The Space Between Us
1439 Words
The silence between us followed me long after dinner ended.
It clung to my skin as I walked the empty halls of the Alpha house, heavy and suffocating, like something alive.
I used to love these halls.
When I first arrived after the mating ceremony, I had spent weeks learning about every corner of this place—every carved pillar, every hidden balcony, every sunlit window overlooking the forest.
I had turned cold stone into a home.
Now it felt like I was wandering through someone else’s life.
My footsteps slowed as I reached the eastern corridor.
Kael’s office stood at the end of it, golden light spilling faintly beneath the dark wooden doors.
He was still awake.
Of course, he was.
Lately, he always seemed to have time for packing matters.
For Seraphine.
For everyone except me.
I should have kept walking.
Gone to our room. Pretended none of it mattered.
Pretended I hadn’t spent the entire dinner fighting the humiliating ache in my chest.
Pretended I hadn’t noticed the way he looked at her with more attention than he’d given me in months.
But something inside me—something bruised and desperate—needed answers.
Or maybe I just needed proof that I wasn’t imagining all of this.
That I wasn’t losing my mind along with my place in his life.
Before I could stop myself, I lifted my hand and knocked.
A low voice answered immediately.
“Come in.”
I pushed open the doors slowly.
Kael stood near the large desk at the center of the room, sleeves rolled to his forearms, dark hair slightly disheveled like he’d been running his hands through it.
The sight of him still did something dangerous to me.
Even now.
Even after tonight.
His eyes lifted briefly from the papers in his hand.
“You’re awake.”
Not Elara.
Are you alright?
Just observation.
“I could say the same to you.”
He hummed faintly, setting the papers down.
“Pack issues.”
Always pack issues.
I stepped further into the room, closing the door quietly behind me.
The click echoed louder than it should have.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The distance between us felt strange suddenly.
Too formal.
Too careful.
Like we were strangers trying not to cross invisible lines.
Kael leaned back slightly against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Was there something you needed?”
The words were polite.
That hurt more somehow.
I stared at him.
At the man who used to know what I was feeling before I even spoke.
The man who used to pull me into his arms before I had the chance to ask.
Now I apparently needed a reason just to stand in the same room as him.
“I wanted to talk.”
A flicker of exhaustion crossed his face.
Not anger.
Not concern.
Exhaustion.
As if this conversation was already a burden.
“What about?”
I almost laughed at that.
Almost.
Instead, I wrapped my arms around myself tightly.
“Do you really not see it?”
His jaw tightened faintly.
“Elara—”
“No.” My voice cracked softly before I steadied it. “No, Kael. I need you to answer me honestly.”
For the first time that night, his full attention settled on me.
It should have comforted me.
It didn’t.
“You moved her into our home,” I said quietly. “You spend every day with her. Every meal beside her. Every decision includes her.”
His expression hardened slightly.
“She’s grieving.”
“And what am I doing?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Kael exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“This again?”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Like my pain had become repetitive.
Inconvenient.
“Yes,” I whispered. “This again.”
Because it never stopped hurting.
Because every day felt a little worse than the one before it.
Because I didn’t know how to make him understand that I was disappearing right in front of him.
“She lost her mate, Elara.”
“And I’m losing mine.”
The room was still.
Kael’s eyes snapped to mine.
For one brief second, something flickered across his face.
Shock.
Then frustration.
“You’re being unfair.”
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
“Unfair?”
“You know exactly why she’s here.”
“I know why she came,” I said quietly. “I just don’t know why I stopped mattered after she did.”
His expression darkened.
“That’s not true.”
“Then why does it feel true?”
My voice broke at the edges now, emotion slipping through despite my efforts to contain it.
“I sit across from you every day, and it feels like you’re somewhere else.”
Kael pushed away from the desk suddenly.
The movement made me flinch instinctively.
His eyes narrowed immediately.
That flinch hadn’t escaped him.
Something tense passed between us.
Not fear.
Never fear.
But unfamiliarity.
And somehow… that felt worse.
“I have responsibilities,” he said tightly. “The pack is unstable after my brother’s death. Seraphine and the child are vulnerable.”
“And what about me?”
The question came out softer this time.
Smaller.
More dangerous.
Because I wasn’t angry anymore.
I was hurt.
And Kael had always struggled more with my pain than my anger.
He looked away at first.
That hurt too.
“You’re strong,” he said finally.
The words landed like a punishment.
Strong.
As if strength meant I needed less.
Less love.
Less attention.
Less him.
My throat tightened painfully.
“So that’s it?” I asked quietly. “You think, because I can survive this… I should have to?”
Kael’s jaw flexed.
“You’re twisting my words.”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m trying to understand them.”
Silence stretched between us again.
Cold and endless.
I remembered a time when silence with Kael had been easy.
Comfortable.
Intimate.
Now it felt like standing on opposite sides of a canyon.
“You didn’t even notice tonight,” I said softly.
His brows furrowed slightly.
“Notice what?”
The fact that he had to ask nearly shattered me.
“My seat.”
Realization flickered across his face at last.
Brief.
Gone almost instantly.
“It wasn’t intentional.”
But it had happened anyway.
That was the problem.
“You told me to sit further down at the table.”
“It was just seating, Elara.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “It wasn’t.”
Because it had never been about the chair.
It was about what it represented.
What I represented.
Or used to.
Kael’s patience finally cracked.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
The sharpness in his voice sliced through the room.
I froze.
Not because he yelled.
Because he sounded genuinely frustrated that I was hurting at all.
My chest tightened painfully.
“I want my mate back.”
The words came out barely beyond a whisper.
Raw.
Honest.
Humiliating.
Something flickered in Kael’s eyes then.
Guilt.
Real guilt.
For one terrible moment, hope rose inside me.
Then he said quietly:
“You’re overthinking this.”
The hope died instantly.
I stared at him.
Really stared.
And suddenly I realized something horrifying.
He truly didn’t understand what he was doing to me.
Which meant he would keep doing it.
Again.
And again.
Until there was nothing left of us to save.
A hollow ache spread through my chest.
Slow.
Numbing.
“I see,” I whispered.
Kael frowned slightly, his voice lowering.
“Elara—”
“No.” I stepped back toward the door. “It’s late. I shouldn’t have interrupted you.”
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Maybe regret.
Maybe irritation.
I couldn’t tell anymore.
I reached for the door handle.
Then paused.
Because there was one question still clawing at me.
Once, I was suddenly terrified of hearing the answer.
Without turning around, I asked softly:
“If she asked you to choose… would you?”
Silence.
Long enough to destroy me.
I closed my eyes.
That hesitation told me everything.
When Kael finally spoke, his voice was low and strained.
“You know I have obligations.”
Not no.
Never no.
Something inside me cracked wider.
Quieter.
More permanent.
I opened the door slowly.
And this time, when I walked away from him—
He didn’t stop me.
- Writer
