Jaime usually fed her every morning without fail. My stomach dropped. I straightened, scanning the room. Jaime’s side of thebed was empty, sheets rumpled but cold. His bag still sat by the chair.
He hadn’t left. So where was he?
A prickle of unease slid down my spine, subtle but insistent. My wolf stirred beneath it, a low restlessness that had nothing to do with hunger or sleep.
“Okay,” I murmured. “Okay.”
I forced myself to breathe. He probably just stepped out for an early morning walk to get some fresh air. He hadn’t slept well. Neither of us had. That made sense. So why did my chest feel tight?
“Phone,” I muttered, patting the nightstand, then the bed.
I dug under the pillow, fingers brushing against smooth glass. There. I unlocked it with clumsy hands. There was one unread message.
Jaime: Went to check out the dog relief area. Will be back soon.
The timestamp stared back at me. It was early. I frowned. The dog relief area. Where was that again?
Had we walked it together? My mind tried to picture it, came up frustratingly blank. My thoughts skidded, refusing to settle.
Why was he up so early? Because he couldn’t sleep, I reminded myself sharply. I’d left him alone with his thoughts after snapping at him, and I’d chosen pride over honesty.
Guilt bloomed, hot and sour. Still, the unease didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened.
My wolf shifted under my skin, alert now, pacing. It wasn’t panic. Not yet.
It was the same feeling I got before something went wrong. Before instincts started whispering that I’d missed a step.
“I’m being paranoid,” I told myself quietly.
I leaned down, resting my forearms on my knees, watching Pampi finish her breakfast. She glanced up at me, tail wagging once, trusting and calm.
I wished I felt the same. Images from last night replayed uninvited. Jaime’s closed-off expression. How easily I’d let him think I didn’t trust him. How unfair that was.
He’d defended me. I knew that now, even if it had taken Levi spelling it out. Jaime didn’t hand out trust lightly, and when he did, it mattered.
I’d repaid that by sulking, by drinking, by snapping when he questioned something that deserved a calm answer. I’d hurt him, and Jaime had been hurt a lot. The thought sat heavy in my chest.
I stood and paced the room once, then twice, my footfalls soft against the carpet. I glanced at the door again, half-expecting it to open any second. Nothing.
“Come on,” I muttered. “Come back already.”
I hated this feeling. The waiting. The not knowing. The realization that I’d created distance when what I wanted most was closeness. If something happened to him…
I cut that thought off sharply.
Nothing had happened. He was fine. Jaime was competent, cautious, and more than capable of taking care of himself. This wasn’t about danger. This was about me.
About how quickly I let my insecurities turn sharp and how easily I’d forgotten that partnerships weren’t about keeping score or proving worth in silence. They were about talking, even when it was uncomfortable.
Levi was right, and if I didn’t fix this soon, I might lose something I hadn’t even fully admitted I wanted yet. Pampi finished eating and trotted over, nudging my knee with her nose.
“Yeah,” I whispered, crouching to scratch her chest. “I know. I messed up.”
She licked my hand, forgiving without conditions. I wished I deserved that same grace. I straightened as footsteps sounded faintly in the hallway outside our door, my heart jumping despite myself.
Please be him, I thought.Please.
The tension finally snapped. I yanked the door open, heart already in my throat, wolf surging forward like it had claws instead of instincts… and nearly collided with a stranger.
