Page 50 of The Careless Alpha

"I know," Marshall whispered, his voice so broken I could barely hear it. "I know, and I'm sorry—"

"Sorry doesn't fix it," I said, my voice hard as granite. "Sorry doesn't give me back the months I spent believing I was worthless. Sorry doesn't erase the memory of you rejecting our bond, of you threatening to set warriors on me if I didn't disappear fast enough."

"I was wrong about everything," Marshall said, his voice breaking completely. "I was wrong about you, about the baby, about what I felt. I was a coward and a fool, and I destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Yes," I said simply, the word falling between us like a stone. "You did."

We stood there in silence, the weight of everything we'd lost hanging between us like a living thing. The sun was lower now, casting everything in golden light that should have been beautiful but just felt harsh and unforgiving. I could hear the distant sound of waves against the harbor wall, the cry of seagulls, the normal sounds of a town that had become my sanctuary.

"I love you," Marshall said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've loved you since you were thirteen and looked at me like I hung the moon. I was too scared and too stupid to admit it, but I loved you then and I love you now."

The words I'd dreamed of hearing for five years now felt like poison in my veins. I could feel my heart breaking all over again, could feel the last fragile pieces of hope I'd been carrying finally crumble to dust.

"Love," I repeated, tasting the word like it was bitter on my tongue. "You think what you felt was love?"

"I know it is—"

"Love doesn't abandon," I said, my voice cutting through his protests like a knife. "Love doesn't ignore. Love doesn't forget the most important moments and pretend they never happened. Love doesn't call the person they claim to care about a whore."

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said desperately, and I could see him fighting not to reach for me. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. But I'm begging you—"

"No," I said firmly, my voice ringing with a finality that surprised even me. "You don't get to beg. You don't get to show up here and expect me to fall back into your arms because you've finally figured out what you threw away."

The baby kicked again, and I pressed my hand to the spot, feeling his strong movements. My son. My future. Everything that mattered now.

"Our son deserves to know his father," Marshall said, his voice taking on that familiar note of command that had once made me melt. Now it was making me angry.

"Our son deserves better than a father who would reject him before he was even born," I shot back, my voice rising. "He deserves better than a father who called his mother a whore in front of an entire pack."

"I'll spend the rest of my life making up for that," Marshall said urgently, taking another step forward. "I'll spend every day proving that I've changed, that I'm worthy of you both."

"You don't get to decide that," I said, my voice deadly calm. I could feel my strength returning, could feel the steel in my spine that I'd built over these months of learning to stand on my own. "You don't get to decide anything anymore. You gave up that right when you threw us away."

"Then what do you want from me?" he asked, and I could hear the desperation bleeding through his careful control, could see the way his hands were shaking.

"I want you to understand," I said, my voice growing stronger with each word. "I want you to understand that I'm not the same broken girl you banished. I'm not the same person who would have forgiven you anything just to keep you."

"I can see that," he said quietly, his eyes taking in my straight spine, my lifted chin, the protective way I held myself. "You're stronger. More confident. You've built something here."

"I've builteverythinghere," I corrected, gesturing toward the diner where faces were pressed against the windows, watching to make sure I was safe, while Jimmy stood back by the door, watching just in case. "I've built a life, a family, a future. I've learned what it means to be valued instead of tolerated. I've learned what it feels like to be wanted instead of endured."

"I never endured you—I was trying to do what was best for both of us. I was nineteen when I found you, already sexuallyactive, and suddenly I had to wait five years for my mate to be ready. I thought I was being responsible by managing my needs elsewhere while keeping you safe and innocent. I thought I was protecting you—"

"Yes, you did," I said firmly, and I could see the truth of it hit him like a physical blow. "For four years, you endured me. You endured my presence, my feelings, my love. You treated me like an obligation you'd have to deal with eventually, not like a person you cared about."

Marshall opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a raised hand.

"Do you know what these people did for me?" I asked, my voice growing warm as I thought of my chosen family. "They saw a scared, pregnant girl, and they welcomed me. They gave me work, a home, a family. They celebrated my birthday when I had no one else. They've never asked for anything in return except that I be happy."

"I want you to be happy," Marshall said desperately.

"No, you want me to be yours," I corrected, and I could see the truth of it in his eyes. "You want me to come back and be your Luna and pretend that none of this happened. You want me to make you feel better about what you did."

"I want to make this right," he said, his voice cracking like a broken thing.

"There is no making this right," I said, the words falling between us like a death sentence. "There's no going back. There's no pretending that what you did doesn't matter. You destroyed us, Marshall. You destroyed any chance we had at happiness."

"Don't say that," he pleaded, and I could see him fighting back sobs. "Please don't say that."