Chapter 7

Once back home, I collapse on my bed, completely exhausted. I lie here for a few moments until turning my head in the direction of my wardrobe, thinking. Then look towards my bedroom door which I left slightly ajar. I listen for a second. Sounds like Pauline's in the kitchen preparing dinner. I pull myself up, everything hurts, a shower will help sort that in a minute. I hobble over to the wardrobe my limbs and muscles are stiff from a days hard work. I gently pull open the door and sigh, looking at what my options are for tomorrow. I know what ever I wear she will make me feel stupid in or fat or ugly, the list goes on. Even the ones she picked out for me. I don't even want to touch them as I slide them out of the way. I look at the dress I mind-link to Erin about. Could I? Should I? Shit, I don't know. I pull it and hold it up to myself in the mirror. It's a figure-hugging, knee length, black lace dress with a v neckline. It was a classic style, one that never really goes out of fashion. With my curvy figure it could, look nice on me. As I let out another sigh, dropping the dress to my side, there's a slight knock on the door and father walks in 'shit' I think to myself hiding the dress behind me, as I turn and stand to some sort of attention.

" Just need to go over some small things for tomorrow... " He says, then going quiet, looking up at me from the paperwork in his hand. "Is that " pointing at the dress in my hand. I turn to look behind me realising I'm still standing in front of the mirror and he can see its reflection. 'Fuck' I close my eyes revealing the dress I instinctly tried to hide.

"Mother's? Yes." Waiting for the disapproval of even thinking about wearing it let alone to the alphas ball.

"Wow" he said as he slowly lowering himself to sit on the end of my bed, not taking his eyes off it. "I didn't know you had that. I thought all her clothes ended up lost or given away"

Yeah, lost I thought, lost as in his wife's got rid of them of the years, all of them trying so far to erase every bit of her from his life, guess that included me too.

Still staring at it, his eyes looked like they were welling up, first time in over a decade I've seen him get anything close to emotional at the memory of mother.

" Are you wearing that tomorrow?" Rubbing his hand over his face

"I I was thin...king about it " stumbling over my words not sure whether to be honest or not. Not knowing what his reaction could be, knowing what's Pauline's would be, especially if she knew it was mother's.

"You should, I mean if it fits?" I nodded at his words. " Your mother wore that to the alpha ball when I first met her" he said closing his eye as if imagining it as if he was seeing it all again for the first time. "I smelled her as soon as she entered the hall, but didn't know why or what it was until our eyes met and I knew she was my mate" I stood here looking at my father, he never talked about her like this. He stood up and cleared his throat. " Yes, I think you should wear that. It be perfectly acceptable"

"What about Pauline " I say trailing off.

"What about her?" Seeing me shy away and look down, knowing what I meant by that. "Fuck her" I looked up at him in shock not knowing how to react, not even daring to move. "Wear it" he said "your mother would want you too and so do I" I nodded again feeling my cheeks warming. " Plus it's fitting you wearing it to your first alphas ball just like she did" he turns to walk out the door.

"You said you had something to go over for.." He cuts me off,

"It can wait till morning " he left, shutting the door.

Letting out a deep breath, I hang the dress back up in my wardrobe so it's once again hidden at the very back. Picking my towel and head for the bathroom down the hall, my body crying for a shower, needing to wash all of today off me. I didn't have to worry about dinner being ready, I could smell the steaks from down stairs, knowing she won't waste a prime cut of meat like that on me. Anyway I had grad myself something from the lunch room at the packhouse knowing I'd be too tired to eat a real meal. The food tastes better from there anyway, everything in the house, especially Pauline's cooking always had a weird tang to it, left me feeling a bit sickly and an off taste or sensation in my mouth if I eat too much of it, which to be honest didn't happen very often. She did like to ration my food portions. She'd tell me I'd get fat if I ate too much and who would want a fat beta for a mate.