Wolf in Sheep Clothing

Alone

It's been a while since I've greeted you my ghosts. Guess I have been a most terrible host. If it seems that I am often absent and you fear my abandonment, know that I'll always be sure to give you another chapter every Sunday. 

"Are you lonely?" A younger Tory asked his cooking mother, back turned to her son, she responded with a half amused.

"What?"

"We talked about mating today" Tory explained, tapping the back of his blue ball tip pen on the wooden table next to his half-done homework. His mother turned to give him her attention, but not before shutting her eyes and taking a deep silent breath. Preparing herself for a conversation she planned on having later. Years later. 

"Wolves mate with their destined, they love and have kids together" Tory continued, unaware of his mother's discomfort.

He was younger then, simple to the point of foolish. The Tory 25 would have immediately dropped the conversation the moment he saw the strained smile on her lips. The ones that darkened her eyes and gave her those aging crest beneath her lower lids.

But as a child, his interest was peaked and so he saw nothing but a means to quench his curiosity and make sense of the confusion in his mind.

"Mom, you don't have a mate," He said, caramel eyes staring up to meet anxious pairs. His mother approached him slowly, softly. That smile on her lips bothering on the line between real and sad as she placed a hand on his, stopping the annoying tic tic tic of his pen against the table.

"But I have you!" She says.

"Am I enough?" Tory questioned. They had been learning all about mate for a whole week already. Every time there was a break, his friends and classmates would only talk about their parents, and the stories they've been told about their meeting as destined mates. They said that their moms and dads would always smile really big whenever they saw each other. He wanted his mother to smile too.

"Yeah," Veronica forced a laughed, moving her hand to ruffle his silver strands. "Your a handful" she joked, expecting his usual frown and protest and receiving a blank stare.

"Do you not have a mate because of me?" He asked.

Veronica pulled away from her child and signed, turning to face the stove where diner of pasta bolognese was still on the fire. With two quick strives, she switched off the heat and with another two steps she was sitting opposite of her son.

For a moment no one spoke. Despite questions running wild in his little head. Not even the younger Tory could find it in him to speak. Finally, Veronica chooses her words.

"I had a mate once," She says and then stopped. She'd prepared for so long for this conversation. She always knew, to some extent, that it would happen far earlier then she would like. That was the cliche, wasn't it? That kids were always more aware than their parent wanted them to be. Tory was no different, he was very curious and smart. He was 10, of course, he would notice their differences.

That they were two were others were three or more. That they moved when most stayed still. That she worked odd jobs and he took strange pills when at first, second and third glance, there was nothing wrong with him. He never asked though, he'd been patient and understanding towards her silence.

But patience was measurable, and his had run out. He didn't want to wait anymore.

But she wasn't ready to tell him just yet.

"Is he my father?" Tory asked. Veronica stiffened, ran a hand through her tangled unwashed hair and signed.

"No, he isn't" She responded after a moment. Making no move to add any more information to the conversation.