Alpha King's Mate

41. Quiet

     I couldn't help but smile with my mother and father around; they were just too happy. Their faces and dispositions welcomed me at a time when I felt so isolated. When I blinked, we were back at home, in the pack house, sitting at the worn wooden kitchen table, having a meal as a family. It was nice.

I reminisced on the summers we would spend together and my dad's "secret" lemonade recipe that he actually found in the newspaper. We would race from the house through the front lawn and the town and down to the water. There was a thin stretch of sand we called our own little beach. It was Julia's favorite spot, and thus mine. We spent the sunny seasons relaxing and playing in that little place that I now missed more than anything.

Thinking of all of that happiness though, made me incredibly sad. My heart swelled and I cringed. It was embarrassing to be frank, just how much I had changed.

As a little girl I was so carefree and loud and excited to be alive. After Julia's death I understandably regressed, nevertheless I grew and distinguished the difference between right and wrong. I refused to be wed to a stranger. I committed treason for gods sake, because I would rather run the risk of imprisonment than the suppression of my values.

Then, all of a sudden I became this lovesick girl. A teenager, who had never fallen for a boy before, living out her dreams and childhood fantasies of being a princess. My soul stretched in every direction like watercolors on a canvas. I was drawn to him, not only by fate, but through genuine electricity. When I was with him I felt warm and safe and loved. I believed his words and the opportunities he gave me. He hurt me, and I would fall for him. I would sweep all of our baggage under the rug and I would live in the moment because I was excited again, to be in love and to experience all of the brand new happy things that life was offering me. I thought finally, after death and grief and hate and recovery and good, things might become great.

I now realize that I peaked just before I left home.

     On my last night there, my parents and I watched a movie. We drank hot chocolate and binged on snacks. We sat together on the couch, my mom between my dad and I, his arm stretched out behind us. I rested my head on my mom's shoulder and she hugged me to her chest. I don't think any of us were paying much attention to the movie.

I must have dozed off at some point toward the end of the film because when I woke up I was alone on the couch with a throw blanket tucked carefully around me. I peeked my eyes open and noticed my parents drinking what seemed to be tea at the coffee table in the living room. My mom's face wore a frown and her eyes dropped to the floor as her left hand clutched her mug.

My father grasped her hand and spoke, "She'll be fine. I know you're scared, I am too. I swear to god if I could do something to stop this I would, just to make you smile."

My mom smiled but her eyes still held sadness. She leaned into my father and the two just sat together in silence. I remember my heart breaking knowing that there was a chance I would never see them again. Yet, I knew they would want me to get the chance to have what they have. I wanted someone to sit in complete silence with and to feel comforted and content and safe.

After a few minutes I stood up from the couch and my parents turned their heads toward me.

"Did we wake you?" Asked my dad.

"No," I responded. "I'm going to go to bed. I love you."

"Love you," my mom shouted as I walked toward the stairs of the pack house. "Goodnight."