there building a shrine to Jack Skellington or something, I don't know.

But, nothing.

This is where I have to read her mind and solve the puzzle. I love that's she's kind of a mystery if I'm being honest, but with what's been going on lately, I could do with a little less guesswork.

I came home after my appointment, annoyed and feeling more confused than ever. Maybe it's not for me, I don't know. All I know is that I do love Estella, and I don't just use her as a distraction. That's bullshit. I still have no idea how to help her, and I'm still trying to figure out if I should even mention what happened that day.

After walking into the house, I saw Estella putting together some kind of art project. Her Therapist has her doing mindful activities or something like that. I want to be supportive and I am, but I just don't get how glueing shit and painting are going to help her sort out her past. I don't think her Therapist has any fucking clue what she's doing. Maybe that's why she's not really getting better, she just thinks she is.

I can't trust anyone to do what they're supposed to do; parents, doctors, teachers, police officers, the entire fucking court system--after what happened with Bryan and Julian...and you wonder, why I have control issues?

I know.

I'm being really negative today, but cut me some slack, it's been a weird few weeks.

"Hi, baby." She greeted me, while continuing with her unidentified creation.

"Hey." I voiced in a quiet, but friendly one.

"How was your first session?" She asked, expectantly.

"Fine. I guess. I don't know. It kind of pissed me off." I muttered.

"Yeah. I get that. It's definitely not easy in the beginning. Sometimes you hear a lot of stuff that you really don't want to. But it gets easier." She explained, encouragingly.

"I don't know, Estella. Do you think that your therapy is really helping?" I asked, trying to sound casually curious.

"I do...Why? Do you think... it's not helping me?" She asked, in a tone of insecurity.

"No! I didn't mean...I just meant like... if you thought that therapy does a whole lot in general, or maybe you're just figuring it out on your own." I back-pedaled, although I was kind of lying.

"I don't know." Estella replied, thoughtfully. "I just kind of go with it. It can't really hurt anything, right?"

Yeah, unless they tell you that the love of your life is an unhealthy, codependent, distraction.

"Yeah. I guess you're right." I pretended to agree.

She nodded and went back to her weird project.

"Anyway... Halloween is coming up." I said, rubbing the back of my neck as I changed the subject.

"Yeah..." She replied unenthusiastically, as her fingers nimbly worked on her glueing.

"So, why aren't you going all "yay" black cats, pumpkins, and bats?" I asked, suspiciously.