Page 143 of Puck My Life

I look at the bills. All paid, my savings are small, but they're growing. I’ve cleaned the house, the kitchen is spotless, meals prepared for Mal and Deacon, and have figured out what Raynor and I are going to eat. I don’t have anything to do, and tonight, I have the house to myself.

I turn on the music so it doesn’t feel so empty and pull out the ingredients to start baking.

Three hours later, it’s iced and beautiful. I set it aside for tomorrow.

When I get up in the morning, the cake is gone.

I storm to Deacon’s door and kick it open. To my surprise, it’s just Indy, Deacon, and Mal. Raynor is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s my cake?”

Indy sits up in a pile of my alphas and glares.

“Where’s my cake!” I scream.

“Jeez, Vae, take a chill,” Deacon hisses, grabbing his head.

I see half the cake and realise what they’ve done.

“You defaced my cake?”

“What’s the problem?”

“It was for the kids.”

“So, buy another one.” Mal yawns and snuggles back into the pile.

I glare, but none of them are getting up or seem to care.

I pack an overnight bag and storm out of the house, booking myself into a hotel for the night.

When I get home two days later, the house is trashed, but they didn’t even notice I was gone.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

PRESENT

Jansen walks beside me and stops at the gate. I glare at him.

“You’re a traitor.”

“Yeah, but I’m a sucker for puppy dog eyes, and your three boys have the biggest, most cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, not to mention their butts.”

I sigh. “Sold me out for a perv?”

“Hey, I’m in desperate need here. It’s been a while, and I keep having to go to hockey games and stare at all the hot guys spinning around on the ice and making my blood pressure skyrocket. Oh, we could have been a thing.”

“No, we couldn’t.”

We both laugh, but the time for stalling is done. I need to go and confront my past so that I can find my future. One last time.

Jansen leans over and kisses my cheek. “Enjoy.”

“Enjoy what?” I snap, but he walks off without a backward glance.

I look back, but now that he’s not standing beside me distracting me, I can see the differences. The grass is mowed; the garden’s weeded. Wait, has the porch been painted, and the porch swing looks like someone has repaired it.

I push open the gate, and it doesn’t squeak.