Chapter 198 ~What Comes After~

Chapter 198 ~What Comes After~
Darius's POV

I sat alone on that couch long after she'd disappeared unable to make myself move just yet. My eyes stayed fixed on the spot where she'd disappeared, and I replayed the entire conversation in my head over and over, trying to figure out whether any of what I said had reached her.
She hadn't yelled nor told me to shut up but she hadn't forgiven me either. I wasn't sure what I'd expected but complete silence wasn't among them. I'd wanted some indication that I'd said the right things, maybe a little relief on her face, something that would tell me I hadn't made things worse.
Instead, she'd listened quietly, and then walked away. I lowered my head and rubbed both hands over my face.
I finally left the room and made my way back to my office, moving through the hallways without really registering any of it. People greeted me as I passed but I was too stuck in my head to acknowledge them.
I sat down behind my desk and stared at the stack of papers Gregory had left on it earlier. I left them untouched as I couldn't make myself focus on anything else at the moment. I felt hollowed out, emptied of something I couldn't quite name.
I had finally said everything I'd been carrying for weeks, gotten every piece of it off my chest and I'd expected that to feel like relief but it didn't. The silence she left behind sat heavier than the silence that had existed before the conversation.
I had told her I would wait as long as it took and that I would accept it if she never forgave me. I'd meant it in the moment, standing there watching her face carefully for any reaction at all. But sitting here now, alone with nothing but the silence of my own office, I was less certain those words were true. I didn't know if I could actually live with the possibility of not being with my mate.
I'd said the words because they were true in theory, because I believed she deserved to hear that her forgiveness wasn't something I was entitled to. But some small, selfish part of me had been hoping, right up until the moment she walked away in silence, that saying everything properly might actually change something between us immediately.
It hadn't. Of course it hadn't. I didn't know why I'd expected otherwise.
I poured myself a glass of liquor to dull the ache I felt in whatever way I could and retrieved Aria's bracelet from my drawer. I slumped into the seat and turned the jewelry over slowly in my hands, my thumb finding the same worn spot along the clasp.
How had I let it get this bad? Why had I trusted the wrong voice so easily? That question circled through my head over and over but I had no real answers to anything, only the weight of what I had done and failed to do.
My wolf stirred low in my chest, quiet in a way that unsettled me more than its anger would have. No snarling, no restlessness, just a low, mournful sound that vibrated somewhere behind my ribs, like even he understood the gravity of the situation and damage incurred.
Something faint moved through the bond then, barely there at all, an ache I couldn't place exactly, and for a brief moment I wondered if it was coming from her, if she was somewhere in this pack house right now feeling something just as heavy as what I was carrying.
I wanted to go to her. I wanted to check, to make sure she was alright, to sit outside her door if that was all she'd allow. But I had no right to disturb her tonight. She had walked away for a reason and reaching out immediately after didn't seem like it would yield a great result.
I turned the bracelet over one more time, watching the way the low light from the lamp caught along its edge, and let myself finally stop fighting the pressure building behind my eyes.
I closed my eyes and a lone tear left the corner of my eye and moved down the side of my face. I did not lift a hand to wipe it, allowing myself the moment of sheer vulnerability. I brought the bracelet closer and pressed my lips against the worn link where my thumb had rested. I held the contact for a long time, the metal cool against my mouth, and let myself sit with everything that had transpired within the day.
There was no resolution. No sudden clarity or peace settled over me the way I might have hoped. There was only the knowledge that I had finally told her the truth and the fear that the truth might not be enough.