Chapter 24

My Cheating Mate

Jeremy pov

I made it to the bathroom and back without assistance for the first time today. Fifteen steps each way. A month ago, I could run for miles in wolf form without breaking a sweat. Now thirty steps left me winded and shaking.

But it was progress.

Dr. Reeves said I could be discharged by the end of the week if I continued improving. Back to my empty house, back to my duties as future Alpha, back to a life that no longer included Emma sitting beside my bed every day.

The thought made my chest tight.

She was reading again, curled up in that uncomfortable hospital chair that she'd spent more hours in than her own bed. Some romance novel with a werewolf on the cover—I'd caught glimpses of the story when she read aloud to me. It was about second chances, about mates who'd been separated and found their way back to each other.

I wondered if she'd chosen it deliberately. If she was trying to tell me something, or if she was trying to convince herself that happy endings were possible.

"You're staring," she said without looking up from her book.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"About?" She marked her page and set the book down, giving me her full attention.

"About you leaving. About going back to my empty house. About—" I paused. "About Vanessa's trial."

Emma's expression hardened at the name. "What about it?"

"My father came by this morning while you were getting coffee. The council postponed the trial date. They want me well enough to testify in person." I shifted against the pillows, my ribs still aching. "It's scheduled for two weeks from now."

"Two weeks." Emma processed this. "Are you going to be ready?"

"Physically? Maybe. Emotionally?" I laughed bitterly. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready to face her again."

"You don't have to testify if you're not ready. They have plenty of evidence—"

"No. I need to." I met her eyes. "I need to stand up in front of the pack and tell them exactly what she did. What I let her do. All of it."

Emma was quiet for a moment. "It's going to be brutal. They're going to ask about the affair, about the attack, about everything."

"I know. But it's part of taking responsibility. Part of showing everyone—showing you—that I'm done hiding from the truth." I paused. "Are you going to testify?"

"Yes. Your father asked me to. I have to tell them about overhearing your conversation, about the video evidence, about the rogue attack at the motel."

The video. I'd almost forgotten she still had that. Had she watched it again? Tortured herself with it? Or had she deleted it, ready to move forward?

"I'm sorry you have to relive all of that," I said quietly.

"It's not your fault the trial was postponed."

"But it's my fault it happened in the first place." I looked down at my hands, scarred now from the fight. "Emma, when you testify, when you show that video to the council—I want you to know I won't fight it. Won't try to defend myself or minimize what happened."

"I know. You've been pretty clear about that."

"And after?" I forced myself to ask the question that had been haunting me. "After the trial, after I'm discharged, when you take that space you need—how long do you think?"

She looked at me with something like sadness. "I don't know. There's no timeline for healing from betrayal, Jeremy. It could be weeks. Could be months. Could be—"

"Forever," I finished. "It could be forever."

"It could be," she admitted. "Are you going to be okay with that? Really okay? Not just saying you are but actually accepting it if I decide I can't do this?"

The honest answer terrified me. No, I wouldn't be okay. Losing Emma would destroy me in ways that bullets and claws never could. But I'd meant what I said about accepting her choice.

"I'll have to be," I said. "Because you deserve to make that choice without guilt or pressure. You deserve to choose what's best for you, even if that choice breaks my heart."

Emma's eyes glistened. "Why do you have to say things like that? It would be so much easier if you were still an asshole."

"Would it?"

"Yes! Then I could hate you properly. Could walk away without all this—" she gestured between us, "—confusion and hope and fear all tangled up together."

I wanted to reach for her hand but forced myself to stay still. Let her come to me if she wanted contact.

"I don't want to make this harder for you," I said. "But I can't pretend I don't love you. Can't pretend I'm not terrified of losing you permanently."

"I'm terrified too," she confessed. "Of trusting you again. Of getting hurt again. Of waking up one day and realizing I've made the same mistake twice."

"It won't be the same mistake," I said firmly. "Because I'm not the same person who made it the first time."

"How do I know that? How do I know you've really changed and this isn't just guilt talking? Or fear of being alone?"

It was a fair question. One I'd been asking myself.

"You don't," I admitted. "You can't know for sure. That's what makes trust so hard—it requires a leap of faith. But Emma, I can tell you what's different now."

"Tell me."

"Before, I took you for granted. Thought the mate bond meant you'd always be there no matter what I did. I didn't value what we had because I was too busy wanting something else." I paused, making sure she was really hearing me. "Now? I know exactly what I lost. I've felt the emptiness of not having you in my life. And I would rather die than go back to that."

"You almost did die."

"I know. And every time I woke up and saw you there, even after everything I'd done, I knew I'd been given a gift I didn't deserve. A chance to show you who I could be instead of who I was."

Emma stood and moved to the window, her back to me. "The pack is going to judge us. When this comes out at the trial, when everyone knows the details—they're going to have opinions about whether I should forgive you."

"Fuck what they think."

She turned, surprise on her face. "What?"

"I said fuck what they think. This isn't about them. It's about you and me. About whether we can build something real from the wreckage I created." My voice was fierce now. "I don't care if the whole pack thinks you're crazy for giving me another chance. I don't care if they think I should be exiled or executed or whatever. All I care about is you. What you need. What you want."

"I wish I knew what I wanted," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Some days I want to forgive you and try again. Some days I want to run and never look back. And some days I just want to go back to before any of this happened."

"We can't go back."

"I know."

"But maybe—" I stopped myself. "No. I'm not going to pressure you. I promised I wouldn't."

"Say it," she said, moving closer to the bed. "Whatever you were going to say."

"I was going to say maybe we don't need to go back. Maybe we can go forward. Build something new. Something better than what we had because it's based on honesty instead of obligation."

"And Vanessa?" Emma's voice hardened. "What do you want to happen to her?"

The question caught me off guard. But the answer came immediately, visceral and certain.

"Death," I said flatly. "She hired rogues to attack pack members. She tried to kill you—my mate, the future Luna. She orchestrated an assault that left seven of our wolves dead and dozens injured. Pack law is clear. That's a capital offense."

"You want her executed."

"I want her to face justice for what she did. If the council decides that justice is execution, then yes. She deserves death."

Emma studied my face, looking for something. "You loved her once."

"I thought I did. But Emma, what I felt for Vanessa was nothing compared to what I feel for you. She was a fantasy. You're real. And she tried to take you from me. Tried to hurt you to punish me for choosing—" I stopped.

"For choosing what?"

"For choosing you. Finally. Too late, but choosing you anyway." I met her eyes. "At that pack meeting, when you didn't show the video, when you showed me mercy I didn't deserve—that's when I really understood. You're not the weak, compliant mate I thought I could control. You're strong. Stronger than me. And that's what I should have seen from the beginning."

Tears streamed down Emma's face now. "Stop making me cry in hospitals."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," I agreed. A small smile. "But I am sorry for everything else. And I'll keep being sorry, keep proving it, for as long as it takes."

She moved to the bed and sat on the edge, close but not touching. "The trial is going to change things. Once everything is public, once the pack knows all the details—we won't be able to hide in this hospital room anymore."

"I know."

"Are you ready for that?"

"No. But I'll do it anyway. For the pack. For justice." I paused. "For you."

Emma finally took my hand, her fingers threading through mine. "Then I guess we face it together. The trial. The judgment. Whatever comes after."

"Together?"

"For now," she qualified. "I'm not promising anything beyond that. But Jeremy? For now, we're in this together."

It wasn't everything. It wasn't forgiveness or reconciliation or the future I desperately wanted.

But it was something.

And right now, something was more than I'd thought I'd get.

Two weeks until the trial. Two weeks until Vanessa faced justice. Two weeks until Emma and I had to face the pack and the consequences of everything that had happened.

I squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," she said. "This is going to get worse before it gets better."

She was right. The trial would be brutal. The pack's judgment would be harsh. And there was no guarantee that Emma and I would survive it intact.

But at least we'd face it together.

For now, that had to be enough.