He Drove Ten Hours for His Ex, So I Left

Vera's POV: Water dripped from the ends of my hair onto the screen, blotting out Dylan's profile picture. His showed a black wolf standing to the left of the moon. Delia's showed a white wolf standing to its right. Side by side, the two wolves lined up perfectly, their noses almost touching. I used to think it was only a coincidence. I'd even changed my own picture to a gray wolf gazing up at the moon, hoping Dylan's and mine would make a matching pair. Now, with all three images in front of me, mine was the only wolf standing alone, its head tilted toward the sky. I opened our chat. Clinging to one last, ridiculous shred of hope, I asked once more. Vera: Can you change your profile picture? This time, Dylan replied at once. Dylan: This again? Dylan: I transferred to the border to put your mind at ease. What more do you want from me? Even through the screen, I could picture the frown on his face. We had been together for four months before I learned that he and Delia had once dated. I had gripped my phone, not knowing how to ask her about it. Delia had been my best friend since childhood. "We broke up a long time ago. Don't overthink it." Delia linked her arm through mine and smiled as if there were nothing to hide. I studied her for a moment, then slowly unclenched my fist. But after that, Dylan always found some excuse to bring Delia along on our dates. "I accidentally booked an extra seat for the Full Moon Festival. We might as well invite Delia instead of letting it go to waste." "Don't all you girls like this stuff? I bought two moonstone necklaces. What's wrong with giving one to her?" "What's so interesting about the beach? Delia wants to go for a night run in the mountains. The three of us can go together." The last straw came when my parents drove over from Northmoor to visit me. I had booked the restaurant three weeks in advance, and Mom had even brought a jar of berry jam she had made herself. Just as we were about to leave, Dylan picked up his phone. "I'll invite Delia. She knows your parents. If they don't like me, she can vouch for me." He grabbed his car keys. "I'll pick her up. You go ahead with your parents." That night, we waited until the staff started stacking chairs around us. When Dylan finally answered his phone, he sounded rushed. "Delia twisted her ankle on the stairs. I'm at the hospital. You guys go ahead and eat." "Dylan, we should break up," I said the next time I saw him, trying not to cry. His face hardened. He slapped a transfer notice onto the table in front of me. "Happy now? Is this far enough away from her for you?" For the next five months, he refused to take my calls and rarely answered my messages. Then Delia coaxed him into coming back. Smiling, she pulled him over to me. "Okay, stop being mad at Vera. Sit down and eat." Only then did he agree to sit across from me. The rain was still tapping against the window, and the profile picture on my phone hadn't changed. I switched off the screen and went to the bathroom. After working a 14-hour night shift, I was too exhausted even to shift into my wolf form. Warm water poured over me, yet I still shivered with cold. At 3:30 a.m., my phone woke me. I picked up. "I've sent you so many messages. Why haven't you answered?" Irritation sharpened Dylan's voice. I opened our chat. More than 20 messages crowded the screen. Dylan: How do you make creamy baked eggs? Why isn't it in the cookbook? The last time I visited him at the border post, he had taken one bite before pushing away the plate. "Too rich." So I had never written down the recipe. Delia's muffled laughter came through the phone, and warmth bloomed in my chest through the Moon Vow. He was clearly enjoying himself. We hadn't exchanged mate marks yet. We were connected only by the Moon Vow, which let us feel each other's strongest emotions but not the reasons behind them. I used to treasure that connection. Even with several states between us, I could still tell whether he was having a good day. I gripped the edge of the blanket, my throat painfully dry. "Are those for Delia?" "How did you—" He stopped abruptly. A few seconds later, he sent a photo of a narrow loveseat. A blanket lay across it, and his coat rested beside one arm. "Don't let your imagination run wild. I'm sleeping here. Nothing happened between us." "You drove 10 hours to pick her up. You got out of bed in the middle of the night to cook for her. You'd rather curl up on a tiny couch than leave her alone." I watched the shadows of the trees sway against my window. "You take care of her as if she's your mate, yet because you didn't sleep together, you think you haven't done anything wrong?" "Vera, are you starting this again?" That phrase again. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt too raw. In the end, I managed only a quiet murmur. "I'll send you the recipe in a little while." The other end of the line fell silent. After a moment, Dylan said my name again, his voice gentler than before. "You're not angry?" "Dylan, we're done. From now on, what you do is none of my business." My chest tightened as his anger surged through the Moon Vow. I pressed a hand against it and waited for him to speak. "Since when do you get to decide we're breaking up? I never agreed to that." His voice rose sharply. I thought of how I had covered my coworkers' night shifts for three straight months, saving all my time off just so I could spend this year's Winter Moon Festival with him. All the hurt I had held back that night finally hardened into anger. "And when you decided to spend the night at another woman's place, did you ask if that was okay with me?"