Page 77 of Knot Your Sugar

Neither is Dorian.

Chapter thirty-nine

Elena

The cheap suitcase I arrived in Lakeview with three years ago stares at me from the middle of my living room. It’s open, already half-filled with a haphazard jumble of clothes.

My hands tremble as I shove another sweater into the burgeoning pile, not bothering to fold it. What’s the point? Everything else in my life has unraveled so spectacularly, why should my packing be any different? Disqualified. Fired. Humiliated. The words repeat in my head like a taunting mantra, each one another twist of the knife in my bleeding pride.

Stupid, stupid, stupid,I mutter, the word a bitter punctuation mark to every item I toss into the suitcase. Stupid to let my guard down with those alphas. Stupid to believe that I could somehow have it all: my career, my independence, and… whatever I started to feel.

I catch my reflection in the small mirror by the door. I look flushed and wild-eyed, my hair a complete disaster. The unbearable urge that hijacked my body has calmed down since the 'incident' in the woods. But I’m still furious. Furious that it happened at all. That my biology turned against me at the worst possible moment.

You got exactly what you deserved, Elena,a vicious little voice whispers in the back of my mind, poisonous and persistent.You played with fire, denied your own nature, and now you’ve been truly burned.

I’ve become my own cautionary tale. The omega who thought she could outsmart biology, who believed she could control her destiny, only to have it all blow up in her face.

Tears, hot and angry, prick at the backs of my eyes, but I blink them back fiercely. I willnotcry. Not anymore. Crying won’t change anything. It won’t un-disqualify me. It won’t un-fire me. It won’t un-expose me as the out-of-control mess I am.

I can't stay here. Not in this town where people will soon connect the dots, realizing I'm an omega. I need to escape. To disappear. To lick my wounds in private.

The bus. That’s the answer. An anonymous bus, taking me back to Mom, where no one knows I'm a disgraced baker.

* * *

My phone buzzes on the slightly blackened kitchen counter, Mia’s name lighting up the screen, along with a succession of increasingly frantic messages.

WHAT HAPPENED???

Everyone's talking about you and Dorian! Are you okay?

CALL ME!!

Of course, she’s heard. News travels faster than a wildfire here, especially news this juicy. Everyone in Lakeview must already know about the baker who threw away her shot at the final for a quickie in the woods.

I let Mia's calls go to voicemail, each ring tightening the ache in my chest. I can’t talk to her, not yet. Not until I’m miles away from here. She'll understand why I had to leave. Why I couldn’t tell the truth… We'll still see each other… just not in Lakeview.

Before I realize, my fingers move on their own, dialing a different number. The one I know will always pick up.

"Elena? Honey, is that you? Are you alright?" Mom's voice, warm, steady, familiar, wraps around me like a balm, and for the first time all day, I breathe.

And then the dam breaks. The tears I’ve been holding back spill over. Everything comes pouring out: the DuoBlocks, the alphas, the disqualification, the firing, losing the apartment. I confess it all in a tangled rush of words and self-blame, punctuated by hiccuping sobs.

She listens patiently, her silence a comforting, non-judgmental embrace reaching me across the distance.

"Oh, sweetie," she says softly when I finally run out of words. "You’ve been carrying such a heavy burden, all by yourself, for so long."

"I just… I messed everything up, Mom," I whisper, fresh tears blurring my vision. "Everything I worked for… it’s all gone."

"Is it, Elena?" she asks gently. "Or does it just feel that way right now?"

"Pierre fired me. I’m disqualified from the festival. I need to vacate my apartment. And the whole town probably thinks I’m some kind of… lunatic."

"Pierre is a curmudgeon, yes but he has a heart. I'm sure he adores you, even if he’d rather chew off his own arm than admit it," she says, a hint of fond exasperation in her voice. "He’ll cool down, leave you the apartment. And as for the town… people have short memories, Elena, especially when there’s fresh gossip to be had. What they’ll remember is the way you make magic with flour and sugar."

"But what about… what about the alphas?" I manage, the words almost sticking in my throat. "After how I acted toward them… they probably want nothing to do with me. And even if they did… it’s too complicated, Mom. Too dangerous. I can’t… I can’t lose myself the way you did." The unspoken words,the way you did with Dad, hang heavy in the air.

"Oh, Elena," she sighs, and I can hear the years of her own quiet pain in that single, breathy sound. "You’ve always been so afraid of repeating my mistakes, haven’t you? So determined to be independent, to be strong, to never let anyone have power over you."

---