Chapter 2 - Leslie

Sitting in Gladys’s diner, I watch raindrops scatter across the glass and run down the window. It’s very late, and dark. The lights from the bright flashing sign out front make the little drops sparkle and glow.

The steady, patient drumming of the rain seems to be speaking to me. The howling of the wind following the storm offers its full agreement— go back to bed and hibernate .

Stay there forever.

“Leslie, dear, are you okay?”

I jump a little. Gladys is calling me from the counter. I push myself up from the table, grab my cleaning rag, and head over to her.

“Yes, sorry. I was just a bit lost in thought.”

“I can see that, honey. Don’t worry about the storm. We’ve weathered far worse than this.”

“I know,” I mutter, thinking about the savagery of the weather, and the chaotic conditions of my heart.

“Really, sweetheart, are you okay?” Gladys asks, fixing me with her bright, warm blue eyes.

I smile, touched by her genuine warmth. I’ve been working in the diner since high school, and she treats me like I’m one of her kids.

“Just tired,” I say. I think I’ve been giving that answer to anyone who asks that question for about twelve months.

“How about you head home?” she asks. “There’s only a couple of regulars left, and I can close the shop.”

“But I was supposed to close. I don’t want you staying too late.”

“Nonsense, dear. I’ve been running this place for longer than you’ve been alive. I can take care of it. Get yourself home and warmed up. You look like you’re coming down with something nasty.”

Yes, it’s called persistent melancholy. No flavor of ice cream can cure it.

“Thanks,” I answer, hurrying to get my coat. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll just take it easy for a few days.”

I bolt from the diner to my car, and it’s not even because of the rain. If I didn’t get out of there quick, I was going to start crying.

While I fumble for my keys, I feel the drops on my cheeks, and it’s not all from the storm.

“Fuck!” I scream, slamming the steering wheel with my hands.

I’m so sick of feeling like this. It’s been a fucking year!

Almost a year to the day since Kyle dumped me. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much today.

As if it didn’t hurt yesterday, and the day before that.

I wipe my cheeks, sniffling as I start the car. I felt like I had to get out of the diner because my sadness was creeping up on me, but now I feel like I’m driving towards a den of loneliness and pain.

It’s always worse at home.

Well, sometimes it’s worse at work. It’s really hard to tell.

I drive home carefully, pulling into the driveway and parking in the garage. I can feel the emptiness of the place echoing around me, spaces of silent darkness that somehow feel alive, as if they would taunt me if they could.

No one will ever want you, fatty.

“Ugh!” I can’t hold in a cry of frustration as I wrestle open the door. I flick on the light, revealing my very ordinary, sparsely furnished house. I don’t make a lot of money, and so long as I have what I need, I’ve never worried too much about having expensive items.

Kyle loved that about me.

When he first came into my house, I apologized for the scarcity. He laughed and told me he loved it. A couple of chairs and a table in the kitchen. A recliner and nice TV in the living room. A huge, soft bed.

“Looks like a palace compared to some of the places I’ve stayed, babe. You’ve got all you need here.”

Maybe that was a lie. Maybe everything he ever said was a lie.

I wrap myself up in a few thick blankets and settle into my recliner with some ice cream. Everyone on TV seems to be kissing happily or killing each other, neither of which I want to see. I finally find a documentary on mountain climbing and leave it on.

When Kyle first broke up with me, I spent days crying. I wanted to talk to him about it, but he completely ghosted me. When I finally got upset enough to go to Silver Meadows, I found out that he had left town.

He had dropped out of contact with everyone, even his best friends. I asked around a lot, not even caring if people suspected we had been together. He didn’t just ghost me—he completely vanished from the lives of everyone he knew.

I took another week off work to cry. This hurt soon turned into a fierce, burning anger. He broke my heart and crushed my soul, then he fucked off like an absolute coward, making sure I could never ask him anything about the breakup or get any closure.

As my misery mingled with rejection and rage, all of my own insecurities came trickling back. I’d been teased for my weight back in high school, and there was one boyfriend in particular who had humiliated me. I’d never really gotten over that, even after I moved past being self-conscious about my weight.

Even though I knew it was unlikely, I couldn’t help thinking maybe Kyle rejected me for someone prettier. As I was getting to know him, I thought he was a genuine guy who didn’t think that way. But after what he did to me, I had to accept maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.

When we were together, it seemed as if my body excited him. It made me confident and bold. Even though I’d gotten past my insecurities, being with Kyle took me even further—I felt strong, pretty, and even sexy.

Between my sadness and my fury, this cavern of uncertainty grew. I began to question everything about myself. As the days went by, a kind of numbness fell over me, like a defense mechanism. I could perform simple tasks without getting triggered or crying too much. It was an improvement.

When I finally went back to work, I couldn’t quite manage to be happy, but I did smile and talk with people. Gladys noticed the change in me but didn’t pry, except to regularly check in about my health. I didn’t have any other really close friends, so my misery went unnoticed.

I withdrew as much as I could from everyone and everything. Not only was I too sad to participate, I doubted that anyone enjoyed my company anymore.

With a sharp dig of the spoon, I scoop up the last of the double chocolate ripple, finishing the carton of ice cream. The guys on TV are still hanging off the edges of the mountains, going through the various life-threatening challenges they consider to be fun.

I live near some of the most impressive mountains in the country, and I’m sure as shit not tempted to climb any of them.

I wrap myself up in the blankets even more tightly, looking at the TV but not focusing on it. I listen to the howling of the wind outside, and the hammering of the rain that will soon turn to snow. I let the savage sounds lull me to sleep, drifting into dreams of cold, harsh places where there is no comfort.

When the sound of my phone breaks through the dream, I reach for it gratefully. Coming out of such a deep sleep makes me feel like I was drowning in a stormy sea, my hand desperately grasping for a life rope.

“Hello?” I mutter, pressing the phone to my face.

“Hello, Leslie, darling. How are you?”

I hold in a groan. I love Gladys, I really do. She’s like everyone’s grandmother, and a true leader in the pack. The thing is, I’m not used to having anyone take care of me. I’m starting to feel overwhelmed by it.

Even worse, if she keeps being so nice, I might spill the big secret.

“I’m okay,” I answer, trying to sit up. It isn’t the first time I’ve slept in my recliner. A lot of the time, I just can’t face the empty bed.

“You don’t sound so good,” Gladys says skeptically.

“Yeah, I just woke up. I’m feeling okay. Thanks for letting me out early.”

“No trouble at all, my dear. I wanted to check in on you, but I’ve also got some news to pass on. Pack business.”

“Oh?” I ask, my heart starting to pound. It’s really stupid, but I want to keep Kyle’s secret. He didn’t want anyone to know about us, so I don’t, either. Yes, there were moments of vengeance when I didn’t care if anyone found out, but those passed quickly.

What if I told, and no one believed me? What if they laughed at me?

“Yes, there was a recent meeting with all the elders from both packs. Because the alliance is going so well, we decided to put together another arranged marriage.”

“Oh?” This time, my voice is stronger.

Why is she telling me this?

“I was hoping you could come into the diner today. Not just for your shift but to talk with Decker and Belle. We pretty much decided on all the details, but obviously, we want your input.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Well… we chose you as the bride-to-be.”

“What…?” My voice comes out as a soft breath, barely even a word. Emotion slices through me, harsh enough to bring tears to my eyes. Thoughts are pounding against the inside of my skull with the savagery of last night’s rain.

Why would anyone want me?

“Leslie, are you still there?” Gladys asks.

“Yes, yes, I am,” I answer. “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand. Why would you choose me? I don’t have close family in the pack, I’m not related to the elders. I just…”

I’m ugly, and clearly my personality is chronically annoying. This is a great move if you want the other pack to hate us!

“Leslie, honey, listen to me.” Gladys’s usually soft voice takes on an edge I’ve only heard once or twice. She comes off sweet, but she’s also a tough old broad. “I know you’ve been going through something over the past year. A blind person could see it. I don’t know what it is, and God knows you don’t have to tell me. But I think something like this will be good for you. A new environment, a fresh start, people to meet. A change is just what you need.”

“I don’t know,” I answer softly. None of this sounds fun to me.

“Well, just think of it as your duty to the pack, then. A mission entrusted to you. Believe me, dear, there was a lot of talk about this, and you were chosen by all the elder members for this role.”

I hold back a sniffle, pushing my misery away from me again. She might be right. Even if she isn’t, being numb and detached might be different in a new place. So far, work is torture, home is worse, and anything in between is hell.

“Okay,” I say more firmly than I feel. “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Gladys says warmly. “Will you come in this afternoon and chat with us about it? You don’t have to work if you don’t feel up to it.”

“No, it’s okay, I can do my shift. I’ll get ready now and come in so I can talk to the others.”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you soon.”

“Sure, bye.”

I hang up the phone and look out the window. The pale clouds are streaming across the sky, the wind tearing at them and shredding them into long, gray ribbons. I can feel a storm of the same fury raging inside me, but it’s far away, buried under layers of ice.

Maybe it should stay there.

I pull myself out of the chair and start getting ready. I don’t even feel excited or nervous about finding out who my husband will be. This is all just duty to me. More misery for a heart that already has far too much to carry.