Page 15 of Lonely Alpha
“Thanks.” I let Franklin set the plate in front of me and reached for the butter. “I hope everyone slept well. I can’t remember the last time I slept so late.”
“Oh, I did.” Franklin pushed a jug of real maple syrup toward me. “That’s one thing; I don’t have trouble sleeping.”
“Lars?” I wanted to include him, for courtesy’s sake. We were going to be parting soon, but there was no need to be rude. “Have a good night?”
He fixed his gaze on his plate and nodded. “It was all right.” Even at that angle, I could see the shadows under his eyes. He couldn’t lie to me. He’d been awake a good part of the night. My heart squeezed. If he didn’t care about me at all, would he have had insomnia? It couldn’t be that he was just disappointed someone else hadn’t been waiting here to be a new mate for him, could it?
I didn’t know what to do now. Leaving would be the smart thing, but my wolf insisted we stay here and be with our mate. He was so excited and didn’t seem to have any qualms about the past. I’d noticed that about him. The beast lived in the present. Whatever had happened with our mate in the weeks and months and years leading up to now mattered not at all. We were sitting at a table with our mate, and he wanted to just pick up as if there had been no time in between. Problem was, I was inclined to agree. And that made it even more imperative that I leave right after breakfast.
We ate quietly, more pancakes and bacon and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, and I lingered over a second cup of dark-roast coffee, needing to leave but reluctant. We had no future, but once I walked out of here, I wouldn’t see him again.
That shouldn’t hurt so much after all this time.
“Now, I’m not sure what you both have planned for the day, but I thought you might like to take it easy today and then you have dinner reservations tonight at one of my favorite restaurants. It’s nearly noon now, so you can chill in the gardens if you like? Or go into town and walk around?”
Before I knew it, I was agreeing that dinner sounded great and an afternoon of enjoying Franklin’s beautiful property would be refreshing. Lars was staring at me as if he wasn’t sure what I was up to, but that was okay. He could come out with me and enjoy the flowers or not, as it suited him.
Suddenly, I recognized that having a mate was important, but I’d wasted a lot of experience time by focusing on him to my complete detriment. While he apparently was having a great time doing whatever he wanted the whole time I was overseas and missing him.
So, I was going to go out in the garden and admire the flowers, maybe take a short walk or a rest. And then I would be going to dinner, with or without Lars. Doing what I chose without worrying about what my alpha—not mine, the alpha—was up to.
It was an amazingly freeing feeling.
Franklin did allow us to help him carry the dishes to the kitchen, and then I marched outside and took a seat on one of the loungers. It was beautiful, and I loved it, but when Lars arrived and sat in the chair next to mine, I couldn’t deny that I was glad.
We talked very little that afternoon, sipping lemonade from the refrigerator and generally drowsing like the flowers in the dappled light. By the time we went inside to dress, we hadn’t even attempted to resolve anything, but somehow just being together that way took the edge off and made me feel good. We’d probably never see one another again, but if we could talk through things at dinner, maybe we could reach closure.
Which was why, when we sat in the back seat of the car Franklin arranged to take us to the restaurant, I didn’t mean to blurt out, “How could you forget about me? I was your mate. I loved you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lars
“Forgot about you?” How strange that he said the same thing I had the night before. “How could I ever forget about you, William? You were my world.”
“But I went overseas, and I never received a package or a letter. Nothing.”
I almost scoffed, but this conversation needed to be had for the both of us. In order for that to happen, I checked my ego at the door. “William, I wrote you letters and even sent you themed care packages. Big ones.”
“Why didn’t I ever receive them?”
“I don’t know. They were all tracked as delivered, but I didn’t get a response to any of it. You didn’t call or FaceTime me. I searched online.”
“Lars.” He put his hand on mine, and every blip of pain was instantly soothed. “A lot of the places I was, there were no satellite calls or internet available. I was in the middle of the desert. We didn’t see the base for weeks at a time.”
“But about the packages?” I asked as my walls crumbled.
“I never received one.”
“Here.” Desperately, I wanted to prove that I hadn’t for one second, forgotten about him. I pulled up my emails on my phone. There was still no service, but I had them screenshotted. Never had deleted them. It was like I knew this moment might come, and I would need proof. “See? These are all the deliveries.”
He took the phone from me and I let him. As he flicked through the pictures, his shoulders relaxed and tears welled in his eyes. “You tried to reach me.”
“I did. Of course I did. Don’t you remember what we had?”
He nodded, and in the motion, the tears slid down his face. “I remember everything, Lars.”
“Could you not have written me a letter at least?” I asked, nudging him with my elbow.
