Page 5 of Stuck with my Pack
ETHAN
My body is hot, and my heart’s pounding. A storm is brewing under my skin, and if I don’t get a handle on it, I’m going to explode. I stomp back to my orchard, my boots crunching against the uneven path as I let the tension simmering in my body become a maelstrom.
Sophie. Back in Twilight Harbor. My teeth clench at the thought. Every step seems to echo with the sound of her voice, the fiery bite of her words still fresh in my mind. She’s the last person I expected to see standing there, hands on her hips, eyes blazing like she hadn’t left without a word all those years ago.
Seeing her today left me wondering how I went from picturing forever with her to watching her leave the first time.
My four-wheeler is right where I left it, my tools scattered across the ground just like my composure. I was supposed to fix the broken gate by the property’s northern edge, but now, I can’t focus. Everything feels like a reminder of her.
Why now? Why here? The questions batter the inside of my skull, my heart demanding answers I know I won’t get. Not from Sophie, anyhow. She’s always had a way of leaving things half-finished—words, promises, and, apparently, goodbyes.
The orchard stretches before me, rows of trees heavy with ripe apples. Usually, the sight calms me, but today, it’s just a blur of green and red. I try to ground myself in the familiar scents of the orchard—crisp fruit, damp earth, brought forth by the sunlight filtering through the leaves—but Sophie’s scent clings to me like a second skin.
Her intoxicating smell of vanilla and wildflowers was tinged with something uniquely Sophie. My Omega.
I shake my head, banishing the thought. No. She doesn’t belong to me. Not anymore.
I grab a fallen branch and snap it in two, the sound sharp and satisfying.
The orchard feels smaller now, claustrophobic even. The memories stirred up by seeing her are relentless, digging up things I thought I’d buried long ago.
I can still see her as she was back then—softer, younger, but always with that spark in her eye. The same spark I saw today.
I toss the branch pieces into a pile and turn toward the house. I need a distraction. Or maybe a drink.
Instead, I decide to visit Lily. My sister always has something to say, whether I want to hear it or not.
As I stepinto Lily’s kitchen, the familiar scent of cinnamon and fresh bread greets me. She’s standing by the counter, her hair pulled into a messy bun, slicing into a loaf of what looks like her latest baking experiment. Her belly bigger every time I see her.
“Ethan!” she chirps, her voice bright as sunshine. “What’s gotten into you? Why are you stomping around like a bull in a china shop?”
I grunt, sitting at the kitchen island and propping my elbows on the granite countertop.
“What?! I can’t just want to see my baby sister?”
“HA!” she scoffs. But her hands fly to her belly and her face pinches in discomfort. I’m instantly alarmed.
“Are you ok?” I don't know anything about pregnant women except that my sister is due any day.
“Yeah, yeah, im good, these Braxton Hicks contractions be brutal”
“Contractions! Should we be going to the hospital?”
“Relax brother, it’s normal and the wrong kind of contractions anyway. So what really brings you here?”
“Just needed to get out of the orchard for a bit.”
Her eyes narrow as she sets down the knife. “Uh-huh. Try again. You look like you’ve just been handed a sack of shit and told it was croissant.”
I laugh briefly at her choice of words, then sigh, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Sophie’s back.”
The words hang in the air for a moment before Lily’s face lights up with something between surprise and glee.
“Wait. Sophie? Sophie Everhart?ThatSophie?”
I nod, already regretting bringing it up.
