Chapter Eighty-one

**GABRIEL** 
I lay still in my bed, my mind buzzing with thoughts, so much so that there was now a steady pounding in the back of my soul. As the days dragged on, I was made more aware of Oliver’s absence, and how much I missed him. My wolf whined at the back of my head at the thought of his mate, a mate he had decisively neglected. 
I groaned and covered my face with my hands. What had I been thinking?! Yes, I agreed with Carrie that we needed space, there was too much, and yet nothing going on. He needed time to sort his feelings, and I…well…I needed time to do the same, but I hadn’t expected that it would be so hard. So far, I have been able to sort nothing. 
My hand reached out to touch the cold spot next to me in my bed, where Oliver had once slept, and my hands wrapped around the sheet, my eyes closed, and I prayed to the powers that be that Oliver would materialize out of this air and appear next to me. Smiling at me, with his bright blue eyes twinkling with the amusement and excitement that was Oliver. 
I loosened my grip around my cellular device, sighing as blood flowed back into my hands. I thought to myself why it had taken me so long to place a call to him. I didn’t have to think for long, I already knew the answer. I was ashamed and then I was afraid. 
I was ashamed of how I had left, or how I had planned to sneak out, of the pure pain that had reflected in Oliver’s eyes as he beheld my bag in hand and figured I was leaving…leaving without as much as a goodbye or an explanation. And then afraid that it would all be over if I placed that call. What if he didn’t want to talk to me? What if he no longer wanted to talk to me ever again? What if I had destroyed with my own hands the one good thing that had been deposited in my lap? 
I sighed sat up in my bed, and stared at the device in my hand, my mind still in the valley of decisions, my spirit warring with my soul. Finally, I swallow the cowardice and place the call, my heart jumping into my throat with each ring. And then the rings stopped. He hadn’t picked. 
I groaned and placed the call, praying that he picked up, praying that it was all in my head and that Oliver hadn’t written me off completely. 
And my prayers were answered. 
My grip on my phone tightened as it held it up against my ear. I could hear him breathing on the other end of the line, and I wondered if he knew who it was before picking up the call. We remained that way for a while, just existing together…breathing together. 
“Did you call me to hear me breathe, Gabriel?” Oliver asked, his voice cold as ice. 
I sighed heavily and ran my hand through my hair, uncertain of how to feel. The familiar butterflies in my stomach fluttered at the sound of his voice. I bit down on my lip, feeling a cold sweat break out on my brow. I could hear the anger in his voice, in that one question, and I was unsure of how to proceed. 
I laughed nervously. “Hello, Oliver…” 
Silence. 
I sighed and continued. “Where are you?” I asked. 
“Where did you leave me?” He countered. 
I nodded my head, and bit down in my lip again, header this time. I shouldn’t have asked him that. Realizing that I didn’t even have an appropriate answer to the question. 
“How are you?” 
I swore under my breath as the question left my lips, and pinched myself. Recognizing that of the questions I shouldn’t have asked, I shouldn’t have asked the most. 
Oliver scoffed, and even without being there, I knew that he rolled his eyes. “How do you expect that I would be?” He asked, his voice cold as ice. 
I took a deep breath, and for the first time since the beginning of the call, admitted to myself that things were much worse than what I had envisioned them to be. I shifted on the bed, the whole room suddenly becoming stuffy…hot. The air in the room had suddenly become suffocating. My mind ran agog with pictures. What was I going to do if Oliver decided to return the favor and leave me? 
Fuck! 
“Won’t you ask how I am?” I ask, and then lower my head in shame. 
It was beginning to feel as though j had made this call to ask a collection of terrible questions. 
“If you were fine to leave me for this long without as much as a call or a text, you must be fine with wherever it is you are.” 
I nodded and sighed, my heart beating an unsteady rhythm in my chest. “Oliver…” his name rolled off my lips like a prayer. “I’m sorry…it was never my intention to leave you, and especially for this long.” 
The silence on the other end of the call was deafening, I could hear him moving around, pots and pans clicking together, and I somewhat envied him. He was able to function, to continue to live his life in my absence, whereas the same couldn’t be said for me. 
After the long silence, his laughter burst through the phone, unexpectedly. My brows furrowed in confusion as I waited for the laughter to subside. 
“What’s funny?” I asked carefully. 
Oliver chuckled. “What is funny? Why, you, of course,” he answered. “Do you even realize how long it took you to pick up the phone and call me?” 
Forever. It took me forever. I closed my eyes against the pain I felt in my chest. 
“I swear, Oliver, I never meant to hurt you.” 
“And yet…hurt me, you did…” 
I stand to my feet and begin to pace the room, eventually stopping my sojourns at the windows, sighing as the coastal breeze blows against my bare chest. I could hear sniffing through the phone, and my heart skipped a hit, guilt and anger warred inside me with no victor. 
“I’m sorry, Oliver…” 
Oliver scoffed. “You kept apologizing.” 
“Because I mean it. It was never my intention to hurt you, I swear!” 
“Just as well, because your apology means nothing to me,” Oliver said. 
I felt my heart break in my chest at his words, and I found myself wanting to fall to my knees and beg him for mercy. To grovel at his feet until he deemed me worthy of his forgiveness. 
“Please don’t talk like that…” 
“Talk like what?” 
“Like you…” 
Like you no longer love me. It was always right there on the tip of my tongue but I stopped myself just in time. Because what if he confirmed my greatest fears? What if he told me right now in this call that he no longer wanted me? That he no longer needed me? How was I supposed to go on living life? 
Oliver sighed heavily. “Where are you currently?” He asked. 
“Crystal cove.” 
“How is Martha?” Oliver asked, and I could hear his smile. 
I chuckled, somewhat grateful for the change in subject. “Martha’s great. The old lady’s still kicking. She misses you…” 
“I’ve missed her too.” 
“I've missed you.” 
Silence. Like a spell cast on this particular phone call. And then when he finally spoke, his voice was stony, and irritated, crushing my already broken heart into tiny, undetectable pieces. I looked down at my hand to see it shaking and sweaty. 
“Please cut it out with all that corny nonsense.” 
My heart crashed into my stomach, and I found myself wondering if he hated me. But it was just like all the other questions I wouldn’t ask because I was afraid that the answers would be in the affirmative. 
“I love you so much, Oliver.” 
“Goodbye, Gabriel.” 
And without giving me the chance to say my goodbyes, the line went dead. I stood at the window, phone held up to my ear, refusing to believe that the call had ended the way that it did. Tears gathered in my eyes and I let it fall. I realized that the space might not have been the best idea. 
No. My refusal to communicate the need for space was the problem. I had given off the impression that I no longer loved him that I was tired of him, that I had given up on him. And now…now, it was beginning to look like he no longer loved me…like he no longer wanted me. 
I threw my phone down on the bed and began to pace my room, wearing a hole in the freshly polished floors. I threaded my hands through my hair, and suddenly, the room felt too small, and the whole house felt too small. I needed to get out. 
I barged out of my room and was out of the house through the backdoor, the forests behind calling out to me to empty my rage, my frustrations. In one swift move, I shifted and tore a path through the forest at top speed, enjoying the wind against my fur, ignoring the branches and twigs that snapped back in my face. I felt my lungs expand to take in more air and charge even faster, enjoying the burn in my limbs as I ran. 
I found my way to a flowing stream and slumped at its banks, staring at my reflection in the water and wondering what I had done to myself. I lay there till it was nighttime, I lay there until it began to rain heavily, my fur drenched in the rain. 
But it didn’t matter. None of that did. The pain was what I deserved, and so I lay there and braved the weather.