My mom rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Now that’s a lie. You make anyone better by being around them.”
I bark out a laugh. “Mom, comeon.”
“You make me better, Blair. And you sure as hell make your father a better person.” My mom narrows her eyes. “I won’t argue about this. You’re the best thing that’s happened to us.”
“That pedestal is way too high, mom. Seriously. It’s also not accurate. Maybe because you’re my parents you have to think that, but with them, it was different.”
“How so? What made you think you weren’t good for them?” My mom joins me on the bed, looking at me curiously.
Memories of Rowan’s wrecked car fill my head, and I wince and shake my head.
They could have died because of me,I want to say.
People have already died because of me.
“Mom, please.” I pull back the covers and begin to climb into bed. “I don’t want to talk about them.”
“Is it because of what happened to your other pack?”
I freeze. “No.”
“Because you know that wasn’t your fault, right?” my mom presses. “You can’t still seriously blame yourself for what happened, right?”
I open and close my mouth, unable to find the words to speak.
Mervin and Marlin make their appearance, jumping onto the bed with their grandma. They prance around the comforter until they find a space they like and curl up on the fabric.
“Mom,” I croak, looking between her and the cats. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“But it’s not your fault,” my mom insists, her eyes suddenly glassy. “They were such sweet boys, and it was terrible, but it’s not because of you.”
Something about the way she looks at me and the tone of her voice makes fire ignite in me.
“They would have been alive if I had them stay with me that night,” I snap.
“Is that what Annette told you?” my mother counters, her voice rising. “That hateful bitch doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
I ignore her and continue. “And my new pack? They got into an accident on their way to pick me up for a date. So yes, mom, history repeats herself, and I’m bad fucking luck for people that want to date me.”
I’m seething. She shouldn’t be the target of my anger, but it spews out of me, vile and putrid. I feel ill, and I have little patience after everything that’s happened. The last person I want is my own mother consoling me about something she doesn’t understand.
“Honey, you don’t control the weather, you don’t control someone’s life?—”
“But if I wasn’t in their lives then it wouldn’t happen! This ismy fault!”
I can’t remember the last time I’ve spoken to her like this. Maybe when I was a rebellious teenager and my hormones were going wild.
But even Mervin and Marlin are concerned, peeking up at me curiously, their black ears turned back.
“Mom,” I continue, staring into her wide eyes, “Travis, Rowan, Ryland—” I wince as I say their names—“are my scent matches. They’remadefor me. Literally meant for me in life.”
“Your soulmates,” my mom breathes. “You found your soulmates.”
“Sure. If you want to call it that.” My voice trembles.
“Oh, Blair, then you shouldn’t?—”
“And they were hurt,becauseof me. Mom, it’s better if I’m not in their lives and they’re still here, than if I’m in their life and something happens to them.”
