Loving Him With Pain

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Jerome had barely taken three steps away when Katie, without thinking, ran forward. Her heart pounded, her legs moving faster than her mind.

"It's not what you think, Jerome!" she blurted out, her voice sharper than she intended.

Jerome stopped mid-step but didn’t turn immediately. His hands were still in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, as if the whole situation barely affected him. When he finally turned, his face was unreadable—no amusement this time, no teasing smirk. Just blankness.

"Katie," he said flatly, "you’re explaining to me like I care."

Katie’s breath hitched slightly.

"We don’t have any special relationship," Jerome continued, his voice steady, calm, almost indifferent. "So why are you explaining anything to me?"

Katie froze.

For a second, she had nothing—no words, no comeback. Her mind scrambled to form some kind of response, but all that came out was, "Um… okay. I’m sorry for explaining."

Jerome gave her one last look, then turned around and kept walking, leaving her standing there, dumbfounded.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to turn around. Rowan was still there, watching the entire exchange unfold.

"Everything good?" he asked as she walked back toward him. His voice was gentle, careful, as if he already knew the answer.

Katie managed a weak smile. "Yeah, it’s fine."

She hesitated, then sighed. "I think I need a moment to myself."

Rowan nodded, not pressing further. "Alright. Take your time."

Without wasting any time she turned away again, walking back toward the pack house, her arms wrapping around herself as if that could keep her from unraveling.

When she stepped into her room, everything was dim, just as she had left it. She hadn’t drawn the curtains, hadn’t opened the windows. The air inside was heavy, stagnant, mirroring the weight in her chest.

She sank onto the hard bed, her hands gripping the sheets.

Breathe, Katie.

Her mind raced, looping back to the conversation with Jerome. The way he had looked at her—like she was nothing. Like she was just… there.

Why did it hurt so much?

She squeezed her eyes shut, her hands trembling slightly as she pressed them to her face.

She could still remember the soft flutter she had felt earlier, that almost-kiss with Rowan. But now, all she could feel was this—this ache that clawed at her from the inside out.

"Why do I feel this way?" she whispered to the empty room.

Does this mean she was actually in love with Jerome? Actually so much in love with him to care about his words.

Because if she wasn’t, why did his indifference sting so much?

Tears welled up in her eyes before she could stop them. She sucked in a shaky breath, gripping the edge of her dress as she fought to keep them at bay.

No.

She wouldn’t cry over this.

"You can do this, Katie," she told herself firmly. "This is not how it’s going to end."

But the words felt hollow.

And the tears came anyway.

She sat there, silent sobs shaking her shoulders, her face buried in her hands.

Minutes passed. Maybe more. She lost track of time, lost herself in the quiet, in the pain.

Then—

A knock.

She stiffened, quickly wiping her face with the back of her hands.

Another knock.

She took a deep breath, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Yes… come in."

The door creaked open, and in stepped Madam Ellene.

Katie quickly straightened, pulling herself together as best as she could.

"What are you doing here?" Madam Ellene’s voice was sharp, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room before landing on Katie. "You should be in the kitchen, helping the other women prepare lunch."

Katie scrambled to her feet, brushing down her dress. "Oh, um… yes, I—" She started toward the door, but before she could step past Madam Ellene, the older woman’s voice stopped her.

"Were you crying?"

Katie’s entire body went still.

Slowly, she turned her head, forcing a small, awkward laugh. "What? No, I—"

Madam Ellene’s gaze was piercing, unreadable. "Girl, you can’t lie to me."

Katie swallowed.

"I have far more experience in crying than you," Madam Ellene continued, crossing her arms. "I know when someone’s been crying, and when they haven’t."

Katie’s throat tightened and dhe looked away before replying "It’s nothing she said."

Madam Ellene sighed, rubbing her temples. "Look, I’m not the type to console anyone, but…" She hesitated, then, in a voice softer than before, she said, "Everything is going to be fine."

Katie’s lips parted slightly.

It wasn’t a grand speech. It wasn’t overly comforting. But coming from Madam Ellene, it carried more weight than Katie expected.

She felt the corners of her lips twitch upward, just slightly. "Thank you, Madam Ellene. Your words… bring much comfort."

Madam Ellene rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. "Now get to work, Katie."

Katie smiled faintly and nodded before stepping out of the room.

Once she was gone, Madam Ellene stood there for a long moment.

Then, without a word, she turned toward the bed.

With careful, deliberate movements, she reached into her cloak and pulled something out.

A small, wrapped bundle.

She knelt and slid it under the bed, her expression unreadable.

Madam Ellene stood still after placing the small, wrapped bundle under the bed. Her fingers lingered on the floorboards for a second longer than necessary before she slowly straightened.

Her sharp eyes swept the dimly lit room as if memorizing every corner, every shadow.

The heavy air clung to her skin. It smelled of unspoken grief, like a room left untouched for too long.

She exhaled softly and adjusted her cloak, pulling it over her shoulders as if shaking off something unseen.

Just as she smoothed out the fabric, the door creaked open again.

The sound was hesitant, almost careful.

Madam Ellene’s eyes flickered toward the doorway.

Katie stood there, slightly breathless, her fingers gripping the doorknob as though she had second thoughts about returning. Her gaze swept across the room before landing on the older woman.

“Um, sorry, I forgot to—” She stopped, brows knitting slightly. Something in Madam Ellene’s stance made her hesitate. “Is everything alright, Madam Ellene?”

For a fraction of a second, there was silence.

Then, Madam Ellene’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, but not entirely unreadable either.

“Oh, everything is perfectly fine,” she said, her voice smooth, unwavering. “I just noticed how stifling your room is.”

She turned on her heels before Katie could reply, walking toward the window with purpose.

Katie watched as the older woman reached for the thick curtains. With one sharp tug, she pulled them apart. Dust lifted into the air, swirling in the dim glow of the setting sun.

Madam Ellene didn’t stop there. With practiced efficiency, she unlatched the window and pushed it open. A rush of evening air swept in, cool and fresh, breathing life into the stale room.

Katie blinked, the sudden change almost startling.

She hesitated before murmuring, “Yeah… I actually forgot to open that.” She let out a small, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her hand against her cheek. “Thank you, Madam Ellene.”

The older woman only gave a curt nod, as if it was nothing.

Katie, suddenly aware of why she had come back, quickly glanced around.

She spotted her hair packer on the small wooden table. With hurried steps, she moved across the room, picking it up and gathering her loose strands of hair into a neater bun.

The room felt different now. Less suffocating. But the air still carried something unspoken.

By the time she finished, Madam Ellene was already waiting by the door.

The older woman didn’t rush her. She simply stood there, her hands resting at her sides, watching with that same unreadable gaze.

Katie swallowed, stealing one last glance at her bed

Then, shaking off the odd feeling creeping up her spine, she walked out.