Page 24 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
“Gabe called Carol anEncyclopain,” I said, wiping under my eye as I tried to hold back another laugh.
“What?” Patrick's laughter still sounded a bit forced, his mind still on past tragedies. “They never told me. What happened?”
“Oh, it was in the waiting room. Everyone was on edge, as you can probably imagine. We were waiting to hear from the doctors, assuming the worst. Tense doesn't even come close to how it was. Carol kept grilling the nurses, demanding updates, quoting spinal injury stats like a walking med journal. Gabe was pacing like a caged tiger, and she told him tosit down before he wore a hole in the linoleum. He snapped back,Why don’t you shut it, Encyclopain?”
Patrick barked a laugh, hand over his mouth. “Encyclopain?”
I nodded, grinning now. “Yeah. Carol turned bright red and called him an emotionally stunted meathead, which, to be fair, wasn’t entirely inaccurate.”
“Sounds like Carol.”
“Right? And then Henry told them both to shut up or take it outside. Meanwhile, I sat there, holding onto a paper cup of cold coffee like it was holy water, wondering if anyone in that waiting room wasnotslowly losing their mind.”
He shook his head, smiling that soft, nostalgic smile I hadn’t seen in a decade. “Nobody ever told me.”
“You didn’t miss much,” I said. “Except for Carol threatening to stab Gabe with a thermometer.”
Patrick laughed again, and this time the sound was warm and full. It rolled through me like sunshine.
Our eyes met,the air sizzled heavily between us, and I felt myself leaning forward, ready to cup her chin and kiss her, but she turned away. And I let her.
"We should probably get back," Ella suggested.
As much as I wanted to stay here and talk more with her, I knew she was right. This was a good step forward in our relationship, but that's all it was. There was still a canyon between us, filled with old memories and pain we needed to navigate. Her more than me. I got that. So with a sigh, I followed her lead, and we put the empty dishes back into the basket. I shook out the blanket and folded it.
"This was nice," I said. "Thank you."
Her smile was almost shy—so not like the go-getter Ella I had known so long ago. Not even like the business Ella I was getting to know now. It was sweet and heartfelt, and it did things to my insides I didn’t know I still had the capacity to feel.
It also made me feel like an ass. Like a huge, steaming,unforgivableass. I had broken this woman’s heart. Torn it right out, stomped on it, and left it bleeding at the foot of a hospital bed. For the first time, thefullreality of that landed. Not the abstract guilt I’d carried around like background noise. No—this was sharp, deep, and consuming. If someone else had done to her what I’d done? I’d beat the living shit out of them.
Thorne stirred deep in my chest, low and growling.There it is. Guilt. Shame. Long overdue, genius. You broke our mate, and now you’re surprised she flinches when you get too close?
She flinched,I admitted, the unspoken words burning in my throat.
Damn right she did,Thorne snapped. You earned it. Don’t act shocked now, just because you want her back.
I clenched my jaw as I folded the blanket, trying to ignore the way my hands trembled just slightly.
She used to lean into us, Thorne went on, his voice quiet now. Almost mournful.Remember? She’d tuck under your chin like she belonged there. She did belong there. You threw that away.
I know.
Fix it.
I’m trying.
Ella looked back at me then, catching me mid-thought. Her brows lifted like she could tell I was a million miles away.
“Need help with that?” she asked, nodding at the basket.
“No,” I said quickly. “I got it.”
She nodded, brushing her fingers on her jeans, then started toward the trail. I fell into step beside her. We didn’t talk much on the walk back. But it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind of silence. It was… thoughtful. Measured. The kind of quiet that said we were both working through the weight of what had just passed between us.
When we reached the truck, I opened the door for her like always. She paused, looked up at me like she wanted to say something—but didn’t. Just slid into the seat with a little exhale.
“Thank you,” she said softly, after I got in and started the truck.
