GABRIEL
Alpha Leo had just left the room, leaving a silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. Or, in my case, with a poorly timed joke.
"Mia," I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "Can we talk? Like, really talk?"
She crossed her arms, eyeing me like I was a puzzle missing a few too many pieces. "Talk? Gabriel, you've done enough talking for two lifetimes."
I scratched the back of my neck, a nervous habit I picked up somewhere between adolescence and becoming an alpha. "Yeah, but this time, I promise, no jokes about your cooking."
"That's not funny, Gabriel."
"See? I'm learning."
Mia sighed, the kind of sigh that said, 'I'm about to drop a bomb on you, and not the fun, glittery kind.' "Gabriel, I don't love you. It's over."
I blinked, once, twice, maybe a dozen times. "Over? Like, 'see you after dinner' over, or like, 'cancelled TV subscription' over?"
"Gabriel, I'm serious."
I took a step forward, a smile still playing on my lips despite the sinking feeling in my stomach.
