As a Sensitive, I Saw Another Woman in My Wolf Mate’s Heart Chapter 11

As a Sensitive, I Saw Another Woman in My Wolf Mate’s Heart Chapter 11

On the last evening of the exhibition, I stood alone in the center of the gallery.

The necklace called “First Meeting” shone beneath the spotlight.

On the display card, I had written one line:

[For the person I met when I was seven. He lived in my heart for a long time, and later, he moved out. Now this room belongs to me.]

After standing there for a while, I turned and walked out.

The sky outside had already gone dark.

The streetlights had just come on.

In the parking lot, I saw his car parked near the exit from far away.

He stood beside it, looking like he had been waiting for a long time.

The gray coat was still the same one.

I walked over.

“Raina.”

“Mm.”

“I saw the exhibition. It was very good. I looked at that necklace for a long time.”

“Thank you.”

After a moment of silence, he was the first to speak again.

“Have you been well this year?”

“Pretty well. You?”

“Fine.”

I knew he was lying.

He had lost a lot of weight. His cheekbones stood out, and there was no light in his eyes.

But he had learned to wear ironed shirts.

His collar was crisp.

His cufflinks matched.

He finally remembered the things I had once wanted him to remember.

After I left.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Okay.”

He turned and walked a few steps.

I watched his back as the wind lifted the hem of his coat.

“Silas.”

He turned back.

I walked back and stood in front of him.

“One last touch.”

He froze.

Then he slowly held out his hand.

His fingers were trembling.

My fingertips touched his palm.

I closed my eyes.

His heartbeat pulsed beneath my fingertips.

He still loved me.

But that place was empty.

Not because Lyra occupied it.

Because I had chosen not to want it anymore.

He had emptied himself out.

But I had already left.

I opened my eyes.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing. Empty.”

I smiled a little.

I did not tell him the truth.

I saw his heart full of regret.

Every inch of it was covered with my name.

But he did not need to know.

He needed to learn to live with that empty room, the way I had once lived through the days of seeing two faces.

I withdrew my hand and turned to get into my car.

He stood where he was and watched my car drive out of the parking lot.

In the rearview mirror, he was still standing there, getting smaller and smaller, until he became a gray dot.

This time, he did not chase me.

Later, Nova told me Silas always wore the “First Meeting” necklace around his neck and never took it off.

At a gathering once, someone got drunk and asked him, “What does that necklace mean? You wear it every day and never take it off.”

He said, “Nothing. I just want to remember someone.”

Nova said he probably would never take another mate in this life.

I stood by the studio window.

Rows of streetlights had lit up downstairs.

Children were running through the neighborhood, their laughter drifting up.

“That’s his business now.”

The sunset disappeared completely.

I turned on the light.

In front of me lay next season’s design draft.

In the description field, I wrote one line:

[Daylight always comes. Even when you’re alone.]

I put down my pen and picked up my moonstone communicator.

His name was still lying in my blocked contacts.

I exited the contacts and placed the communicator facedown on the desk.

The screen went dark, reflecting my own face.

Only my own face.

Clear as ever.