7 Chapter 7
The salty sea breeze stung my face.
Above me, Lily’s laughter rang out, light and carefree.
I lifted my gaze.
There he was.
Brooks.
He stood on the balcony, blow–drying her hair, his movements slow, deliberate–loving.
Familiar.
A scene had once been part of, now playing out with someone else in my place.
It should have been me.
But I was nothing more than a bystander now.
Lily leaned into him, utterly at ease in his arms. And I…
I couldn’t move.
Her laughter froze me in place.
I squeezed my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms.
What if I told him the truth?
That I was his mate.
Would he believe me? Would he remember?
Or would he only pity me?
I didn’t want his sympathy.
I wanted his love.
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By the time I managed to pull myself together and return to my room, it was already past
midnight.
Doctor Reynolds was still awake.
“With Alpha’s keen sense of smell, he must have figured out who we are by now.”
I nodded. “I know.”
Brooks wasn’t just intelligent–he was calculated.
Even if he didn’t fully remember, he had to have noticed Julian’s forced familiarity with me.
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“Did Julian tell him about the elders?”
Silence.
Then finally, Doctor Reynolds sighed. “He said it was an accident.”
That was the only excuse that made sense.
“Alpha said he’ll return to the pack with us after the wedding”
I ran my fingers over my ring, the cool metal grounding me.
A long pause.
Then, I whispered, “He’s getting married. He should bring his mate back to visit. He should.”
Doctor Reynolds hesitated. “Did Alpha ask you?”
My mind flashed back to that moment at the door.
He had asked.
And I had said nothing.
“Don’t worry,” I murmured.
Doctor Reynolds’s expression darkened. “Ava, you know that’s not what we meant.”
A sharp pain shot through my stomach. I pressed a hand against it, swallowing down the
ache.
“But that’s what I meant.”
Ten years.
From eighteen to twenty–eight, Brooks had been my world.
He was woven into every memory–every precious moment of my life.
To let go of him now?
It felt like tearing my own flesh from my bones.
Painful.
Unbearable.
By my third day here, insomnia returned.
I lay awake until dawn, staring at the ceiling, two days left until the wedding.
Outside, Lily’s voice echoed through the courtyard.
“I want a flower arch here–with red roses!”
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“How long does the red carpet need to be?”
“And what size should the backdrop be?”
“Liam, if we don’t have a photo wall with our pictures, you’re dead!”
Her laughter. Her excitement. Her wedding.
I shoved my head beneath the pillow, but nothing could drown out the sound.
I had a wedding, too.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories poured in like a flood.
White jasmine lined the aisle–the same flowers he had used when he proposed.
The bouquet–he had made it himself.
Orange freesia. Sweet. Subtle.
The guest seats are tied with orange ribbons.
The menu, finalized after four revisions.
The wedding candies–chosen together, with our cartoon figures printed on the boxes.
I remembered walking down that long flower path during the rehearsal, his hand gripping
mine.
He had been nervous. His fingers had trembled. It had all been perfect.
But that night…He never got to put the ring on my finger.
He never saw me in my wedding dress, the one with his name embroidered inside.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I swear, just one week. Give me one week, and I’ll be back to
marry you.”
I had waited. And waited. For five years.
Until one day, I received an invitation–his wedding, to someone else.
The morning light seeped through my curtains.
I forced myself out of bed, got dressed, and stepped outside.
The wedding preparations were already in full swing.
Workers bustled about, setting up the venue.
And then-
“Ava!”
I turned just in time to see Lily running toward me.
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She grinned, sticking out her tongue like a playful child.
“I need a favor.”
A favor? From me?
And I never could have imagined what it would be.
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