The Alpha's Happiness

Chapter Six:

Chapter Six:

Xander

He dreamed of Natalie that night. He remembered back to the days of her pregnancy, as she prepared to bring a child into the world, all the while knowing she wouldn’t be around to raise it. His mind showed him the day she had held up the tiny stick, two striped lines. He had kissed her. Holding his wife, his mate, close to him, he had devoured her. He dreamt of days after that as well, when he had held her close, sitting on his lap, as he rocked her to sleep like he someday would to the child she was carrying. His arms wrapped around her growing stomach, head nestled in her hair, trying not to think about the days when she would no longer be there. His eyes filled with tears, even while his wolf sang a song of contentment at holding his mate in his arms. He twirled the wedding ring on her finger, mutely watching the diamond sparkle, until he joined her in sleep.

………

The engine hummed under her, a soft purr that assured her that sleep was within her reach, yet Lainey tried to resist the pull of unconsciousness. In the seat across from her, Xander was talking, continuing the game they were playing, and even while she tried to focus on her mate, Lainey’s mind drifted.

“Favorite game?” his voice pulled her back.

“Chess,” she smiled at his smirk, “favorite dessert?”

“Chocolate cake, extra chocolate, extra frosting,” he said, his nodding to the beat of the classic rock she had turned on.

“Extra fat,” she added for him. Another smirk.

Lainey felt her body relax against the seat, and a tiny breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding slipped from her mouth. For the first time in forever, she finally felt secure, finally felt like she belonged. Home, whispered her wolf. She told herself not to get too comfortable. “He’s not going to stick around,” she reminded herself, “Soon, the obligation he feels towards you will be fulfilled, and he’ll be gone.”

“Favorite book?”

She smiled at him, reaching into her bag to pull out her much battered copy of the book she had read belonging to Natalie. He took in her dog eared copy of Wuthering Heights and rolled his eyes.

“One of those people, I see.”

“Like that’s a bad thing,” was her reply. They continued, and she began to stockpile information on her mate for the day he would no longer be there. Favorite movie: 300. Favorite person: his daughter. Favorite season: winter. Favorite color: Purple.

She categorized every piece of information, rationalized him until he was barely human. Until he became simply facts, a unique combination out of many answers, because maybe, just maybe, it would hurt less when he left.

The wolf part of her, the part that had been fading with every passing day whispered that he wouldn’t. That she was making things harder, that she needed to tell him or leave, that every passing day, every new bit of information, made it harder to leave him. She couldn’t help it. She was a druggie, his scent, his feel, his personality her drug.

……………..

The car slowed as they entered yet another beach community. Another tiny town nestled along the coast that was practically a ghost town once the tourists had left. She watched houses flicker past, and thought of how similar this town was to the one she had grown up in. They couldn’t actually be that far away from her hometown, and for a second she wished she could visit.

For one brief second her mind drifted to where she might be if she hadn’t left. If, at twenty years old, she hadn’t wandered across the country after a mate who hadn’t even known she existed. Would she have bonded with another wolf who had also lost his mate? In her mind she saw herself, a small child on her hip, one hand securing the little girl, another grasped firmly in the grasp of a man’s.

She shook off the thoughts, remembering her promise to live in the present, and noticed they were turning into a driveway, presumably Xander’s parents. Her palms began to sweat, clammy against the leather seats, and she tried to surreptitiously wipe them on her shorts. This was “meet the parents day”. Alright, so they didn’t know her, had never heard of her, and definitely didn’t think they were mates, but still, they were his parents.

 There was a pristine white mail box along the side of the gravel drive. A mail box that, despite the years, she still recognized. The tiny flowers painted by the two young girls, one side daisies, the other, well, better looking daisies. She could recall the day so clearly; it was almost as if she were nine again, once more standing across from her blond haired best friend.

Lainey peeked around the mail box, trying to catch a quick glimpse of Nat’s flowers before she was caught. They had promised each other they wouldn’t peek until both sides were completed, but Lainey had begun to lack in motivation.

Nat’s flowers were perfect, of course they were, everything she did was perfect. They colors blended seamlessly together, the petals of each flower uniform, instead of wavy and lopsided much as Lainey’s were. Lainey tried to remove her eyes quickly and return back to her own mismatched, irregular petals, but her eyes didn’t move quickly enough.

“Hey!” Nat exclaimed, “You promised. We said we weren’t going to peek.”

“Yeah, well whatcha gonna do about it,” taunted her nine year old self, embarrassed at being caught.

She never saw it coming. Never saw the fragile wrist flick. Never saw the arc of pink paint that flew through the air. She felt it though, sticky and wet across her forehead. She reached up a hand to wipe off the flying substance, and her hand came back pink.

“You didn’t,” she screeched, and received a giggle in response.

“If that’s the way it’s going to be,” and blue paint covered blond hair. Lainey thought back with a smile. The surprise on Nat’s momma’s face was evident, but she took it all in stride. Marching over, she grabbed both paintbrushes before handing the girls the hose to wash off with. A shriek cut through the air as cold water hit bare legs, and later, they had watched her momma write a name over the daisies. Cole, it read.

Lainey stared at the mail box, the same one from her childhood, her stomach dropping through her toes. This wasn’t his parent’s house, it was her’s.

 I wasn’t really planning on adding this memory, but it seemed to fit. If you loved this chapter, or even liked it, I’m not picky, HIT THE STAR. I already have another half of a chapter written, so I should be able to update soon, but once school starts, my updates may slow down a little bit.