by Sara Dailey
After a few deep calming breaths, she stood and walked over to me and lightly touched the cheek that she’d slapped. “My baby. You need to trust me. You and Marcus will be fine. All couples go through tough times. It will pass.”
I did everything I could to keep the tears from falling. “What if it doesn’t? What if we really don’t love each other? What if we can’t?” I asked, wanting an honest answer.
“Not all marriages are built on love, sweetie. Life isn’t a fairy tale. We don’t all get swept off our feet by some guy riding on a white horse. And sometimes love just takes time,” she answered.
Mothers weren’t supposed to tell you these things. I wasn’t naive. I knew that marriage wasn’t a guaranteed happy-ever-after, but shouldn’t it feel that way in the beginning at least? If we weren’t happy now, was there any hope for us at all?
My mom gave me her hand and pulled me to my feet. “One thing that will definitely ruin this marriage before it even starts is infidelity. It needs to stop. If Marcus and his family, heaven forbid, were to find out about this, what do you think would happen? Marcus would never allow that man to live. Your own father would probably have to be the one to take care of it. You would be ruined. We would be ruined. Think about someone beside yourself for once. Lily, if you actually believe that you care about this guy, it needs to stop now, before anyone else knows of your betrayal.”
I just sat there, stunned and silent, as her words sank in.
“Okay, darling?” Mom asked.
I didn’t have anything left in me, so I just nodded my head. Mom smoothed my hair with her hand and said, “Good. Go take a long, hot shower to get that domestic’s stench off you, put your engagement ring back on your finger, and get a good night’s sleep. Everything will seem better in the morning.”
As soon as I stepped into the shower, the tears began to fall. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. This was all my fault. I did this. Because I was stupid and selfish, I’d put Paul’s life at risk. What was I thinking? I should have never called him, and I definitely shouldn’t have gone to see him. Now the memories of his smiles, the way he looked at me when he sang, and the way his arms felt as he held me close would forever be in my heart. Those memories would haunt me always. What it felt like to kiss him, to be consumed by passion from just the touch of his lips would serve as a constant reminder of what I didn’t have, what I never would.
I knew I’d never feel that way about Marcus. Knowing that crushed me. I didn’t want a marriage of power and agreement. Of obligation. I wanted one filled with passionate kisses and Rocky Road ice cream and songs about love.
I went to bed knowing what I should do. Paul deserved more than my secrecy and lies, and I hated myself for dragging him into my fucked-up world. I’d just got so caught up in it all that I never thought about the future we could never have. The harsh truth was that Paul and I could never really be together. Tomorrow, as much as it would kill me, I would end things. For real this time. This wishy-washy girl needed to get a damn grip on reality.
The sooner he was out of the picture, the easier it would be for me to focus on the future I was destined to have, the future I’d have to face whether I wanted to or not.
Chapter 13
My night was plagued with fretful dreams, and I tossed and turned until sunlight seeped through the crack between my curtains. I lifted my head to look at my clock and wondered if I’d ever really fallen asleep. My mother was dead wrong. Nothing looked better. Not one damn thing.
I lay around all morning watching mindless television and waited for the afternoon to roll around. My bedroom door was locked, and I didn’t plan on leaving until I had to. Both my parents—first my mom and an hour later, my dad—came up and knocked on my door. When I didn’t acknowledge them, they stood there talking through my door asking if I was okay, if I was hungry, and begging me to come out. No.
Huddled under my covers in the confines of my bed, I stared at my tiny television. A repeat of Yo MTV Raps filled the screen, but it might as well have been snow because I couldn’t focus on anything; not when my world was crumbling around me.
Finally, my clock read 12:00 p.m., so I reached over and dialed the number that would forever be burned into my memory. Paul answered on the third ring, sounding a bit out of breath. He was on his way out the door, he said, but he agreed to meet me at his apartment later so I took down the directions and settled in for another long wait.
*****
Hours later, my father knocked on my door once again. I ignored him.
“Lillian, you’re going to have to come out of there at some point. And you need to eat, honey.” Pause. Knock. “Lillian, do you hear me?”
I threw my flip-flop at the door in response.
“Okay…well, your mother and I are heading over to the Walkers’ to meet with the Stantons about Phillip and his move to enforcer. You’re welcome to join us.” Pause. “Okay…just please eat something while we’re gone. Your mother and I are worried about you.”
I put my television on mute and listened intently for the front door to close behind them. Once I was alone, I threw back my covers and headed to the shower.
*****
Completely numb, I drove straight to Paul’s apartment in Taos. I was so out of it that I could hardly remember how I’d gotten there. Just like I learned to do with my guilty conscience, I’d bottled up all of my feelings and tucked them away somewhere deep inside of myself. It was like my brain knew that I couldn’t physically handle the chaotic mess brewing inside of me.
Before I got out of the car, I checked my makeup in the visor mirror. All the concealer and mascara in the world couldn’t mask the misery in my eyes. There was nothing I could do about it, so I shut the visor, dragged myself out of the car, and headed to apartment 1173.
The door swung open, and Paul’s huge grin instantly vanished as he took in the disheveled mess on his doorstep. He pulled me inside, wrapped his arms around me and said, “Hey, are you okay? Tell me what’s wrong.”
There, in his arms, the bottle containing every emotion within me shattered and I broke down in tears. I’d never felt anything like this before. Never had I been this upset, this broken, and I had no idea how to handle it. Flooded by my pent-up emotions, I completely lost it, and my shaky legs gave out from beneath me.
Paul’s strong arms stopped me from collapsing to the floor as he slowly lowered both of our bodies to the ground. Never loosening his grasp, he pulled me up against him. I sat sideways between his legs with my head against his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair as I continued to sob.
“Lillian, please talk to me. You can tell me. There’s nothing you could say that would change the way I feel about you.”
I closed my eyes, wishing his words could be true. He just sat there holding me, patiently waiting for my tears to slow. I could hardly breathe through my choking sobs. He gently rubbed my back and assured me, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”
When my breathing finally slowed, Paul lifted my head, so he could look into my eyes. “Please, Lillian. Let me help you. I promise that whatever it is you can tell me. It’s killing me to see you this way.”
He waited for me to respond, willing me with his eyes to say something, but I couldn’t. The words were all jumbled up in my head. When my eyes drifted back to the floor, he took my face in his hands and begged, “Please look at me. I have no idea what this is about, but you need to know something before you say what I think you’re going to say. I’ve fallen in love with you. Do you hear me? I love you, Lillian Michaels, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I love all of you, everything about you. Even the part that you keep locked away. I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in the crowd at the music festival. And I know we haven’t known each other long, but I can’t lose you. Not when I can’t imagine my life without you.”
Silent tears continued down my face as I let his heartfelt confession sink in. He loved me, all of me. But that co
uldn’t really be true because there was a huge part of me that he could never know. The hardest part of all was that I loved him too. I just couldn’t admit it, not even to myself. Not until now.
I opened my mouth to tell him, but I couldn’t say it out loud. To my surprise, other words came out instead. “You wouldn’t love me if you really knew me…if you knew the truth.”
Hurt flashed across his face, but then his body stiffened and his eyes narrowed on me as he argued, “You don’t know that. How will you ever know that if you don’t give me a chance? You can leave here tonight, holding on to your secret, and run away from your feelings for me, or you can trust me, tell me what’s going on and give me the chance to show you how much I love you. I just want to be with you. Give me a chance to show you that nothing else matters.”
I pushed myself up from off the floor. I needed some space. His nearness confused me. I turned my back to him and prepared myself to explain that I couldn’t tell him everything, that there were things about me he could never know.
I took a few steps away and breathed deeply just before the words I meant to keep hidden exploded from my mouth. “I’m engaged. But I don’t love him. In fact, I kind of hate him. He’s an arrogant son of a bitch who hates me too. It’s an arranged marriage, which I know sounds completely ridiculous in this day and age, but that’s exactly what it is. Arranged. Our parents are forcing us to get married. Guess it’s kind of obvious that I don’t live in a typical American family. Far from it actually. I’m so sorry, Paul. I should have never dragged you into any of this, but I screwed up. I fell so hard for you, and I was selfish…am selfish. I didn’t want to let you go. Please believe me when I say I don’t want to marry him. I want to be with you…but I can’t.”
Paul stared up at me, eyes wide. For several seconds we just watched each other in silence. Then, he stood and walked toward me. Standing directly in front of me, he asked, “Engaged?”
I slightly nodded my head but didn’t speak.
“Why can’t you just leave? You’re an eighteen-year-old adult living in America. They can’t force you to do anything that you don’t want to do. That really is a rule.”
My eyes filled up with tears. He would never understand. Yes, they could, and they would. But how could I explain something like that to him, a human, who knew nothing about werewolves and pack laws?
He reached out and took my hands in his. “I’m serious, Lillian. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do. Because there is more. One more thing I haven’t told you.”
His eyes met mine, and the confusion and sadness in them caused my chest to tighten.
“Paul…I’m a werewolf.”
Chapter 14
Oh my God! What did I just do?
Paul’s beautiful face gradually drained of color as I spilled my secrets without stopping to think of the consequences. “Say something, Paul. Anything. Tell me to leave. Tell me you hate me. Just say something, please,” I begged with tears in my eyes as he stood silently in front of me. He couldn’t even look at me.
Still avoiding eye contact, he ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Lillian. If you don’t want to tell me the truth then don’t, but are you really going to stand here and make up some crazy shit just to push me away?” His voice was laced with anger, and I shouldn’t have been surprised that he didn’t believe me, but I was.
“I’m not making this up, Paul. I am a werewolf. Trust me, I wish I was making up crazy shit, but it’s true. And I’m not insane if that’s what you’re thinking.”
The condescending laugh that escaped his lips felt like a shot to the gut.
“Oh, good to know. My ‘werewolf’ girlfriend isn’t insane. Thanks, I feel better already.”
When I didn’t reply, the realization that I was dead serious must have struck. Once again, his face turned a ghostly white, and he stumbled backward. My heart broke a little more with each step he took. He reached out his hand and grabbed the wall for support. I wanted to run away. Seeing Paul suffer from something I said was more than I could stand, but I also couldn’t leave until he heard me out. He needed to know everything. Most importantly, he needed to know that my confession had left him in danger.
“Please, Paul, listen to me…”
I stopped as he raised one hand and held the other to his stomach. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the room.
When I heard the bathroom door shut and lock, I walked through his bedroom and stood outside of where he’d disappeared. I heard him talking to himself, but I couldn’t make out the words.
The water turned on and off, but he didn’t come out. I knocked lightly. When he didn’t respond, I turned around and went to sit down on his bed, but once there I couldn’t sit. I just stood there, staring down at his dark-brown comforter and crumpled beige sheets and knowing what I needed to do. Well, sort of.
If Paul wouldn’t hear me out, I’d just have to make him listen. I would not let anything happen to him because of my stupidity and impulsiveness. Even if he never wanted to see me again, I had to make sure he understood that he could never repeat what I’d said. Even if he didn’t believe me, he could never tell anyone that his crazy ex thought she was a werewolf. It would cost him his life if the wrong person heard. But how was I going to make sure he understood everything he needed to understand?
I was running my hand down his bedspread when Paul emerged from the bathroom with a wild expression on his face. “Show me,” he said.
“Paul, you need to hear me out. You could be in troub—”
“Show me, Lillian!” he practically shouted. It was a tone he’d never used with me before.
“I’ll just scare you even more, Paul. Please,” I begged. I didn’t want him to think of me that way. I wanted to be the Lillian he’d fallen in love with, even if we couldn’t be together. Was that so wrong?
Paul took two hesitant steps toward me then stopped. He lowered his steely eyes and stared straight through me. “Please, Lillian. I need to know that what you’re saying is real or if you’re out of your mind. I need to know,” he demanded.
This was not a good idea. I suddenly wished I could just let him continue to think I was crazy, but I had to protect him. I had to do this. I dragged my hands through my hair and turned away from him. I took a few steps and then forcefully popped my knuckles. Turning back to him I said, “Okay. Okay, Paul, but please don’t freak out. Okay? I will not hurt you,” I added before I hurried over and took his hands in mine. “Do you hear me? I will not hurt you. Tell me you understand.”
Paul nodded and removed his hands from mine, leaving me feeling cold and rejected.
When I told him that I needed to remove my clothes, he shot me a skeptical look but then turned and faced the bathroom door. Reluctantly I stripped and shifted into wolf form.
In the middle of his bedroom, unable to speak, I made a small noise that came out as a pitiful whimper, as I needed to get his attention. Paul slowly turned. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. I could tell that he was trying very hard to stay calm, but I could smell the fear rolling off him. I sat back, hoping that he would fear me less that way.
“You were telling me the truth? You’re a fucking wolf?” he said more to himself than to me. His head fell back as he spoke to the ceiling, “Please, God, tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me I’m the one who’s crazy. There can’t be a freakin’ wolf in my bedroom.” Then he just stood silent for the longest time staring at me like he was terrified of me but at the same time afraid to look away.
After a while Paul seemed to gather himself. He inched his way closer, but it was still too much. I could hear his pulse begin to race out of control, and he stopped.
I couldn’t take it anymore. In this form, all my senses were heightened and overly sensitive. His panicked breathing and pounding heart, the smell of his fear, the redness around his eyes were tearing me up inside. I felt myself begin to twist—
Shit! Oh shit! Something was wrong. I was fighting to
maintain my form for the first time since I was sixteen. Growing more and more desperate, I got up and tried to hide from him on the other side of his bed. My body contorted and seized, and I recognized that my change was happening without my desire. I had no control.
Suddenly, I was lying on Paul’s floor, naked. I turned on my side and hugged my knees to my chest as my breaths became choking sobs. My world was imploding, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing at all.
I jumped when I felt Paul wrap his comforter around me. I tugged the blanket tightly around my shoulders and pushed myself up to sit on my knees. Through my tears, I saw Paul kneeling too. He waited before me with a mixture of curiosity and disgust in his eyes.
“You…you can’t tell anyone,” I cried. “They, my pack, will kill you if they find out that I told you.” Paul tried to shush me, but I had to get this out. “I promise, I’ll leave and never come back, but please understand: If you tell anyone, they will kill you. I don’t care what they do to me, but please don’t let them hurt you. I know that I’ve ruined everything. You could never love me now, but you have to know how sorry I am. I’m so, so sorry,” I cried.
He inched closer and gently yet somewhat hesitantly ran his hand up and down my back. “Shush. Shush…calm down,” he soothed. All too soon he stopped, though, and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to react or what to say. There are a million questions running through my head right now.”
“You can ask me anything. I don’t have anything left to hide.”
He stood up and began pacing his room. After popping his neck and every knuckle in his hands, he shook them out and stopped in front of me. I looked up at him as he let out a huge huff.
“Okay, were you born this way or bitten? How many werewolves are there in New Mexico? Are they everywhere? If werewolves exist, what else? Are vampires real too?” he asked, not pausing between questions for me to actually answer. Then he started mumbling to himself as he once again started nervously walking back and forth.