He Rejected The Wrong Wolf

Chapter 25

Brielle’s POV

The conversation somehow survived after that.

Barely.

Mostly because Grandma immediately forced everyone to keep eating before Wren could start narrating the emotional collapse happening at the table in real time.

“Some of us are trying to enjoy dinner,” Grandma informed her firmly.

“I am enjoying dinner,” Wren argued. “This is the best meal I’ve had all year.”

“You are not helping.”

Grandpa muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like:

“God help us.”

Brielle stared down at her plate, trying very hard to gather her thoughts back into something manageable.

Which was impossible.

Because Thaddeus had just admitted he regretted rejecting her.

Casually.

In front of her entire family.

And somehow the worst part was that he didn’t look embarrassed about it anymore.

Tense, yes.

But not uncertain.

That realization unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

“You’re quiet,” Grandma observed gently.

Wren immediately pointed across the table. “Because her brain short-circuited.”

“Wren.”

“What? It did.”

Brielle grabbed her water glass mostly to avoid answering.

Beside her, Thaddeus stayed quiet too, though she could feel the tension sitting between them now like something alive. Every accidental brush of their arms against the table felt suddenly too noticeable.

Too warm.

Dangerously easy to pay attention to.

Which was deeply unfair.

Because this should still have been simple.

He rejected her.

That should have been the end of it.

Instead somehow everything between them had become more complicated the farther they got from the territory.

“Alright,” Grandpa said finally, leaning back slightly in his chair. “I’m going to ask the important question now.”

Wren sat up immediately. “Oh, good.”

Grandma sighed. “Joseph.”

“No, I’m serious.” His attention shifted directly toward Thaddeus again. “If you were wrong, what exactly are you planning to do about it?”

Brielle nearly choked on air.

“Grandpa!”

“What?” he asked calmly. “I’d rather deal with the problem directly.”

“I don’t think I’m prepared for this conversation,” Wren whispered.

“No one is,” Brielle muttered.

Across the table, Thaddeus stayed still for a moment before answering carefully.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”

The honesty of it caught Brielle off guard again.

Because he could have lied.

Could have said something polished or reassuring just to smooth the conversation over.

Instead he looked directly at Grandpa and admitted the truth.

Grandpa studied him for another long second before nodding once.

“Hm.”

That was somehow worse than an actual response.

Wren narrowed her eyes at her grandfather. “You like him. I can tell.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Grandma smiled faintly into her wine glass while Grandpa looked personally offended by the accusation.

Brielle finally laughed despite herself, the tension easing just enough for her to breathe properly again.

And beside her, Thaddeus smiled too.

A real smile this time, unguarded enough that it caught Brielle off guard completely.

Unfortunately, Wren noticed.

Of course she did.

“Oh, this is bad,” she announced dramatically.

“What is now?” Brielle asked cautiously.

“You looked at him like you like him again.”

The table went silent instantly.

Brielle stared at her in horror. “I’m going to push you into traffic.”

“That sounds defensive.”

“Because you’re being insane.”

“Am I?” Wren asked smugly.

“Yes.”

“No,” Grandma said thoughtfully. “I don’t think she is.”

“Grandma!”

Grandpa looked exhausted again. “I miss when dinner was quiet.”

“No you don’t,” Wren replied immediately. “You love this.”

“I absolutely do not.”

At this point Brielle was genuinely considering fleeing the country.

Beside her, Thaddeus looked suspiciously entertained by her suffering now, which honestly felt like betrayal.

“You could at least pretend to help me,” she muttered under her breath toward him.

His gaze shifted toward her immediately, softer than before.

“I think you’re handling it pretty well.”

That absolutely did not help.

At all.

And somehow, judging by the look spreading slowly across Wren’s face—

Things were only going to get worse from here.