Page 59 of Stalked By the Alphas

58

NOAH

The pressure is on.

Carter didn’t say much when he returned yesterday, but I could tell in his stance as he passed us by without a word. He is more confident than he has been in the last couple of days, so I have to assume that things went… okay. I can’t hope to believe that they went well. But she didn’t kick him out and tell him to fuck off. So that leaves me. I pace nervously in my hotel room, running through what I want to say to Hazel later.

I’ve always prided myself on my ability to remain calm and composed in any situation. As a psychologist, it’s a job requirement. But when it comes to Hazel, all my training seems to fly out the window. She has always had that effect on me from the moment we met as children.

Sighing, I sit down on the edge of the bed and pick up the gift I’ve prepared for her. A leather-bound journal with her name embossed on the cover. Inside, I’ve written a letter on the first page, pouring out my feelings and regrets. I hope it will show her how much she means to me and how sorry I am for everything we’ve put her through.

But a journal and a letter aren’t enough. I know that. We’ve violated her trust in the worst way possible. Words alone can’t fix that. She needs action. She needs to see that we are doing everything we can to be better for her and for ourselves.

I think back to the moment we found her in that cellar, naked, bound and terrified. The rage I felt seeing her like that, knowing what those men had done to her, was overwhelming. In that moment, I understood the true depth of my feelings for her. It wasn’t just love or desire. It was a bone-deep need to protect her, to shield her from any harm. I had failed her then and was determined never to fail her again.

I run my fingers over the smooth leather of the journal, remembering the countless therapy sessions I’ve conducted, the numerous patients I’ve helped. But Hazel isn’t just another patient. She’s so much more, and that complicates everything.

Tomorrow, I need to be completely honest with Hazel. No more half-truths or omissions. She deserves the whole truth, no matter how uncomfortable or painful it might be for me to admit, this isn’t about me.

As I rehearse what I want to say, my mind drifts to Carter and Zach. We’ve always been competitive, each vying for Hazel’s attention in our own ways. But now, we need to present a united front. We need to show her that we can work together and that we’re all committed to her happiness and well-being.

A soft knock at my door startles me from my thoughts. I open it to find Zach standing there, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod and step aside to let him in. As he enters, I can smell the faint scent of whiskey on him. Not enough to be drunk, but enough to loosen his tongue.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask, though I have a pretty good idea.

Zach runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. “I’m worried about later,” he admits. “What if... what if we can’t fix this? What if Hazel decides she’s better off without us?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” I joke lightly.

He smiles and shakes his head, taking it on the chin and not in the heart, which shows me he is confident that his own time with Hazel was more than he is letting on. “You’ve got this?”

“Trust me,” I say, although I’m nowhere near as confident as I sound. But I can’t let him see that. Half of me wishes I’d gone yesterday so this immense pressure fell on Carter, but maybe Carter’s time with her will pave the way for me. It’s hard to say without him spilling all, and he won’t. He won’t answer his door, and his phone is switched off. I get it. He doesn’t want me to think this is all in the bag and not make an effort .

I find it a little bit insulting that he would think I’d fall back on their laurels, but I also know how much is riding on this. I definitely know this is a one-shot deal, and it’s all or nothing. If I fail now, she won’t have any of us.

Okay, maybe Zach. He probably has this in the bag regardless. Me and Carter, not so much.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the short journey to the village. “I’ll do my best, Zach. That’s all any of us can do at this point.”

Zach nods, his eyes serious. “Just don’t psychoanalyse her, okay? She needs you to be Noah, not Dr Forshaw.”

His words sting, but I know he’s right. It’s a habit I’ve fallen into too often with Hazel, trying to understand her through the lens of my profession rather than simply being there for her as a friend, as a potential partner.

“I won’t,” I promise. “I’m going in there as just Noah. No more hiding behind my job or my education.”

Zach seems satisfied with this. He claps me on the shoulder, a gesture of solidarity that means more than I’d like to admit. “Good luck, mate. We’re all counting on you.”

As he leaves, I turn back to the journal on the bed. I pick it up, running my thumb over Hazel’s name. I’ll give her this piece of myself, along with all the truths I’ve been holding back. It’s terrifying, but it’s also liberating. For the first time in years, I feel like I’m on the verge of being truly honest - with Hazel, and with myself.

Picking up my phone and keys, I head out to my car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I start up and set off towards Hazel’s, knowing I’m early, but I want to be waiting for her, to let her know that I’ll show up and be there for her and that she doesn’t have to wait for me.

The drive to Hazel’s cottage feels both interminable and far too short. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension. As I pull up outside her quaint little home, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my raging nerves.

Hazel should be closing up the bookshop right about now and will start her walk home. I’m here. Waiting.

I sit in my car, watching the road that leads from the village to Hazel’s cottage. My heart pounds as I wait, palms sweating against the steering wheel. After what feels like an eternity, I spot her familiar figure in the distance.

As she gets closer, she finally looks up and notices my car. She falters for a moment, then squares her shoulders and continues forward.

I step out of the car, clutching the journal in my hands. “Hazel,” I say softly as she approaches.

She stops a few feet away, eyeing me warily. “Noah.”

“I wanted to be here when you got home,” I explain. “To show you that I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need me. ”

A flicker of amusement crosses over her face. “Okay.”

I curse in my mind. She’s going to think I’m a lunatic.

“Would you like to come inside?” she asks after a moment.

I nod, following her to the cottage door. As she unlocks it, I notice her hands trembling slightly. She is nervous, which spikes her scent. It hits my nose, and I stifle my groan, desperately clutching the journal so I don’t reach out and touch her.

Once we are inside, she takes me into the living room. She sits, perched on the edge of the sofa and stares at me.

I take a deep breath. This is it. My chance to make things right.

“Hazel. I want to start by saying how deeply sorry I am. For everything. For betraying your trust, for not being there when you needed me most, for trying to analyse you instead of just being there for you.”

She nods slightly, her expression guarded. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she’s bracing herself for whatever I might say next.

“I brought you something,” I say, holding out the journal. “It’s not much, but I wanted you to have a place to write down your thoughts, your feelings. I’ve written a letter to you on the first page. Everything I feel, everything I regret, it’s all there.”

Hazel takes the journal, her fingers brushing against mine. The brief contact sends a jolt through me, and I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms.

She opens the journal, her eyes scanning the words I’ve poured onto the page. I wait, hardly daring to breathe, as she reads.

“Noah,” she says finally, looking up at me. Her green eyes are shimmering with unshed tears. “This is beautiful. But words aren’t enough. You know that, right?”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I do. I know we have a long way to go to earn back your trust. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I know I’ve hurt you, Hazel. I know I’ve failed you in so many ways. But I want to be better. For you, for us.”

Hazel’s fingers trace over the embossed letters of her name on the journal cover. Her expression is thoughtful, wary and something softer that I can’t quite place.

“Who are you, Noah?”

I frown deeply and instantly analyse that question but then I sigh and shake my head. “I’m just an alpha who’s hopelessly in love with you,” I confess. “A man who’s scared of losing you, of not being good enough for you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Hazel’s eyes widen slightly at my admission. She sets the journal aside and leans forward, her gaze intense. “And what do you want?”

I take a shaky breath, and take a risk, sitting down next to her on the sofa. She pulls away slightly, and I know she needs more. I drop to my knees and take her hands lightly in case she wants to pull away again. She doesn’t this time. “I want you, Hazel. All of you. I want to wake up next to you every morning, to hold you when you’re sad, to celebrate your joys. I want to be your partner, your lover, your friend. But more than that, I want you to be happy, even if that means letting you go.”

“Why did you do it, Noah? Why did you betray me like that?”

I close my eyes briefly, shame washing over me. “Because I was scared. Scared of how much I loved you, scared of losing you. I thought if I could control certain aspects of your life, I could protect myself. But all I did was hurt you, and that’s unforgivable.”

Hazel is quiet for a long moment. Finally, she says, “I’m scared too, Noah. Terrified of the things you’ve done to keep me. I’m terrified of being hurt again. Of trusting you all only to have my heart shattered into a million pieces.”

I squeeze her hands gently, my heart aching at the pain in her voice. “I understand, Hazel. You have every right to be scared. We’ve given you so many reasons not to trust us.”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. I resist the urge to wipe it away, knowing she needs this moment.

“But I’m tired of being alone,” she whispers. “I’m tired of being tired and I’m afraid.”

“What do you need from me, Hazel?” I ask softly. “What can I do to help you feel safe?”

She looks at me, her green eyes searching mine. “I need time, Noah. I need to know that you’re not just saying these things because you think it’s what I want to hear. I need to see real change.”

I nod, understanding completely. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’ll show you every day that I mean every word. No more manipulations, no more half-truths. Just me, trying my best to be worthy of you.”

Hazel’s eyes search mine, as if trying to gauge the sincerity of my words. I hold her gaze, willing her to see the truth in my eyes, the depth of my feelings for her.

She nods slowly, but she doesn’t smile. “I need to think about what you’ve all said and done. Just give me a couple of days, okay?”

“Take all the time you need. We aren’t going anywhere.”

“Okay, thank you.”

I let her go, and I stand up to leave. There is nothing left to say, except, “I love you, Hazel. Please forgive us.”

She smiles then, and it lifts my spirits. Maybe not all is lost.

I leave her home, closing the door quietly behind me and I drive to the house that Carter rented, assuming I’ll find him there.

I’m not wrong.

I pull up on the driveway next to a medium-sized skip and Carter flinging that gross, damp mattress into it.

“Well?” he says as Zach comes outside with that creepy headless mannequin, which he chucks into the skip with a look of distaste.

“She said to give her a couple of days. ”

“Her birthday,” Zach says instantly.

“Yeah. I guess the pact will come to pass, or she tells us to fuck off back to Cornwall.” I give Carter a resigned stare, which he returns.

It’s going to be the longest forty-eight hours of our lives.