Chapter Fifty-Two

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Chapter Fifty-Two

It takes four days for me to finally muster up the courage to talk to Turin.

Well, that's not entirely true. I'd seen him around the pack house, and we'd spoken. But hadn't had The Talk. I was still sleeping in Rory and Nolan's guest room, avoiding Turin whenever possible.

Logically, I knew Rory was right. I wasn't letting myself feel anything outside of the guilt after Cillian's death. I was starting to have cracks of feelings coming through, moments where I'd laugh and smile and forget about everything that happened. Or even moments where I wasn't exactly happy, but I was content. Moments where I wasn't drowning in guilt, painful memories, or grief.

I knew I couldn't avoid Turin forever, and I owed him more than awkward conversions and avoidance. But before I could give him an answer, I needed to clear up my own head and figure out what I wanted.

Which is what led me to my decision to take a walk through the forest. It was almost March, and there was still plenty of snow on the ground for me to trek through. But I told myself that I needed some time to myself to think. So, I bundled up in every layer I could find in Rory's house, left her a note for when she returned from her meeting, and headed into the trees.

Ten minutes into my walk, I realized what a terrible idea it was. The boots I had found weren't nearly waterproof enough to keep out the snow, so my socked feet were already wet and freezing. The wind was harsher than I had anticipated, and my face was already burning from the impact. But I didn't turn around and head back, partially because I'm stubborn, and partially because I wasn't positive that I could find my way back.

I knew I should feel more worried about being lost and cold in the forest, but I was eerily calm. Rory knew where I was, and if I didn't return soon, I knew she could easily find me. So, I didn't panic, and instead focused on why I came out here in the first place.

The only issue was I had no idea how to get rid of the guilt that followed me around. Even as I walked, I couldn't stop thinking about how different it would be if Cillian were here. He'd probably be furious at me for going off on my own, and he'd storm after me and force me back home. He'd lock me in the house just to make sure I didn't go out again, and I'd yell at him for being so controlling. It would no doubt end in tears and frustration, but still, at least he would be here.

"You never should have come after me...I should be the one in the ground right now," I found myself muttering to the trees around me as I trudged through the snow, "I never had anyone that would miss me too much, but you had a whole pack waiting for you to come home."

I don't know what I expected the trees to respond with, but the rustling of leaves in the wind was all I got. And it was highly disappointing. Part of me hoped Cillian would appear from behind a tree and tell me this was all some twisted trick. Though even if Cillian were to miraculous come back, the question of Turin and I's relationship would still be up in the air. If he were to come back, would Turin have to leave again?

The more I thought about it, the less and less I found myself hoping Cillian would appear. It was a terrible thought, but I knew what the result would be. We'd be right back where we started. Cillian would hate the idea of Turin and I being friends. Turin would be too considerate and would distance himself, maybe even leave again. The idea of it made me feel sick to my stomach, and I found myself stumbling on a tree root underneath the snow.

"Ugh, this was a terrible idea..." I muttered to myself as I caught myself on a nearby tree trunk. I shook my foot off, trying to get feeling back into my numb toes, but it wasn't successful. I was wet, cold, and shivering at this point, and had no idea which direction to get home.

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