7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Beth

M y lips are tingling when I wake up, and they curve into a smile for a tenth of a second before I'm conscious enough to remind myself of everything that came after falling for an Alpha.

It's always a struggle to get out of bed when I've been dreaming about my ex. My mind fixates on how we started, because that's the good part. I used to replay all of those early days over and over, looking for the red flags I must have missed.

I stopped when I realized there was only one.

Alphas don't take Betas as true mates.

I let myself believe his lies because I wanted them to be true.

I should have known it was all just a game to him.

But he made me feel special, and I had no idea how much I needed that feeling.

My friends spent a lot of time trying to get me to hate him after it was over.

I wanted to hate him, but I could never feel that way.

I tried, but I just couldn't.

It's better when I pretend he never existed.

Then, I can act like none of it ever happened.

Sometimes, when I'm reminded of him, I wonder what he's doing now.

I still can't stand the thought of him with someone else.

It's like taking a knife to the heart.

It doesn't matter that he played me and dumped me.

He was mine once, and I thought we were forever.

It changed something in me to believe that.

That's not the kind of thing that goes away overnight.

It hasn't gone away more than a year after he shattered my heart and walked away from me.

I shouldn't have any feelings left for him.

Not after he hollowed me out.

Even if I can still feel that first kiss on my lips, he's not a part of my life anymore.

He was never going to be my mate, and I'm never going to see him again.

I wish it didn't hurt to remind myself of that.

Sighing, I sit up in bed.

The temptation to bury myself under the covers comes and goes.

I really don't want to spend all day feeling sad over something that happened a year ago.

My heart already broke for what I lost. Thinking about it will only make me feel worse for being dumb enough to trust another guy, even if the circumstances were totally different.

I don't know how long I sit there for, trying to convince myself to get up, but when my sister knocks quietly on the door, I finally manage to drag myself out from under the covers.

Stifling a yawn, I take a few steps and open the door.

Catherine's already dressed.

Why am I not surprised?

"Just thought I'd better wake you before it hits noon," she tells me. "If you want to go get some junk food, now's the time."

"I'll be ready in ten," I tell her.

She nods. "I have to go out later, so you'll be on your own for dinner."

"No problem."

"I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready to go out."

She leaves and I pick out clothes to take into the bathroom.

Despite crying for a bit last night, I just look the usual amount of tired this morning.

I don't look like I've had an allergic reaction to shellfish, I just have the usual bags under my eyes.

In about fifteen minutes time, I'm cleaned up and dressed, and I've applied just enough make up to look less like I'm exhausted.

A spritz of perfume on my collar, and a slick of gloss on my lips, and I'm ready to head out into the world.

I put my cross-body purse over my shoulder, and I walk into the kitchen to find Catherine sitting at the table with a half-finished cup of coffee in front of her.

"That was quick," she tells me.

"Yeah, well I'm having some serious candy cravings," I joke.

She gets up. "Then let's get going."

"You can finish your coffee first."

"I'm done," she admits. "It's already cold."

She was probably waiting a while before she knocked on my door to make sure I was awake then. I feel a little guilty about intruding on her life like this. She probably does stuff on the weekends and here I am making her go out to get candy.

"If you've got other stuff to do …" I start.

"I don't have other stuff to do until later," she says. "We can do what you want until six, okay?"

"If you're sure," I murmur.

"I'm sure. Now let's go before you start shaking from a lack of sugar."

I laugh. "I'm not that addicted."

"I don't know about that," she says. "I distinctly recall waking up one easter morning to find my little sister with a chocolate covered face while she devoured the last of the chocolate eggs from the hunt Mom and Dad organised in the house the night before."

"Bring that up again, why don't you?" I groan.

It was the worst easter morning ever. I ate way too much and gave myself a stomach-ache, and I made my sisters' angry because I found and ate all the hidden eggs before they were even awake. Catherine was the only one who didn't get mad.

"It was funny," she says, smiling.

"No one else thought it was funny."

She shrugs. "You know Maggie and Pearl are stick in the muds. They could have cut you some slack for being the youngest. It's not like you planned to ruin their morning, or whatever. You were five."

"I guess," I murmur, wondering why our parents made me feel so terrible for it.

Catherine's right. I didn't plan it. I just woke up early, and as usual, couldn't contain myself.

"Do you ever wonder if our parents didn't really want to have four kids?" I ask.

Her smile turns wry. "Oh, they wanted to have kids. They just had no idea how much work we'd be. I heard them talking a bunch of times. They were overwhelmed a lot when you three were younger."

"And I suppose you were the perfect daughter from birth?"

She laughs. "I doubt that, but obviously they'd forgotten how much of a terror I was by the time they decided to have more kids."

"Obviously," I tease.

"Hm, maybe we shouldn't be getting you candy," she says.

"If I don't get some soon, I might turn homicidal," I threaten.

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm not a man."

Oh my God. I totally forgot about Catherine Corrects.

She used to do that all the freaking time when I was a kid.

Drove all of us mad, but it was also kind of funny.

I press my lips together, trying not to laugh.

"What?" she asks.

"Femicidal, then. Wait, what's the word for murdering a sister? Siblingcide?"

"It's sororicide, actually," Catherine says. "Siblicide is murder of a sibling."

"How do you even know all that stuff?"

She smiles. "I worked in a law office for a while, typing reports."

"Wow. That must have been gruesome if you learned those words there."

"You have no idea, and you'd probably rather continue not to have any idea. Now, let's get moving. We're burning daylight."

I'll take her word for it.

I'm in serious need of a sugar-fix, and I seriously don't want a bowl of fruit and nuts for my breakfast today. I follow her into the hallway and watch her unlock the door.

"Oh, hey, if you're going to be out later can I have a key?"

She looks back at me and presses her lips together. "When was the last time you lost your keys?"

Oh, great. I know she doesn't remember I'm bad with keys, because she wasn't living at home when I got a key for the house, but clearly Mom or MJ blabbed about it at some point.

I suppose losing six keys is kind of a lot.

It's hard to remember where I've put stuff that I don't usually need.

They're probably lying around my bedroom somewhere.

I doubt Catherine wants to hear that.

"I've never lost my dorm room key." I also haven't been at college for very long.

She raises an eyebrow, then lets out a sigh. "If anything happens to this key, you tell me immediately so I can have the lock changed, okay? We live in the city, now, Beth. There are too many creeps and weirdoes out there to not worry about stuff like that."

She's not wrong. I should know, considering I dated at least one of them.

"Cross my heart, I'll tell you. I won't lose it, but I'll tell you if I do."

She takes a key off her chain and passes it to me.

I immediately put it into a zipped pocket of my purse.

This is where you live now, key. Don't go missing on me.

The last thing I want to lose is Catherine's trust.

I can keep one little key from getting lost.

How hard can that be?