Chapter 17
281words
For those few days, we were like any ordinary expecting parents.
Days so blissfully normal I almost believed it could last.
One evening Alaric found some prenatal education videos. I watched until I dozed off.
He continued watching with intense focus.
It was strange seeing the now-formidable Thornfield Alpha heir watching cartoon babies with such concentration.
I turned away.
He would have been a good father, I thought.
Our first checkup came two weeks later.
We had just finished the exam when Alaric's phone rang—his father.
He stepped into the hallway.
I heard the distinctive click of his lighter.
In that moment, I knew what was coming.
Sure enough, when Alaric finally returned, his face told the story.
He knelt before me, taking my hands in his.
"Aria."
His voice was hoarse from smoking.
"I'm so sorry."
Alaric pressed his face into my palm.
I looked past him toward the window.
The sunlight seemed unusually bright today.
"We can't keep this baby, can we?"
His silence was answer enough.
I couldn't really blame Alaric.
He'd tried his best, especially after learning he'd mistaken me for someone else all those years ago.
I couldn't ask him to run away again, back to that leaking flat, the three of us—two werewolves and one human—surviving on discounted bread.
I felt something wet drop onto my palm.
I suddenly wanted to ask all those clichéd questions.
Whether he regretted any of it. Whether he had ever truly loved me.
But watching the last autumn leaf drift past the window, I knew—what was the point?
The die was cast.
