How Long Can A Leo Man Go Without Talking To You

I dated my lawyer boyfriend for five years. He canceled our wedding. Fifty-two times. First time? His intern messed up some paperwork. He ditched me at the beach to fix it. I waited all day. Alone. Second time, we were mid-ceremony when he bolted. Heard that intern was getting heat from another lawyer and left me to face the guests and their stares. After that, every time we tried again, there was always some "emergency" with her. Always. I finally hit my limit. I was done. Packed up and broke it off. But the day I left Ainsley? He totally lost it trying to find me.

One impulsive kiss to hide from an ex. One desperate contract to save a child. After a double betrayal by her boyfriend and best friend, Lyra impulsively kisses a handsome stranger in a grocery store to avoid being seen weak.That stranger turns out to be Lucas Thorne, a cold tech billionaire whose traumatized nephew Leo, has been silent since an accident. When Lyra is hired as Leo's specialist, the boy forms an unbreakable bond with her the only person who can bring back his voice. To ensure his son's recovery, Lucas proposes a one year marriage contract. But as Leo begins to speak and the fake family starts feeling real, Lyra and Lucas must decide if their marriage ends when the contract does, or if they're ready to admit that the healing wasn't just for the child it was for them too.

Two years after Theron Vex claimed me as his Mate, he finally held his marking ceremony. But the woman was not me.. "The child Nora carries is of Pack blood. I have to give them a proper status," I heard Theron say to his friend. "I'm just helping her out. I love Elara. She just needs to wait a little longer." But he had been saying that for six months. Ever since his brother—Nora's mate—died, he had chosen Nora over me, again and again. The first time he postponed our ceremony, it was because Nora had just found out she was pregnant and the pregnancy was unstable. The healer said she needed bed rest and could not be left alone. The second time, because she had a checkup at the hospital. The third time, because she said she felt the baby move and she wanted him to feel it too. There was always a reason. There was always something more important than me. I thought about our first year together. The way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. The way he told everyone I was his future Luna. The way he promised, “After the ceremony, you will be the Luna of the entire Pack.” I believed him. I waited. I kept waiting. Six months of waiting. Six months of “just a little longer.” I was tired. This time, I did not run to Theron and demand an explanation like I used to. I did not cry. I did not scream. I simply went home, packed my bags, and booked a plane ticket. Theron lost his mind later. He showed up at my research station in the Arctic, begging to make amends.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

My fiancé, Alpha Rowan, hated waiting. If a pack council ran late, he walked out. If a priest kept him waiting ten minutes, he canceled the blessing. For six years, I made sure he never waited for me. I waited for him instead. At the Full Moon Celebration, his assistant Celine wanted moon-laurel wine that was served only when the moon reached its highest point. Rowan stood in line with her for twenty minutes without checking the time once. While I watched from across the hall, he texted me. [The celebration is over. Go home. Do not wait for me.] I typed, “Okay,” then deleted it. In the end, I sent only one sentence. [I'm not waiting anymore.] That night, I submitted my application to leave the Blood Moon Pack. This time, I meant it.

I have been in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend, Eugene Walsh, for three years. I finally have enough leave time to visit him after working overtime for an entire month. But when I arrive, I can't reach him. I wait alone in an unfamiliar city for ten full hours before he finally replies. When the call connects, my best friend, Haley Woodward, greets me with a cheerful laugh. "Surprise! I explored Oakhaven for you in advance. It's so much fun! Eugene is an amazing tour guide!" She chatters nonstop about all the fun they've had, as if she never notices the 30 missed calls displayed on Eugene's phone. I listen quietly. Only when she says she's cold does Eugene finally take the phone from her and say to me, "I'll take her back to the hotel first. Wait for me a little while more." The moment he is done speaking, I ask, "Do you know how long I've been waiting?" Eugene pauses for a second before saying icily, "She's your best friend. Do you really have to compete with her over this?" The unmistakable accusation drains away any desire I have to keep talking. I hung up. Just then, the cab that will take me back to Centuria arrives. The driver takes one look at me and can't help but comment, "Miss, it's already past midnight. This area isn't very safe. How can your family leave you here all alone?" I look down at my shoes that are soaked through by snow and slush. In a soft voice, I say, "Yeah." Then, I smile and add, "They won't. Not anymore."