32. Monica

32

MONICA

T wice in one month. God himself must be laughing at me.

He should be. Once again, I was ringing Erica's bell, well past midnight. Eager to get what I had done off my chest. Hoping that my dear friend would not shout at me and kick me out.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, the skin of her face tightening. "Girl, you look like a beaten dog. What the hell happened to you?"

"Nothing to me," I said, shoulders slumped and having a hard time keeping my head held high. "I did something. Except I don't know whether it was the right thing or not."

"That's why it couldn't wait ‘til tomorrow morning?," She asked, gesturing me in. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Yeah. And leave the bottle," I said, making my way towards her couch.

"Mon, you're scaring the crap out of me," Erica said, pausing halfway to the kitchen. "You never have anything stronger than beer, and now you, you of all people, want to get drunk?"

"Yes!" I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air and unable to hold back the tears that had been threatening for my entire drive here any longer. "I dumped him, Erica. With a letter. I couldn't even look him in the eye. God I'm the worst."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head sideways as she reached into her liquor cabinet. "Okay, but I'm still waiting to hear ‘why' you did it."

"Things have changed since the last time we talked," I remarked. "He's the Alpha now. The leader of his…"

"I know what an Alpha is," she interrupted. "I've seen documentaries about wolves. Go on."

"The other day, he, uh…" I faltered as she returned to her living room. "Well, he said he killed some vampire. I have no reason to doubt that, but I'm terrified, Erica. A freaking vampire! What's next? As if witches and shifters wasn't enough danger, but vampires too?"

"Vampires…" she snorted. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You know, considering we recently found out about guys that can turn into wolves. At least I've heard of vampires. Do you know if they're like the legends? You know, garlic, crosses, all that?"

"No," I say, staring at her, her mundane question stirring something akin to disbelief. She was taking all of this much more in stride than I was. "Does it matter?"

She shrugged and poured two stiff drinks then set one in front of me while holding onto the other.

"No, probably not," she said, taking a sip of the cranberry vodka she fixed for both of us. "Not really. So, he fought a vampire. He must have won, or we'd be having a different conversation, so what's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" I asked, eyes wide and mouth open. I forced myself to take a drink to try to give myself a moment to compose my thoughts. The vodka sat in my belly with a burning warmth and then I gave her at least part of the truth. "What if he leaves one morning and I never see him alive again?"

"Possible," she says, nodding her understanding. "But you could say the same of anyone. How about police officer wives? Or military wives? How is this any different?"

There was no arguing with her logic, but I wanted to. I wanted to prove her wrong. I wanted to assert how right I was for getting out of this situation, even though, deep down, I knew I was wrong. Or at least the reasons I was giving were wrong. Or more accurately not the whole truth.

"It is," I whispered, swirling the cherry-colored liquid in my glass, staring at the murky bottom as if the answers I needed might be hidden there.

"And, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't he already a member of that pack?"

"Yeah, he was," I confirmed with a nod. "Why?"

"To get to the real reason why you dumped him, you stupid cow ," she groaned, setting her glass on the coffee table. "Come on Monica, what was it? The truth, because it's not that crap about him becoming the Alpha."

Her accusations cut like a knife and my first instinct was denial and anger. The protests were there on the tip of my tongue, barbs ready to fly, to tell her how stupid she was and how she never supported me when I needed her and, and, and…

But I didn't. I didn't say a word because as much as her words hurt, she was right and I damn well knew it. Was it a problem that he might die? Of course it was. But it was also an excuse. A way out of the situation without having to dig into the truth.

I stared at my glass then slowly lifted it to my lips. It started out as a sip but then I didn't stop. I kept going and going until it was empty and the ice clinked against my teeth. I set the glass down on the coffee table. Erica dutifully grabbed it and went back into the kitchen, mixing another one for me.

I couldn't even lift my head. The weight on my shoulders was too great. Erica silently returned, setting my refilled drink in front of me before resuming her seat across the table. It felt as if my arm was moving in slow motion as I reached for the drink. Lifting was a level of effort that a single glass should never require, but I managed to take a sip then sigh and shake my head.

"You're right. That was only a pretext," I admitted, ice clinking together in my glass.

"Okay," Erica said, leaning back in the overstuffed chair and putting her feet onto the coffee table. "Spill it."

I looked up and met her steady, warm gaze. She held her glass before her, swirling the drink before taking a sip. She was patient, waiting, knowing that eventually I'd speak if she waited long enough.

"It's this whole supernatural dynamic I'm caught up in. Shifters? Witches? Vampires? What the hell was I doing in that world, Erica? I don't belong there. What right do I have to be a part of any of that? I'm a human. And let's say things got serious between him and me someday. Would our children even be human? Or would they be… like him?"

"I stand by my earlier statement," she said. Her tone was firm, but her gaze had a nasty, judgmental glare. "You really are stupid."

"What? Because I don't know what kind of children I'd have with him?" I asked, my voice rising two octaves.

"No. That part is understandable," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "But that's only another excuse, isn't it? No, I mean the supernatural dynamic. I'll grant you that it would take some getting used to. But you loved being part of his world, Mon.

Admit it. Okay, sure, it scared the bejesus out of you, but you had this gorgeous guy looking after you every step of the way. Hell, Mon, he even risked his own life, so that you two could be together. And what do you do? You dump him. No, more than that, you dump him with a letter. Bravo ," she said as she gave three sarcastic claps. "You're a worthy contender for the ‘worst girlfriend of the year' award."

I stared at her in angry disbelief. I came to her for support, not to be called out. And it hurt. I was smart enough and self-aware enough to know why it hurt. But I couldn't admit that.

"You don't approve," I said in barely more than a whisper. "Too bad. You have no idea what it's like. How scary it is. No, fucking terrifying Erica! All the time you're surrounded by creatures that were supposed to only exist in fairytales."

"Maybe, I don't. But you know what I do know? I know what it's like to be surrounded by love," she argued, her own voice tight as she averted her gaze from me. "At the end of the day, Monica, I think it's all that matters."

"Not all," I disagreed, tossing the rest of my drink down in one long swallow. "It may be important, but there are other things that matter, too."

"Oh, yeah, like being normal and abiding by every rule in Ms. Monica Greenwell's book of constricting rules," she said in sarcastic tones.

"Nice, Erica. Sarcasm suits you. Very, helpful. Tell you what, I'll ignore that because I haven't told you one other thing. Rumor, myth, legend, whatever it is."

"Go on?" she asked, when I didn't continue.

I spent a long moment staring at my empty glass. The alcohol was doing its job well. My head was buzzing and I was certain I couldn't walk a straight line, yet I wanted more than anything in that moment for the glass to be full again.

"Refill?" I asked.

"Seriously? You're going to be too wasted to tell me the rest of your dark and sordid little tale of how you are throwing away the greatest opportunity of your life."

"Please?" I asked, tilting the glass towards her.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, then rose and took my glass. I took the opportunity to try to compose myself. Her words had only added to the hurt I was already feeling. She returned with the drink, my third, and I forced myself not to down it, opting instead for a sip.

"There's something else," I said, my voice hoarse. "Perhaps the weirdest thing. It's a… rumor, I guess. Or another of their myths that I was told about the shifters." I took a sip, holding it in my mouth, letting my tongue absorb as much as it could until numbness set in. I swallowed, closed my eyes, and blurted the rest of it out. "Supposedly they have one true mate and if they lose them, or, apparently, can't have them, they die of a broken heart. They said it's their only weakness from the wolf.

But it can't be!" I exclaimed, looking up and meeting her judging gaze. "It's medically impossible. I mean unless someone's really old, which he isn't. It can't be. It's just a rumor, a story they tell each other. It has to be."

I stopped talking as soon as I realized I was only continuing to justify myself. Erica stared with cold hard eyes, a look that did nothing to alleviate the way I was feeling.

"Let me get this right," she said, scooting forward until she's sitting on the edge of her seat. "You didn't just dump Raul. But according to this ‘rumor' or ‘myth' you also, in a way, killed him."

The seriousness in her expression left no room for doubt that she believed her words one hundred percent. My throat was suddenly tight and my heart hurt so bad I almost wondered if I was having a heart attack myself. I shook my head, both to clear it and to deny her accusations.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" I asked "It's not possible for?—"

"Yeah, yeah," she interrupted, waving her hand in front of her face. "You're saying he's too young to die from a broken heart. I may regret saying this, but" she paused and squeezed her lips together. "When will you get off your high horse, Mon? He's not human. There are things about his kind that you don't know. You can't just assume he's too young to die because that's what you were taught in medical school. Human medical school, I should add."

"You think it might be true?" I asked, losing the desire to scowl.

"I do believe it," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Why would he lie to you about something so important? Besides, did he lie to you about anything else?"

I thought over every single thing both he and Helena had said to me, trying, with all the spinney mental capacity I currently had, to find any hint of a lie or even an untruth. A partial truth. Anything. But there was nothing.

"No," I said heavily as doubt crept into my heart. "No, not really. Oh, my God. What if…" I stared at her in disbelief, mouth agape, "what if he is in love with me?"

"If?" Erica has both of her brows cocked up. "Are you deliberately being thick, hun? I mean, what else does he have to do to prove he's in love with you? It's a shame if you ask me. You had a perfectly good man, and you ditched him because, what? Because the doctor within you couldn't accept a few things?

You're an idiot, Mon. Pure and simple. Oh, and good luck finding someone like Raul again. Trust me, you'll need it. I've got a long, long track record I can show you, but not tonight. I'm returning to my bed because I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow. Feel free to let yourself out or you can have the couch. Up to you. Goodnight."

Erica set her barely touched glass onto the coffee table and left. I mumbled goodnight as she left me alone. She was being mean, sure, but she was also being truthful, and I thought that was what I needed more than anything right then. Probably why I went to her in the first place.

I picked up both our glasses and carried them, only a little unsteadily, to the kitchen. I rinsed them out and placed them in the drainer. At the same time, I recalled the book I'd found in the library at Edward Crawford's sanctuary.

"For all her desire to be with him, the human healer shall face inner turmoil. Her heart and mind will clash within her, threatening to curse ‘wise as a wolf' to an untimely death."

Penelope, however, she did it, had been spot-on. If there was ever a moment when I believed, this was it. She had described perfectly what I'd been feeling. I wasn't sure about the second sentence yet. That I had to look into further, but everything indicated that she was right about that too.

Raul didn't have a reason to lie. After exposing his true nature, he had been honest and open about it. I had to get back to Shandaken. I had to have a long conversation with Helena. Unlike Erica and Raul, I didn't think that she would be mad at me for dumping him. At least I hoped. One way or another, I needed answers, and she was my best source.