Five

SERAPHINA:

I didn't wait for the answer to his question before I grabbed my clothes in my hands and ran. I didn't stop. 

I couldn't stop because if I stopped that means I would have to feel all of it at once. 

Nadia called after me. I heard her but I kept on running. 

I found Damien's car keys on the entrance table where he always leaves them. 

I grabbed them without thinking and drove for forty minutes without having a specific location. I ended up at a bar on the edge of the pack territory. 

It was opened, thankfully. 

I didn't care that I was still in my wedding dress as I entered. If people wanted to fucking look at me, let them. 

Joe, I knew his name because he was putting on a name tag, he was somewhere in his fifties, broad shouldered, dark bearded. 

He locked eyes with me and pushed a glass of water in front of me without being asked. 

I pushed it aside 

“Joe," I said.  “Get me a whiskey, please"

He looked at my  dress, then at my face, he sighed and poured the whiskey anyway. 

I drank it in two swallows and put the glass down. I motioned for him to refill it and he did without a comment.

"Thank you," I said. 

"Rough morning?"

I laughed. "Something like that."

"You want to talk about it or you want to drink about it?"

I nodded. 

"Both." 

So I told him.

About the engagement. About the wedding I didn't want but talked myself into wanting. Marcus and Vivienne. And the fucking pregnancy report.

And Joe listened to all of them. He didn't interrupt me. He let me pour my heart out to him, something I didn't realize I wanted. 

"So he cheated," he said when I finished.

 I turned my whiskey glass in a slow circle. "And the worst part…the truly humiliating part is that I'm not even heartbroken about him. I'm just…" I stopped, searching for the word to describe how I felt. "Lonely. I'm heartbroken about being lonely. Does that make sense?"

He smiled. 

"I didn't even love him." I admitted quietly. I wasn't sure that he was still listening at this point but I continued. "I wanted to. I tried to. He was safe and he was available and he wasn't…" I stopped before I regretted it. 

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't who?"

I drank instead of answering.

"Ah," Joe said, with a smirk on his face. "Like that, is it?"

"It's not like anything. It's impossible and it's irrelevant and I'd fucking like another drink please."

He poured it. "What's his name?"

"I'm not telling you his name."

"Fair enough."

"He's older," I said, which I did not intend to say. "And he's… it's complicated."

Somewhere in the pack house Damien was… 

I drank again. Stop thinking about Damien. 

I looked at Joe. "How many crying women in wedding dresses have sat at your bar, Joe."

He pouted his lip, pressing his hands to his chest. "I am bound by an oath not to tell."

"That many?"

"Your secrets are safe with me if that's what you are worried about."

I smiled. By the third whiskey, I couldn't feel any pain anymore. 

By the fourth, the pearl buttons on my dress felt more like a joke the universe told at my expense.

By the fifth I was explaining the button situation to Joe.

"Twelve minutes," I told him. "Twelve minutes to fasten them and she ran out of nice things to say about him by button nine. Button nine, Joe. We didn't even make it to double digits."

"Well, I guess that's your sign," Joe said, handing a glass to someone else.

"Exactly!" I pointed at him again. I had been pointing at him a lot.  

Later, the bar filled up with a few more patrons, a low murmur of afternoon conversation like they needed somewhere to fit in. 

I fit right in.

I ordered another glass. I scoffed when Joe told me to be careful. I had been careful and where had it gotten me. 

The moment the glass touched my lips, I saw the reflection of a tall figure in the doorway among the glasses. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Broad shouldered. I watched as his eyes found me in the mirror. 

His body tensed up. 

I should be surprised. I should wonder how he found me but I didn't because somehow at the back of my mind I knew he would. 

Damien crossed the bar, moving through the space like he owned it and stopped at the stool beside me. 

He let out a breath. 

He looked at me, like really looked at me. 

Then his eyes moved to my ruined mascara, my beautiful useless dress and the moment his eyes met the five already empty whiskey glasses, he growled. 

“What are you doing here?" He asked, trying not to raise his voice. 

Joe looked between us and suddenly found something to do at the other end of the bar.

Traitor. 

The silence between us stretched. 

I ignored Damien. 

I picked up another glass and he yanked it away from me, his hands tightening around the glass 

I turned to face him, lifting my chin. My mind betrayed me with visions of the night he fucked me raw. The night I sucked on his cock and I knew I never wanted anything more. My chest tightened as he coldly asked me to forget about the night. 

And that was what I did. “How did you find me?"

“You took my car" he said, voice dangerously calm. 

I waved him off. 

“Sit down or go away,” I told him. "Those are the options “

His jaw tightened. He stared at me for some moments. I could feel his heat beside me. 

"You need to come back to the pack house,” he murmured.

"I am not… "

“It's about your parents." He said.