Formerly Yours

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

It wasn’t long before my parents arrived home in their car (they’re co-owners of our local recreation center so they go to work together everyday- that’s why I get to drive the truck).

“Hey sweetheart.” My dad greeted me, kissing me on top of my head while I was preparing salads as he passed me on his beeline to the fridge to grab a beer.

“Long day?” Dad usually waited to have his beer with dinner.

“Elder West needed some consulting on some issues. I was in an out of the office all day.”

“It was a long day.” My mom verified as she closed the back door connecting our kitchen to the garage and set the keys to her red Volvo on the kitchen counter. “How was school?”

Dinner continued in ordinary fashion. I chatted with my parents at our kitchen table and we discussed our plans for the weekend and the latest news in town. Evidently one of the younger families in our mid-sized pack of 73 was expecting twins. In a town as small as Mayville with a pack the size of ours, any news (good or bad, unwanted or interesting) travels very quickly.

Once my parents began cleaning up the dishes, I quickly fed my boarder collie, Albie, dinner and headed up stair to change into my running clothes. Most days I prefer running in wolf- form, but since my wolf and I had been arguing today and I didn’t want to risk her doing something stupid (like ignoring anything I told her and running to Braiden’s house and making us pace around like a stalker), I decided to take Albie on my run with me. Besides, my puppy was beginning to get pudgy- she needed the exercise.

I love my room. It’s not that large, but it’s practical and perfect for me.  In my room, I have my computer desk, my full-sized day bed, and one of those arm-rest pillows on the bench built into the wall beneath the large windows of my room.

I’ve never been a fan of folding laundry so behind my bed on the side closest to my walk in closet, there’s always a pile of clean clothes sitting in the laundry basket waiting to be put away (they rarely do). However, other than the small mountain of clean laundry, my room is relatively clean. I don’t like to have to worry about Albie eating my things. Much like me, she has a shoe fetish, except she prefers eating them rather than wearing them.

As for the colors of my room, three of the walls are painted a baby blue, but the third wall, the one behind my bed, is pained black with white, light blue, and yellow stripes to match the comforter on my bed. Each of the walls of my room has framed pictures scattered all over the walls. I love photographing things. Animals, nature, and people—especially when they don’t notice—are my favorite photography subjects. My favorites are the ones hanging above my calendar over my desk. The bathroom connecting to my room is painted a light sherbet orange color. It’s safe to assume that I like bright colors. My room always helps me to feel less depressed.

After changing into some running tights with a pair of shorts over them and donning my favorite old blue sweatshirt, I grabbed Albie’s neon orange leash and informed my parents that I’d be home within an hour.

Albie and I had a nice run in the frisk winter air. We ran the 4 mile route from my house through my neighborhood to Mayville park and back.  This path was one of my favorites to run with Albie because it was well lit to run at night without attracting any unwanted attention of people wondering why I was running in the dark (I could see, but they didn’t know that), and the path ran through the “human” section of town, away from all of the drama of the wolf world. Runs were my escape from the world.

 It wasn’t even 10:00 when, after my shower, that I felt it, and instantaneously doubled over in pain. Through witnessing it at school I now knew what it meant.

It was caused by Braiden. Every time Braiden “cheated” on his mate (me) I could feel it.

God I felt awful.  My muscles were tired and relaxed after my run, but now I felt as if I were experiencing PMS cramps on crack—just a step below labor pains.

Evidently it only hurt me or else he wouldn’t be doing what he was doing. Each time he kissed another woman or another wolf it was a blow to my gut. And every time he slept with some sleezebag it was a knife to my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. I locked myself in my room on nights or went on “runs.” My mother would ship me to the doctors if she saw me doubled over in pain. I’ve gotten good enough to pass it off as migraine now though. I’ve had those since I was young, too.

How could he do this to us?

He’s an ass. A cold, heartless jerk. He doesn’t care. I reminded her—for the 93rd time to be precise.

I felt the desperation as my wolf retreated into silence.

I wish there was a way to divorce your mate.

She hurt; I hurt. The tears slid down my face despite how much I resented them. He hadn’t earned them. He hadn’t earned my heart, my trust, my feelings of pain and despair when he hurt us. Hedidn’t deserve my hurt.

I focused on my breathing, attempting to pay attention to something anything other than the physical and emotional onslaught of pain I was experiencing.

I want to be done with this. I’ve become so depressed, so accepting of my misery. It’s about damn time I do something about it.

This was it. I was moving on. I decided as I pulled back the sheets to my bed and curling up in the fetal position. My wolf would be pissed, but she was hurt. I was hurt. We needed to move on; we needed healing; we needed a way out of our one-sided relationship with Braiden West. Tomorrow, I would plan a way to get us out of this mess.

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I now have a headache, but I finally got this done. Things are about to start picking up :) I hope people are liking/reading this.  

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Hope you have an awesome day!

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