I know I asked him for a little space, but now that I have it, I just feel so alone. I sigh deeply. I don’t even know where to begin with my thoughts, so I ignore them and begin with my muffins.
They’re my dad’s favorites, and one of the first things I learned to make by myself. I begin to measure out the wheat flour and oats along with the other dry ingredients.
Why does it bother me so much? It’s something that seems like it would be simple to answer, but it’s not. I knew about his choices before, and I was OK with it. Well, not OK, but I was able to forgive it. I didn’t have a wolf, so I can understand his hesitation with me. He didn’t think I would make a good queen without a wolf. Now I have a wolf and I’m the one that thinks I won’t be a good queen.
I peel and smash a
