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CATRIONA

It’s been four years since I gave birth to our son, Abriel, and life hasn’t been the same. Initially, I thought Jayden was adjusting to fatherhood, the stress of leading the pack and raising a family weighing heavily on him. But as the years passed, his demeanour shifted in ways I couldn't explain.

At first, it was subtle. He would come home late, brushing off my questions with vague excuses about pack duties. The warmth in his eyes when he looked at me started to fade. By the time Abriel turned three, the distance between us became painfully obvious. Jayden’s touch, once filled with love and desire, turned cold and mechanical. The man who used to shower me with affection and reassure me with every glance now avoided eye contact altogether.

I’ve tried to talk to him, to understand what’s going on, but every conversation ends the same way—in a quarrel. He’d deflect my questions or grow defensive, turning the blame on me for “reading too much into things.” His dismissive tone would leave me feeling small, as though my concerns weren’t valid.

What hurts the most is the way he’s pulled away from Abriel. Our son adores him, always running to greet him with open arms, only to be met with a forced smile or a half-hearted pat on the head. I’ve caught Abriel staring after him with confused eyes, wondering why his father doesn’t seem as eager to play with him anymore. It breaks my heart.

“You won’t believe what’s been going on, Miss Oliver,” I continued, my voice trembling as I poured my pain out to her. The weight of my emotions finally spilt over, words tumbling out faster than I could control. I paused, waiting for some sort of response, but all I heard was the steady rhythm of her breathing. She was sound asleep.

I let out a long sigh, my frustration mixing with amusement. Fighting back tears, I chuckled softly and muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gently, I slipped out of her bed, careful not to disturb her. Abriel was nestled against her, his tiny arms wrapped tightly around her waist. I couldn’t help but smile as I pulled the covers over them, tucking them in snugly. Leaning down, I placed a tender kiss on Abriel’s forehead. “Goodnight, my sweet boy,” I whispered before slipping out of the room quietly.

The house was silent as I made my way to the couch. I sank into it, my body feeling heavy with exhaustion and unspoken emotions. My phone sat on the coffee table, its screen lighting up the dim room as I picked it up. It was late—too late to be staring at my messages, but I couldn’t help myself.

Opening the message I had sent to Jayden earlier that afternoon, my heart sank. I’d told him that Abriel and I had come to Miss Oliver’s house, hoping he’d at least acknowledge it. But even after reading the message, he hadn’t bothered to reply. The small “read” notification felt like a slap in the face, a glaring reminder of how far apart we had grown.

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard, debating whether to send another message. But what was the point? With a deep sigh, I set the phone down, leaning back into the couch. The silence of the night surrounded me, amplifying the ache in my chest. I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stay at bay, and let the stillness of the moment wash over me and I began to drift, the silence of the house enveloping me in a fleeting sense of peace. But then, the sound of my phone vibrating on the coffee table sliced through the stillness. I jolted upright, heart racing. Could it be him? Jayden?

I grabbed my phone with trembling hands, almost afraid to look. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the caller ID. It wasn’t him. It was Sandra. My hopes deflated in an instant, but I swiped the screen anyway, desperate for any kind of connection. “Hello?” My voice came out strained, tired like I was holding on by a thread.

“Catriona?” Sandra’s voice was gentle, tinged with concern. “Are you staying overnight?”

I sighed, sinking back into the couch, the weight of my frustration mingling with the exhaustion in my bones. “Yeah,” I replied flatly.

“Alright,” Sandra continued, her voice soft. “I was just worried since the alpha came back without you guys. I thought you must’ve…”

“Wait, Sandra,” I cut her off, my pulse quickening, my mind spinning. “Did you just say Jayden is back?”

A silence followed that felt like it stretched on for eternity. My heart raced in my chest, the quiet almost suffocating. Why wasn’t she answering me?

“Answer me, Sandra!” I snapped before I could stop myself. The words were sharper than I intended, the frustration I’d been holding inside leaking out. “Is he back at the pack house?”

“Oh shit,” Sandra’s voice faltered, a hint of panic in her tone. “Did I just cause a problem?”

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to rein in the anger that flared within me. I couldn’t let it get the best of me, not right now. I swallowed hard, lowering my tone, my voice quieter. “Forgive me, Sandra, for snapping. Just… just answer my question. Is Jayden back at the pack now?”

There was another pause, longer this time, and I could hear Sandra’s breath on the other end. “Yeah, he is. He came back a while ago.”

I hung up the phone without another word, the weight of her words settling on me like a ton of bricks. My hands trembled as I stared at the screen, the sudden rush of emotions too much to contain. He was back. And yet… he hadn’t bothered to reply to me. He hadn’t even acknowledged my message. I had to fight to keep the tears at bay. The last thing I wanted was to let my emotions spiral, to let them cause any more damage. Jayden… he was the father of our son, Abriel. No matter what had happened between us, I still loved him. But I couldn’t ignore the distance between us, the coldness that had taken root in his eyes.

And the thought of him slipping further away, of him pulling away from Abriel. From us… It was breaking me.

The soft voice of Miss Oliver broke through my thoughts. “You go and talk to him, child.”

I looked over at Miss Oliver, who was standing at the bedroom door, her gentle eyes fixed on me with a knowing gaze.

“Was I too loud?” I asked, feeling a pang of guilt for possibly waking her up.

She smiled faintly, the lines of her face softening. “A little. But I understand. You can leave Abriel here with me. Go home and talk to him. Who knows, you might come up with some solutions.”

She paused, her tone becoming more serious. “You have to, Catriona. You have a son. He may not be able to speak, but he hears and watches everything. He’ll know the tension, the silence between you and Jayden. It’ll affect him, whether you want it to or not.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words hitting me in a way I wasn’t ready for. But it was true. We had to try. We had to find a way to bridge the distance between us for Abriel's sake.

With a sigh, I stood up, my legs shaky but determined. “Alright, Miss Oliver. I’ll go. I’ll be back to get him in the morning.”

She gave me a reassuring nod. “Go, child. Talk to him. And take care of yourself, too.”

I grabbed my phone and car keys, the weight of what I was about to do hanging over me. I started the car and drove off, the road ahead stretching long and endless. The drive to the Red Moon Pack felt like an eternity, but eventually, I arrived. It was late, and the quiet of the pack grounds only added to the weight in my chest.

I headed straight to our room. As I opened the door, I found Jayden on the phone, talking about his werewolf school, his voice steady and focused. The sight of him like that—so casual, so detached—stirred something inside me. I felt a surge of frustration rise, but I held it back, forcing myself to stay calm.

When he finished his call, he turned to me. "Hey, you're back," he said as if it was just another mundane greeting. He didn’t ask how his son’s day had been, or if I’d brought him back with me.

I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting to keep my emotions in check. What’s really wrong with you, Jayden? I asked. Why are you doing this to me? Are you punishing me for something I did, something I didn’t even know I did?

He casually placed his phone on the nightstand and walked toward me, unbuttoning his shirt. “Are we having this conversation again?” he asked, his voice flat, almost bored. “Aren’t you tired of it?”

I felt a sharp, bitter laugh bubble up inside me. Tired of it? No. What I was tired of was watching you slip further away, like you don't care at all.

“Like seriously, Jayden?” I said, my voice tight, barely holding back the storm inside me. “You get time to call and talk about your werewolf school, but you don’t have a minute to ask about your son?”

“Are you mad because I didn’t reply to your message?” Jayden asked, his tone cold, as if trying to downplay everything. “If that’s the case, I’m sorry, okay? I was just caught up in work. I knew you two were okay, so I didn’t need to call.”

His words hit me like a slap to the face. I could feel my blood boil, the anger I’d been suppressing for years finally boiling over. I took a step toward him, my voice rising with each word.

“Jayden,” I snapped, unable to contain myself any longer. “Abriel is your son! He needs love and affection from his father, but you don’t give him any of that. It’s like he doesn’t even exist to you! Tell me—was he not the child you wanted? Is it because he’s deaf?”

His face twisted, the words coming out sharp. “Stop it, Catriona,” he growled, his frustration matching mine. “What more do you want me to do when your son doesn’t even like me? Do you think I don’t see that? He always runs away from me whenever he sees me. What else do you want me to do that I don’t? Tell me! Because I feed him, I clothe him, and I love his mother, whom he loves so much. Unless you’re telling me I don’t meet your needs and you’re using your son to get back at me. Is it money you don’t get enough of? Is it sex? Do I not satisfy you in bed? Do you fake your orgasms to excite me? Answer me, Catriona!”

The words hit me like a slap, cutting me so deep. I couldn’t contain myself any longer. My palm shot out, the sting of the slap echoing through the room.

Jayden flinched, but I didn’t stop. I raised my hand for a second strike, fury burning in my chest but he grabbed my wrist, his grip tight as he pulled me toward him, his eyes burning with frustration.

“You need to stop this drama, Catriona,” he growled, his voice raw with exhaustion. “I’m tired of it.”