I don't want to think about what he's implying. Golden boy Callum, my best friend since we were kids, charming everyone with his smile and his money and his casual confidence, as someone who would hurt her.
But I also remember things. Small things. Things I tried to ignore because acknowledging them would mean I was a terrible friend.
The way Jessica got quieter over the years. The way she stopped laughing as much. The way she always seemed to check Callum's expression before she said anything, like she was asking permission.
I told myself I was imagining it. Projecting. Seeing what I wanted to see because it would make my feelings for her less of a betrayal.
Now I'm not so sure.
"It doesn't matter," I say, and my voice cracks. "Whatever happened between them, it's not our business. She's Callum's fiancée. We can't just—"
"Ex-fiancée," Carlos interrupts. "Pretty sure running from the altar cancels the engagement."
"Fine. His ex. But still his." I run my hands through my hair, frustrated with myself, with this whole situation. "They were together for years, then they broke up and he went back to her on bended knees and she took him back without hesitation. They have history. If anyone's going to help her through this, it should be him. Right?"
I'm asking them. Begging them to tell me I'm doing the right thing. Because I don't know anymore.
“But he must be the reason she ran!” Carlos says.
I don't have a response to that.
Carlos stops pacing and turns to face me. His eyes are bright. Intense. The same look he gets when he's about to do something stupid and knows it.
"I want to see her," he says.
My heart clenches. "Carlos..."
"I need to see her, Sergio. I need to know she's okay."
"I know. God, I know." I press my palms against my eyes. "You think I don't want the same thing? You think I'm not dying to get in my truck and drive over there? But we can't. She just left Callum. Our best friend. If we show up now, it looks like we're swooping in. Like we're vultures."
"Maybe we have been," Carlos says quietly.
"Don't." The word comes out sharper than I intended. "Don't say that. Callum is our friend. He's been our friend for years. We don't betray him like that."
"Even if he's been hurting her?"
"We don't know that!"
"Don't we?" Carlos takes a step toward me. "Sergio, we've all seen it. She changed after she got with him. She got smaller. Quieter. And we all just... let it happen. Because he's our friend and she's just... what? A girl?"
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" He looks around the room. At Pedro, stone-faced by the window. At Nacho, watching everything with those sharp eyes. At me, trying to hold this pack together when I'm barely holding myself together.
"We all felt it," Carlos continues, and his voice breaks. "Don't pretend we didn’t, but then again they’re both betas, so this made letting go of her easier. Accepting that they matched.”
Carlos's eyes are wet now. "He asked her out first. We just... accepted it. Because he's our friend."
"Because that's what friends do," I say, but my voice is shaking.
“Betas don't control their girlfriends. They don't..." He stops. Swallows hard. "I've heard things, Sergio. Rumors. About howhe treats her. About how she's changed since she moved away with him."
"Rumors aren't facts," I say weakly.
"No. But she's sitting on a porch in a ruined wedding dress, and that's a fact." He holds my gaze, and I see tears on his cheeks now. "Something broke her. And I don't think it was cold feet."
The room is silent except for the tick of the clock on the mantel. The same clock that marked time while we grew up, while we became a pack, while we built lives that were supposed to be complete.
