Now, here I was again, pouring my love into something more meaningful, something more valuable. But the weight of that gift felt heavier in Klaus’s hands than it ever had before.
He drove back home, the silence of the car suffocating. When he stepped inside, he laid out the rings and tie clips on the dining table, next to the feast he had prepared earlier. The food was cold now, untouched. He opened a bottle of champagne he had been saving for a special occasion—something we would have shared, laughing, talking about the future, about pups and plans for our pack.
He poured a glass, his fingers shaking just slightly, and picked up his phone. His heart thudded in his chest as he stared at the open chat.
[Mavis, I received your gift. I like it very much.]
He hit send.
[Please come back. I’ll explain everything, and I promise this won’t happen again.]
The minutes dragged into hours, the silence growing louder with every tick of the clock. The cold food mocked him from across the table, the champagne now flat and bitter.
Klaus prowled beneath the surface, agitated. "She’s not coming back," he growled. Klaus tried to push the thought away, but his patience had run thin.