Things were well and truly over between me and Wyatt. There was no starting over for us. No umpteenth chance. No way back from this.
I’d officially lost him for good and I had no one to blame but myself.
***
Acceptance was turning out to be the hardest of the steps.
Maybe it was because I couldn’t distance myself from Wyatt. I felt him every single day whether it was at work or back on pack lands. That tugging in my belly never went away. If I couldn’t forget about him for even a few moments, how was I supposed to get over him?
Maybe it was because, even though I’d skated through all the stages of grief, I hadn’t been able to fully kick the denial. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that things were really over. He’d always come back to me in the past. It was hard to believe this time would be different, even though deep down I knew it was.
Maybe it was because I’d never felt this way about anyone before in my life.
Maybe it was because I wasn’t used to giving up.
I didn’t know.
There were a lot of things I didn’t know.
But one thing I did was this grieving nonsense was for the birds.
I was nose deep in some test results I’d just got back from the lab when that feeling in my belly intensified. I picked my head up and cocked it to the side as I felt Wyatt come closer and closer to me. He hadn’t ventured down this hall once in the week and a half we’d been open. Why was today different?
I shouldn’t have been surprised by the knock on my door, but I still startled at the obtrusive sound. I straightened my spine, brushed my wild hair away from my face and did my best to portray a calm front, even though everything inside me was the exact opposite.
“Come in,” I called.
Even knowing it was him, seeing Wyatt step through my door was a shock to my system. Despite my calm exterior, my heart was racing, and my palms were already sweating. I hadn’t been this close to him in days and I was feeling every minute of that time.
“What is it?” I did my best to keep my tone curt and not let on the affect he was having on me. It might have sounded rude, but it was the best I could do in this situation.
Wyatt didn’t seem to notice, his face already lined with worry. “It’s Ellie. She’s sick and I don’t know how to help her.”
Hearing my friend was in trouble pushed all thoughts of our situation out of my head. I lurched to my feet and scuttled around the desk. “Is she in her office?”
He nodded and fell in line as I hurried into the hall and down to Ellie’s room. The door was ajar, and I didn’t bother knocking before entering her office.
The smell of vomit permeated the air and I did my best not to react to it. “Ellie?” I called moments before my eyes latched onto her doubled over behind her desk. She looked up at me, her face pale with an almost green hue. It seemed like she was about to say something, but before she could, her face got even paler and she turned around to throw up again.
I hurried over to her side and rubbed her back as she heaved into her trash can. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I said, “Wyatt, go grab her a glass of water and a wet rag from the bathroom.”
He nodded and left the room so quickly, it was clear he was uncomfortable.
“I’ve never… heard you speak… so civilly to him… before,” Ellie gasped between retching.
I paused as I looked at the back of her head. I hadn’t realized she’d noticed my interactions with Wyatt, and I struggled to answer her. Finally, I said, “I speak to him civilly.”
She lifted her head and shot me a look I had no trouble interpreting, even with her resembling death warmed over. Moments later, she pressed her lips together before turning and vomiting again. I sighed and rubbed her back as she heaved on and off for the next few minutes.
There was finally a small break and she leaned back, sucking in large gulps of air. My heart broke for my friend as I peeled the damp hair off her sticky forehead. “Still think he’s not your fated mate?” I asked.
Honestly, I could be saying that exact phrase to myself. I felt the hypocrisy down to my bones, but I didn’t have time to think about my situation right then. I was focusing on Ellie.
Everyone knew that when fated mates were separated like Abey and Ellie were, that both would have withdrawal symptoms. Not eating, barely sleeping, headaches, and grogginess, were all signs you were missing your fated mate. I tried not to think how that might relate to me and just focused on Ellie.
Moments later, my attention split again as Wyatt came back into the room with the things I’d asked him to get. I placed the wet cloth on her head and got her to take a few small sips of water while doing my best to ignore the man across the room.
Her phone rang and I watched as she reached for it before changing her mind and shoving her head back in her wastebasket. With a sigh I said, “I’ll get it.”
It was Abraham, of course, and he was, unsurprisingly, worrying about his mate. Honestly, I was worrying about his mate too. But I assured him she was okay, and I was helping as much as I could. I finally got him off the
