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“How do I live with this much anger?” I said softly.

“You learn to lock it away,” Carlos said beside me.

I hadn’t even realized he’d stayed with me.

“It doesn’t ever leave, but the wall you build around it grows thicker with time, making it harder for you to reach the anger.”

“Why would I want to reach it?”

“Because it helps you remember.”

I turned to study Carlos.  His steady brown gaze held me.  He knew the pain that currently devoured me from the inside.  How could I have ever teased that he was a robot?  No one who felt this much ever could be.

“Will I ever feel happy again?”

“I hope so.”

I looked away and stared at Ethan.  Who was Isabelle without Ethan?  I had no idea.  I’d barely known myself when I’d still had Ethan.  A bleak, questionable future lay before me, and I didn’t want to face it without him.

I didn’t stay long.  I just needed to say goodbye and try to memorize his face one last time.  Then, I turned away.

They all faced me, a loose group of people I’d met only days ago.

“They will do a short service in an hour,” Charlene said.

I didn’t want to stay for that.  Ethan wouldn’t want me to, either.

“Did you arrange all of this?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Thank you.  Where will he be buried?”

“The local cemetery.”

“A headstone?”  When this was over, I wanted to be able to find him again.

“Of course.”

I nodded, then walked to the exit.

Ten

We pulled into the driveway.  While the rest got out of their cars and went toward the house, I got out and started walking toward the fields.  A void silently followed me.

I walked until I reached the center of the area then stopped.

All I wanted to do was cry.  I was the lonely kid back on the playground.  I needed to do what Carlos said, and I tried to lock away what I felt.  However, indifference was like trying to wear a toddler’s coat.  It didn’t fit me, and I doubted it ever would.  Yet, I continued to try to push away thoughts of Ethan.  Then, I realized I had very little else to think about.  I had no job, no friend, and a family barely coherent enough to remember my name.

How did a person pick up the pieces of who they were after being so thoroughly shattered?  I decided they didn’t.  They sweep the old pieces of who they were away, and they rebuild themselves into who they need to be.

Those creatures killed the nice girl in me when they killed Ethan.  These people, Bethi, Charlene, Michelle, Gabby, they needed me to be their fighter because, with the exception of Bethi, they couldn’t fight for themselves.  They would end up just like Ethan.

After several moments, Carlos came to stand beside me.

“Do you need to spar?” he asked softly.

“No.”

Whether I needed to or not didn’t matter.  I couldn’t spar.  Carlos still wore the bruises from facing me.  What if more of those other werewolves came right now?  Had I damaged Carlos like I had Ethan?  I pushed the scary thoughts away and looked out over the field.

“Just avoiding the pity party in the house.”

It was something I would have said before I’d lost everything.  But now, the words felt wrong.  No, I felt wrong.

Carlos seemed to notice, too, because he moved closer.

“Tell me what you need,” he said.

I closed my eyes against the pain.  What I needed was Ethan, but that wasn’t going to happen.  I needed to face reality.  But telling Carlos about either of those needs wouldn’t help them come true.

“I’m tired.”  I wasn’t.  I just wanted to go back to the house and shut myself into my room again.

“We can go back.  The rest will leave.”

“Where are they staying?” I asked to try to be polite.  I didn’t really care.

“A neighbor’s place not far from here.  Grey has been sleeping in the car.”

When I started walking, Carlos fell into step beside me.  Ahead, the house seemed a welcome sanctuary.  I wondered how much time Bethi had won me.

“How long are we staying here?”

“As long as you need.”

Forever.  But they wouldn’t allow that.  Pain and guilt came back with crushing force.

“I want to go back to bed.”

“Isabelle—”

“Don’t.”  I wasn’t sure what he’d been about to say, but I knew from his tone I wouldn’t have liked it.

He studied me while we walked.  Before we were halfway to the house, all but one vehicle pulled from the driveway.

“Why doesn’t he just go with them?” I asked as I watched Grey get into the back of the car.  I wanted to be isolated again.

“He’s here just in case.”

In case of another attack.  The heaviness in my chest wanted to consume me, and I focused on placing one foot before the other until everything else faded away.  At last, I reached the door to the house.  Mindlessly, I found the room I’d used and shut myself in.

Everything remained quiet and emotionless as I lay on the bed.  In time, I closed my eyes and dreamt of Ethan.

A hand on my arm woke me.  I opened my eyes and looked at Carlos.  He held a plate of food.

“I’m not hungry.”

He glanced at the plate.

“If you’re not hungry for this, I can take you—”

“No.  I don’t want to go anywhere.  I just want to be alone.”

“You need to eat.”

“Go away.”  I rolled away from him.

Several moments of silence had me thinking he’d listened.

“I can’t,” he said softly.

He lightly touched my hair then moved away from the bed.  After a moment, the door closed again.  I went back to sleep.

At some point during the night, a noise woke me.  I immediately breathed in, testing the emotions around me.  Nothing.  I lifted my head and spotted Carlos’ outline in the shadowed room.  He sat in a chair near the bed.

“What are you doing?”  I sounded angry and ready to fight, and it surprised me.

“Listening.”

“To what?”  It came out less harsh this time.

“To you crying in your sleep.  For him.  I can’t take your pain away.  I can’t make this better.  But I can share it.”

I laid my head back down and stared at his outline, not knowing what to think or how to feel about what he’d said.  It took a while to fall back to sleep.

When I woke, it was light out.  My head hurt from sleeping too much.  With a groan, I shuffled to the bathroom.  My eyes looked a little better.  Less red, more yellow.  I turned on the shower, and this time, I let it warm.  While I waited, I slowly peeled away the bandages from my side and the few that were on my thighs and arms.  The claw marks on my side were no worse than the rest.  Long, yet shallow and scabbed over.  Physically, my wounds would heal.  Eventually.  Unlike the rest of me.

I tossed the bandages in the garbage and stepped into the shower.  The hot spray felt good on the numerous bruises.  Standing there, feeling any form of relief from my physical pain added to my guilt.  The same thoughts kept repeating themselves.  Had I not sparred so intensely with Ethan, his shoulder wouldn’t have been bruised.  Without the injury, maybe he would have been fast enough to avoid dying.

The water washed away my tears as I scrubbed and rinsed.  It didn’t ease the pain I carried inside.  I was fairly certain I’d died with Ethan and my body just didn’t know it yet.

Once I dressed, I left my room; the bed no longer looked like the haven it had been.

Carlos was near the stove in the kitchen.  When I entered, he turned off the burner.  I moved to the table and stood just behind one of the chairs.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was so lost.