Agony fell short; she was shattered.
Charlotte, a werewolf, endured relentless abuse, leaving her utterly fractured. Austin, her supposed mate, subjected her to constant mistreatment and even infidelity.
In a daring escape, she fled, only to encount...
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I turned around, expecting to see Leon, but instead, I was faced with John.
"What? I thought it was Leon. Oh my god, this is just as bad. He's surely going to tell Leon about this," I thought to myself.
"What are you doing?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I... I was..." I stuttered, struggling for words.
"Nevermind, I can see what you are doing. Where did you find this? Who told you about her?" He inquired.
"I... found this... in the drawer," I replied, my voice trembling.
"Gosh, who knew she would find out so fast," John muttered softly, barely audible.
"What?" I asked, confusion evident in my voice.
"Well, since you already know, there's really no reason to keep it from you anymore," he said.
"Who is she? Does Leon love her a lot? Why does she look like me?" I asked, my head hanging low.
"Well, she was an important part of his past. This is not my place to say this. If you really want to know, ask Leon. I'm just going to say that if you never ask, he's never planning to tell you," John explained.
He walked towards the door and added, "And Charlotte, never doubt who you are. You can ask Leon tonight; he's planning to take you somewhere."
With that, he closed the door. Why can't anyone just tell me who she is? This curiosity is consuming me!
I felt that if I heard it from Leon, I might not be able to handle it. But no one was willing to reveal the truth, and I desperately wanted to know who she was.
My phone rang suddenly, displaying Leon's name. I tried my best to sound composed and okay.
"Hey," I answered.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm just tidying some things up," I replied.
"I want to take you somewhere tonight, just the two of us," he said.
"Um, okay. I'll get ready soon," I said, trying to sound cheerful.
"Great. I'll see you later," he said, ending the call.
What should I wear? Should I ask him about her tonight?
Why hadn't he planned to tell me anything at all? Didn't I have the right to know?
"God, help me. I don't know what to do," I whispered.
I rushed to my closet and sifted through almost every outfit before a particular dress caught my eye.
I changed into that dress just in time to hear a knock at the door, revealing Leon.
He looked handsome in his suit, which emphasized his muscular arms and abs.
I felt my jaw drop, and I heard him chuckle.
"Absolutely stunning," he whispered into my ear, and I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Why did he have to be so nice to me? I was supposed to be upset with him for not wanting to tell me about that girl.
He held the car door open for me like a gentleman, and I slid inside.
He drove us to a secluded place, and as we got out of the car, the entire area lit up.
I was in awe; the fairy lights illuminated the surroundings, and there was a table adorned with roses.
He pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down while he took his seat as well.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"I love it!" I replied, genuinely thrilled.
I didn't want to ruin this beautiful evening, but I needed to ask him about her, and this might be my only chance.
It's now or never.
"I... want to ask you something," I muttered.
"What is it?" he replied, his face contorting into a frown, his voice filled with worry.
"Who... is she?" I asked, as I pulled out the letters and pictures.
His eyes widened, and he stared at me.
I could tell this wasn't going to end well. But I needed to know.
"Where did you find this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised.
"It doesn't matter where I found it. Who is she?" I pressed.
"It's best if you don't know, Charlotte, please," he implored, avoiding eye contact.
"So, it's best that I don't know who this girl is, someone who looks exactly like me, and someone you claim to have loved deeply?" I shouted.
Anger surged through my veins, hot as lava, and I knew it was too much for me to contain. The pressure of this raging sea of anger threatened to force me to say things I didn't mean, or to reveal thoughts I had suppressed for weeks.
