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The Lonely Wolf

To phase the first time: disorienting. Horrible. Terrifying. Painful. To become a monster: sickening. Strange. Agonizing. Estranging. This we know from Jacob. Must it not have been so much worse to be Sam? He did it all... and he did it all alone. A story in the perspective of the first of our beloved werewolves, Sam Uley. From shortly before the time of his first phase to his marriage to Emily Young.

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20. Chapter 20

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“What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses. Not anger, though. It’s directed more internally than anything else. She wants to know how she’s supposed to deal with seeing me there.

Though my heart is no longer my own to give her, I ache for her pain, because I remember loving her. It still hurts to see her furious and bleeding from my cruelty.

“I… I just needed groceries.”

“Where are you living?”

“Nowhere, at the moment. Makes shopping kind of inconvenient.” I try to smile at her. It’s a wasted effort.

“I can’t talk to you.”

She turns away.

I catch her arm. “Why not?”

Her attempt to walk away doesn’t stop. It doesn’t succeed, either, not with my formidable strength keeping her here (though I am careful not to bruise her arm, I’ve caused her enough pain), but she doesn’t relax or turn back towards me. She continues to subtly struggle against me, not enough to make a scene, but enough that she makes it very clear she doesn’t want me here.

“Lee-lee…” I pull out my secret nickname for her. It’s a rare thing that I used it, even when we were alone, anywhere outside the mushy declarations of love she tried to shy away from. It’s cruel to even remind her it exists, I suppose, but I can’t help myself. She freezes cold in her tracks. I release her arm, and it drops slowly to her side, almost without her interference, as she pivots, just as slowly, to stare at me.

“What do you want?” she whispers.

“Leah,” I amend, “You’re going to have to learn to be able to talk to me. We… we’re having a baby. And even if I can’t… can’t be with you like I always planned, we have to decide what we’re going to do.”

“No, we don’t.”

“What? Leah, we can’t wait.”

“Why not?”

I am hesitant to press the idea. I don’t want to cause her more and more pain, but I don’t see any other way. “Leah, you have to be three, four months along now. And I guess… it’s getting to be urgent. I need you to know that I’ll be there for the little one, even if I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not urgent.” Her voice is unexpectedly flat. Not like the pain and anger are gone, more like she’s numb to it all now.

“Yes, it is. We’re having a baby, Leah. How are we going to do it?”

“We’re not having anything.”

I carefully turn away, struggling to maintain my calm. It isn’t easy. I can feel anger surge over my spine. There is a crackling heat in my hands and feet, and the first spasm starts in my torso as my limbs shake with the burning.

Carefully, I breathe. Not in front of her. I can’t literally tear her to pieces on top of what I’ve done to her heart.

It’s so hard. Knowing what she means, what I’ve made her do… it is too much. Too cruel. That I should be the cause of… of this. When we were going to have such a lovely life together. Now there is nothing. Not even the shards of it for her.

“What do you mean?” I ask one final time, just to be absolutely clear.

She understands my intent, and kindly clarifies. “Sam, I had an abortion.”