My mouth drops, and my heart sinks. “Charlotte.” I’m at a loss for words. Her mom? “Kathy?”
I swear I hear a sob start in her throat, but she quickly swallows it down. “Leave me alone. I’m not your Omega anymore.” She turns away from me, and I don’t stop her as she walks through the tunnel and leaves the stadium. This is worse than I ever thought it could be. The person in front of me didn’t seem like my Charlotte, myKulta.
I knew deep down that something bad had to have happened for her to run away, but I never expected that it would have been this bad. Never could have imagined that having our phones locked in a safe could cause this much damage in our lives. She’s been suffering with this for so long.
My ass is on the floor before I know it, my fingers tangled in my hair and my face on my knees as I try to compute everything that she just said. She feels like we abandoned her in the worst moment of her life. Charlotte’s biggest fear is being abandoned, and we did it when the most important person in her life was lost.Fuck.
Eli is shaking my forearm, and Mikael is next to him, staring down at me in the hallway when I’m out of my daze. “Where is she?” Eli asks hopefully.
I look back up at both of them, wondering if they can see the forming tears in my eyes. “It’s worse than we could have ever imagined.” Mikael’s brows are furrowed, and Eli looks at me in fear as I tell them everything Charlotte said.
All I know is that I need to find a way to take that hurt look off of her face. A way to make this better. I don’t care what has to be done. Charlotte is mine, and I’m not letting her go or letting her hurt for another minute.
“We need a plan,” Eli says, and I nod my head. Mikael stands, dusting off his pants.
“Leave her alone, that’s what she asked for.”
Eli and I both gape at him. “Did you not just hear what she said? Her mom fucking died.”
“She doesn’t want us. How can she make that any more fucking clear to you two? I’m devastated to hear about Kathy. But when Charlotte could have leaned on us, she left. Everyone fucking leaves. God, you two are so fucking naïve. I’ll see you back at home.”
“Jesus Christ, how did we get stuck with the most stubborn Alpha and Omega?” Eli asks.
“How are we going to fix this, Eli?”
He sighs and leans his head back against the wall. “I don’t know, but I did get her address.”
“How?”
“Told Lori to tell them we needed their IDs to come down to the locker room.” He holds up his phone and shows me the address.
“We missed her birthday,” I say sadly when I see the date. Not that she didn’t miss ours too.
“I think we just need to show her that even though she ran, we did everything we could to be better for her.”
I nod my head, liking this plan. “Let’s give her a few days to cool off.”
“Probably a good idea,” Eli says, even though all I can think about is driving over there right now and standing outside of her door until she lets me in.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say. It feels like déjà vu to all the times we promised each other that we would make this relationship work after we were drafted. And it feels like the odds are stacked further against us this time.
Chapter thirty-two
Myridehomefeelslike a blur as I finally open the townhouse door, throwing my purse inside and letting Hank out front to do his business. I sit on the front steps and wrap my arms around my body. The cold late-October air cools my skin, and I sigh.
Hazelnuts.
His scent. I didn’t realize how much I missed it, how all-consuming it was to be around Anders. The look on his face when I word vomited everything. The way his face fell when I told him about my mom. When his hand wrapped around my arm, I felt the warmth, and I craved it.
That’s the problem with scent matches. They make you need them; you become addicted to them, and then, when you need them the most, they aren’t there. But the look on his face was one of sadness, not anger or irritation with me. Anders has always been the most in tune with my needs, and he let me go tonight. He let me shout at him and be cruel to him, and he didn’t push me. Anders didn’t force me to stay; he didn’t chase after me and beg me to come back. I don’t know what’s worse, Anders giving me what I want or the fact that the deep-rooted Omega part of me wanted him to chase me.
I can still scent him on me. It’s thick and heavy, like I’m swimming in a hazelnut latte. I should wash it off, but I don’t. Instead I let Hank inside and sit by the fridge with a bag of shredded Monterey jack cheese, cookie dough, and a can of Pringles. I rotate between the three and hope that maybe salmonella will take me out before I have to actually process my feelings.
Being numb was so convenient. I shut down the feelings of regret over walking away. It was easier to be angry at them and push them away, avoid them, the emotions that are tangled up in them, and how I’m dealing—or not dealing with my mother’s death. It’s easier to shove it down, to protect myself from these feelings. I know if I let myself feel everything, if I process everything that’s happened, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick myself up again.
I give Hank a fist full of cheese before trickling a handful into my mouth. That’s how Piper finds me. In our dark kitchen, on the floor, stuffing my face with junk and petting Hank.
“Uh, Charles. Interview didn’t go well?”
