Swiftcurrent Creek fresh out the slammer

ilu boo

Nagging him about kids—when she had said she wanted him over kids, and he wanted to make her happy.

Their beginning had been the start of their end—he hadn’t been dishonest when he had said give him time. That moment he had scented her in their den, the panic and upset had been real—he had asked her what would happen if he did fuck up their kids.

She had let him know how she felt by doing this.

He watched her go—a farewell by words was unnecessary for him in this moment. He could see now that she wasn’t who he thought she was. That Arric had seen something—and he had defended her anyway—

—and he truly was grateful that they hadn’t had kids. Because this was inevitable in the end.

He turned, then, and sought the solitude of the swiftly running creek. The noise of rushing water—the familiarity that surrounded him.

He had survived worse than this. At least, that was what he told himself in the moment.