321 At My Door

I clenched my jaw and stared at the wall, forcing my heartbeat to steady. I was a mess and didn’t want to face her now. But when she spoke again, something in her tone chipped at the wall I’d built.

“Lennox… please.” The sound of her voice slid under my skin like it belonged there, stirring things I wanted to bury.

I inhaled slowly and deeply but didn’t answer. Because if I answered, I might let her in, and if I let her in… she’d see the mess she’d made of me. The scent of her cooking reached me next. My favorite. Damn her. She remembered. Of course she remembered.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured against her hair, my voice rough. “I’m sorry… just stop crying, please.” My hands cupped the back of her head, keeping her pressed to me. “I hate seeing you like this.”

I remembered that silence. I’d locked myself away, too angry to trust what might come out of my mouth if I opened the door.

She still didn’t trust me. She still didn’t believe in my love for her. Because if she did, she would never have imagined I’d do something like that.

Still holding her hand, I guided her into my room, shutting the door behind us. I led her to the bed and made her sit. Then I sat beside her, close enough that our shoulders touched.

Her voice came again through the mind link, quieter this time and a bit shaky. “Do you remember… “ She began, hesitation brushing against my mind, “a week before my fourteenth birthday? When you wouldn’t speak to me or even look at me?”

“I sat outside your room for hours,” she said, her voice trembling now. “And somewhere in the middle of the night… I fell asleep there. The next thing I knew, I woke up on your bed.”

She gasped softly when my hands closed around her arms, pulling her up from the floor. The moment she was on her feet, I wrapped her against me, holding her tight like I could shield her from everything—especially from the hurt I’d caused.

Her body trembled against mine, her tears soaking into my shirt. I pulled back just enough to look at her face, brushing my thumbs over her damp cheeks. “No more crying, alright? I can’t take it."

Then I heard it—the sound of her sitting down on the other side of the door. “I’ll be here… When you’re ready to open the door… I’ll be here.”

That was when I felt her emotions crashing through the bond—the soft shuddering of her crying. It hit me square in the chest, cutting through my pride and anger like it was paper.

“Levi and Louis laughed it off,” she continued softly. “But you didn’t. You wouldn’t see me. Wouldn’t talk to me the entire day.”

She didn’t understand. It wasn’t just anger. It was the way her words earlier had hurt me. It was the image of her looking at me like I was the last person she wanted near her. I’d rather go hungry than pretend that didn’t matter.

I reached for the tray she’d left by the door, glancing down at the food she’d made. “I’m eating now,” I told her firmly, hoping she could hear the sincerity under my words. “So you can stop worrying.”

“I’m sorry, Lennox,” she whispered through the link. “I’m sorry for then… and I’m sorry for now.”

Lennox’s POV

“Stop being stubborn,” my wolf cautioned again, his voice low but edged with frustration.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the chair. I didn’t deserve her waiting for me. And yet… I sat there listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing through the barrier between us, every inhale and exhale finding its way into the cracks I swore I’d keep sealed.

She sniffled, nodding slightly, but I didn’t let go of her hand. I kept it in mine while I ate.

I was on my feet before I realized I’d moved, my chair scraping back hard against the floor. The distance to the door felt shorter now, my heartbeat loud in my ears. My hand hovered over the lock, my wolf urging me to just open it.

My jaw tightened, the memory hitting me like a punch to the chest. I could still see it—walking into that café, finding her sitting across from him, smiling faintly while he leaned in too close.

I took the first bite, letting her see it, chewing slowly before giving her a small, tired smile. “See? I’m eating. You can stop crying now.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to—because I already knew where she was going. “I lied to you,” she said, the words laced with shame. “I told you I was at Anita’s house… when really, I was having coffee with Silas.”

“You caught us,” she whispered. “I tried to explain, told you he’d been begging me to go with him, and I just… wanted to make him happy.”

The first knock came soft and hesitant, like she was afraid even to knock. I didn’t move. I’d heard her long before she reached my door. Her scent had found me first—that maddening, intoxicating scent that set every nerve in me on fire. Then came her voice, gentle and pleading, slipping through the mind link. “Lennox… please open up.”

I kept my eyes on the floor, but every word she sent through the link hit harder than I wanted it to. “You can remain angry at me if you want. You can ignore me forever. But you’re not going to starve because you’re too stubborn to see me.”

A muscle jumped in my jaw. That night I’d carried her in while she slept, tucking her under my blanket, and sat in the chair watching her breathe until the sun came up.

Without hesitation, I pulled the door open, and there she was—eyes red, lashes wet, cheeks streaked with tears. Something in my chest twisted painfully, and before I could stop myself, I reached for her.

My hands curled into fists. Even now, the thought of her doing anything to “make Silas happy” made something dark coil in my gut.

I swallowed hard, my gaze dragging to the door like it had a pull of its own. My chest tightened. I was still furious—furious that of all the damn things she could have assumed, she’d chosen the worst one. That she thought I was with another woman.