His mother used to be joyful, beautiful, and tender. She was the epitome of classic femininity, once resembling the most beautiful flower. She patiently and tirelessly taught him, advising him on how to confront the world’s hardships and injustices. In his childhood, she had warned him not to succumb to fate, and ironically, the person now appearing acerbic and cynical before him was the same woman. The death of her destined partner and the miscarriage of her second child had left her completely shattered. Now, she repeatedly emphasized that he should not live solely for himself, but for his mother, his kin, and the future of their community, even if it meant sacrificing himself, despite much of it contradicting his own desires. Though she preached about self-love and self-centered living, she was also the one who had always put herself first. Perhaps she had long forgotten that. Now he could only say, “I won’t like anyone until I find my destined partner.”
He lied, Patrick thought. His heart had already fallen for Emma’s tenderness; he liked Emma. He wanted to share every moment of his life with her, to let her know his joys and sorrows, to dine with her, picnic with her, and watch the sunset when the orange light spread across the sea. Patrick decided to visit Emma’s door, to see if he could say something to her, even if it was just a simple “good afternoon”. As he approached Emma’s door, he suddenly heard her stifled sobs. He couldn’t understand why she was in such anguish just minutes after their parting. He heard her cries escalate from soft sobs to hoarse wails, akin to the whimper of a wounded animal. His heart ached. He should knock and ask her what was wrong, hold her in his arms and comfort her, as she had held his hand for solace. But he couldn’t. Everything was happening too fast; it wouldn’t be proper for him to knock on her door now.
Leaning against her bedroom door, Patrick took a deep breath. This was too damn hard. He just wanted to hold her, to give her solace. He wanted to tell her that someone was watching over her, that she wasn’t completely alone here, and that he could move her room next to his if she wanted. Anything she desired, the stars in the sky, the jewels of the scepter, he would give it to her if she wished. Patrick wanted her to be a part of his life. But he couldn’t. Their relationship was only slightly better than strangers at the moment, Jennifer was still against her, and Emma herself wanted to leave the Silver Moon Pack. He had to conceal everything, his desires, his emotions, and the longing to kiss and embrace her every moment he saw her.
Her cries and tears pierced Patrick’s heart like knives; her pain felt like a fire scorching his soul. He wanted to take it all away, to make it stop. If possible, he would bear her sorrow and pain for her. Since he had discovered how well she resonated with his soul, every expression and action of Emma’s, even a frown or a sigh, caused his heart to ache. He wanted to tell Emma his true feelings, to tell her that he was willing to give her everything, as long as she would stay by his side, willing to listen to his trivial complaints and childish yearnings.
A million thoughts and scenes raced through Patrick’s mind, each more hopeful and painful than the last. He hoped she would know soon, but paradoxically, he wanted her to live burden-free. What if she didn’t like him, and had other choices? Patrick feared she would leave before she discovered who he truly was. The agony of waiting was palpable, a physical pain that seemed to grip Patrick’s entire body and soul. His heart raced, his palms sweated, and anxiety and fear churned in his stomach. Patrick took another deep breath and forced himself to leave.
If he didn’t, Patrick was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pushing the door open and telling Emma everything he felt right now. He rushed downstairs, wanting to leave the house, to go somewhere else to breathe in some fresh air.
Alone, Patrick walked to a park he used to frequent a long time ago, a park quite distant from the castle that he had accidentally stumbled upon one day. The park’s facilities were quite old, which was why not many people frequented it, and he liked that about the place. But today, as he looked around, he remembered what Emma had said. If given the chance, he should include plans to renovate this park in the schedule; there was no need to let this place go to waste. If the park remained neglected for too long, it would become eerie, filled with the loneliness and resentment of being abandoned.
A decade ago, there used to be greenery and a small sportsfield here, where children could practice volleyball or throw a football around. Back then, Harry and he hadn’t fallen out yet; they had been best friends. Patrick wasn’t the alpha of the pack, and Harry wasn’t an exclusive beta. They used to play here together, getting themselves all dirty before finally agreeing to go home.
Back then, Jennifer wouldn’t scold him for being playful. She would look at him with gentle eyes and come over to wipe his face with a towel before allowing others to take him to bathe. But now, after ten years, his best friend had severed their mind link, his beloved father had died in battle, and his once doting mother had become an entirely different person.
Unconsciously, he found himself at the very spot where he and Harry used to play. It had been a long time since anyone had come here; thick layers of fallen leaves covered the ground. He gazed at the area with nostalgia. Suddenly, he felt he wasn’t alone.
“Harry?” Patrick exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Wearing a stern expression, Harry turned to leave, but Patrick quickly called out to him, “It has been so long. Don’t you want to say something to me?”
Stone-faced, Harry replied, “I have nothing to say to you.”
Patrick had anticipated his coldness, yet it still pained him. He had never experienced such treatment from anyone else in his life. Only Harry could be so merciless towards him.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a tinge of desolation in his voice. “I shouldn’t have stopped you. We truly aren’t friends anymore.”
Harry had intended to leave immediately, but he was taken aback by the unfamiliar vulnerability he saw in Patrick. Patrick had never shown such fragility and helplessness before.
He tentatively asked, “Are you okay?”