#6. Town
845 Words
Betty packed her luggage quietly, moving around her small apartment with a heaviness she couldn’t shake. Every item she placed in the trunk of her car felt like a piece of her life she was forcing herself to let go of. Today would be a long drive, hours on the road, and she needed to leave early if she wanted to reach her destination before nightfall.
But no matter how much she tried to focus on the task, yesterday’s phone call with Anna echoed sharply in her mind.
“I’m calling because I want you to please forgive me, Betty… but I won’t leave Francis for you. He loved me. He always has,” Anna had said, her voice soft but unapologetic.
Betty had stood frozen, stunned, unable to even respond before Veronica, always quick to step in, snatched the phone from her hand.
“You’re nothing but a wh0re,” Veronica had snapped into the phone. “You can’t find your own man so you take your friend’s fiancé? You’re insane, Anna.”
Anna had hung up in fury, but her words had already struck the deepest part of Betty. The betrayal wasn’t new, but hearing it again, spoken so plainly, reopened every wound she thought she had numbed.
This was why she needed to leave.
This was why she needed distance.
This was why she had to protect her unborn child from being caught in this web of heartbreak and humiliation.
At least now she could start over, somewhere far away, somewhere quiet, somewhere people didn’t know her story.
She placed the final piece of luggage into the trunk and closed it gently. For a moment she rested her palms on the cold metal, letting herself breathe. Then she got into the driver’s seat, the air inside the car chilly and still. She took a long breath, turned the key, and the engine rumbled to life beneath her.
No distractions.
No looking back.
She had to stay focused, for herself, and for the small life growing inside her.
She pulled onto the road and began driving, the snowy landscape stretching endlessly before her.
—
Across the forest, Alpha Grayson brought his axe down in one clean, powerful strike. The log split neatly, pieces scattering across the snow.
“Are you sure you want to keep doing this, Alpha?” Jackson asked from a few steps away. “I can take over from here.”
“It’s fine,” Grayson replied, lifting the axe again. “Besides, I need this cabin done today. And where the hell are your boots anyway? Man, it’s freezing.”
“I’m using my wolf body temperature to warm myself up, I’ll survive without the boot for today.” Jackson said with a shrug.
“Just be careful,” Grayson muttered, bringing the axe down again. Wood cracked sharply under the strike.
Everything should have been straightforward, but his mind refused to stay in the present.
It kept circling back to her.
That woman.
The one who seems to run through his mind.
Jackson must have noticed his distraction because he spoke again. “You alright, Alpha?”
Grayson turned his eyes sharply toward him. “And quit calling me Alpha out here. Humans pass through sometimes. They’ll start wondering what kind of madness is happening in the woods.”
Jackson rolled his eyes lightly. “Old habits die hard. But fine, I’ll be more careful.”
“Good,” Grayson said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now pack those logs I’ve split and take them down to the woodpile. I need the first cabin finished today.” He paused, glancing around. “And where the hell is Michael?”
“He said he wanted to go buy gifts for his grandma. He’ll come later,” Jackson replied.
“Gift, huh.” Grayson let out a half scoff and tossed the axe to the ground. He grabbed his water bottle and gulped deeply, the cold liquid cutting through his focus for a moment.
But then she flashed in his mind again, the woman with dried tears on her face, the one stumbling into the room that wasn’t hers. The one who looked at him like he was the last place she ever meant to be… yet she had ended up right there.
Who the hell was she?
He wasn’t so sure anymore.
He replayed everything, the way she had crumpled on his bed. The way she had gasp in surprise when he held her. Her shaking hands.
Was that really what she was?
Grayson shook his head. Either way, what happened that night had happened. And it was done. There was no point in thinking about her again.
Yet he did.
Far too much.
“Be fast about it, Jackson,” Grayson said, pushing himself to his feet. He let out a long breath that fogged the air. “Damn, this snow keeps getting worse by the day.”
He reached for the axe again, gripping the handle tightly as he stepped back toward the next log.
- Writer
