I rolled my eyes and pushed off the couch, officially done with this stupid-ass conversation. “Thanks for the pep talk, dickhead.”
“Anytime. Now quit being a fucking bitch and get over yourself,” he called as I stomped down the hall.
Fuck, with advice like that, it was no wonder I was in the situation I was in. But Wes was right. I never should have gone after someone like Callie. It was my own damn fault I fell for someone so far out of my league. And now I was paying the price for my stupidity.
Chapter 32
Callie
Denial.
Based on my hours of research last night, that was the first stage of grief, and I guessed that was what was happening to me. I was grieving. And I was in denial.
I was in denial that I’d met my fated mate.
I was in denial that Wyatt left me.
And I was certainly in denial that on only the second day that my business was open, someone had already vandalized the property.
I stood there, staring at the poor cat nailed to the front door and wondered how things had gone downhill so fast. One minute, I was happy. Enjoying this man who seemed to be everything I’d ever wanted and even some things I didn’t know I wanted until I got them. Next thing I knew, he was my fated mate and he was leaving me because I wouldn’t go public.
But he’d be back.
There was no way things were really over between us.
He’d realize he was wrong just like he had in the past and he’d come apologize once he’d cooled off. He’d understand that I didn’t want to tell my family or the pack about us. He’d get that saying the L-word was too big of a step for me. He’d stop asking for more and just be happy with what I gave him.
And in the meantime, I needed to figure out this mess with the dead cat.
Unfortunately, it was apparent this message was for Ellie. The cat nailed to the front door looked exactly like the pet she’d brought with her to live in Asheville. Thankfully, Abey had already confirmed her beloved Charlie was alive and well, but that didn’t change anything. This cat was still dead, and the message was clear–someone was out to get Ellie.
I didn’t know what we were going to do about this, but I knew my brother had called one of his enforcers to come down to the office to help. Usually, I kept out of alpha and enforcer business, but this was my organization and it looked like I had no choice but to be involved this time.
As I sat with her in the waiting room, I didn’t know whether I wanted it to be Wyatt on his way down here or not. Sure, I missed him, but if he wasn’t ready to apologize and move past this, I had nothing more to say to him.
When a maroon Suburban pulled up out front, my heart rate settled a bit. Some part of me held out a tiny bit of hope it might be Wyatt in there, but it was dashed as soon as Wes hopped out of the driver’s seat.
Fine.
That’s fine.
I didn’t want to see him anyway.
I left my brother arguing with Ellie in the lobby and headed back to my office. Despite the dead cat and whatever ramifications would come from it, I had work to do. We’d hit the ground running and I didn’t have time to slow down. I finally had the office space and lab I’d been dreaming about, and nothing was going to stop me.
Except, of course, the fact that I could barely keep my eyes open.
I’d had a long, restless night and had no hopes of tonight being any better. Which meant copious amounts of caffeine were in order.
I picked up my mug to take a sip, but soon realized I’d need a refill. My third of the day already and it wasn’t even noon. With a sigh, I grabbed my mug that said There’s No Planet B and left my office.
It wasn’t until I was halfway to the break room, my eyes on the linoleum floor, that I realized something was tugging on my lower belly. I stopped short in the hallway and slowly raised my eyes, finding first a set of old work boots, and then a well-loved pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, before finally reaching the face attached to the body. One that instantly made my heart race and my hands shake.
Wyatt was here.
In my building.
I watched him carefully as he leaned against the wall, scrolling through his cell. I knew the exact moment he realized I was there because his shoulders stiffened and his thumb froze above his phone screen. With torturously slow movements, he lifted his head and turned in my direction.
His gaze met mine for a brief moment, barely long enough for that connection between us to flare to life, before he broke eye contact. His head dipped slightly as he gave me the briefest once over and then turned back to his phone.
I stood there, frozen in the middle of the hall as I watched him ignore me.
I waited and waited for him to acknowledge my presence.
For him to come to his senses and apologize to me.
For him to wrap me in his arms and tell me our fight was over and things could go back to the way they were.
Heck, for him to even say hello, but he did none of that.
Instead, he
