Alpha Rolan’s POV
I sat on the edge of the bed, still reeling from what Pandora had told me last night. Wilson had been holed up in his room, crying alone, too broken by grief to even reach out.
It didn’t add up because I spoke to him yesterday morning. He’d told me he was away on a business trip, apologized for missing the party, and promised to catch up soon.
His voice had sounded steady, calm even. But Pandora’s words had painted a different picture, one of a man completely unraveling behind closed doors.
Pandora had been worried, her eyes wide with concern as she shared what Kiara had told her. Kiara had been sitting on this secret for weeks, listening to him cry himself to sleep, unable to break through the wall he’d built around himself since his mother’s death.
“We’ll take care of it,” I had told Pandora, holding her hands in mine. She’d nodded, trusting me to find a way to help Wilson, even when I wasn’t sure what to do myself.
I got into my car and drove over to Caleb’s place. Caleb had always been close to Wilson, the three of us brothers in everything but blood. If anyone could help, it would be him.
When I pulled up to Caleb’s house, the sky was barely starting to lighten. He answered the door still half-asleep, rubbing his eyes and squinting at me. “Alpha? What are you doing here at this hour?”
“We need to talk,” I said, stepping inside.
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, following me into the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Wilson,” I said, sitting down at the table. “Pandora talked to Kiara last night. Turns out he’s been lying to us. He’s not on any business trip, he’s been locked up in his room, crying ever since his mom died. Kiara’s been worried sick, but Wilson made her swear not to tell anyone.”
Caleb’s face tightened, his usual easy going demeanor vanishing as the weight of my words sank in. “He’s been… what?”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “She said he cries all night. He’s completely isolated himself.”
Caleb shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Damn… I had no idea it was that bad.”
“Neither did I,” I said quietly. “But we’re going over there now.”
Caleb stared at me for a moment before nodding, determination settling in his features. “Let’s go.”
The drive to Wilson’s house was quiet, the two of us lost in our thoughts. The sky had just started to shift from dark to light as we pulled up to his place. The air was crisp, the world still in that quiet lull before the day fully began.
When we reached the door, I wasn’t surprised to find Kiara there, curled up on the floor just outside Wilson’s room. Her face was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes, she looked exhausted.
She must have slept here, waiting for something to change. Her eyes widened when she saw us, but Caleb held a finger to his lips, motioning for her to keep quiet. She nodded, sitting up as we approached the door.
I knocked softly, hoping not to startle Wilson. “Wilson, it’s me,” I called out. “Open the door, man. We need to talk.”
There was a long pause before I heard his voice, muffled and strained. “Go away, Rolan. I’m fine. I just need some time.”
“We’re not leaving, Wilson,” I said firmly. “You’ve been in there long enough. We’re your friends, we’re not going to let you do this alone.”
“I don’t need your help,” Wilson’s voice cracked, and I could hear the pain in it, the raw grief he was trying to hide. “Just… go. Please.”
I was about to say something else when Caleb stepped forward without a word. With one swift move, he kicked the door in. The wood splintered under the force of his boot, the door swinging open with a loud crash.
Wilson sat on the floor, his eyes wide in shock, staring at us in disbelief. He was pale, his face drawn, his eyes red from too many sleepless nights.
His room was a mess, clothes, and papers strewn everywhere, the curtains drawn tight, casting the room in a dim, suffocating light.
Caleb and I stepped inside, and I shrugged at Wilson’s stunned expression. “We knocked.”
Wilson blinked, still speechless as Caleb walked over and crouched beside him. “We’re not here to tell you how to grieve, man,” Caleb said quietly, his tone gentler than I expected. “We’ve both lost people too. We get it.”
I reached into my jacket and pulled out a bottle of rum. Setting it on the floor between us, I gave Wilson a small, knowing smile. “We’re here to join you.”
Caleb pulled out three glasses from a bag he’d brought along, setting them down next to the rum. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain anything. But you’re not drinking alone anymore.”
Wilson stared at us, his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know what to say. His shoulders sagged, the tension in his body slowly unraveling as the shock wore off.
He shook his head, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You two are insane,” he muttered, but there was no bite in his words, just exhaustion, and something that sounded like relief.
“We know,” I agreed, popping the cap off the rum and pouring three generous glasses. I handed one to Caleb and one to Wilson, who hesitated before taking it.
For a moment, the three of us sat there in silence, the weight of the room pressing down on us. I could still hear the faint sound of Wilson’s breathing, uneven and ragged, as he tried to pull himself together.
Wilson’s hand trembled as he raised his glass, his eyes filling with tears. He took a deep breath and nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “To Mom.”
We clink our glasses together, the sound quiet but solid, like an unspoken promise between the three of us. I took a long drink, the burn of the rum steadying me, grounding me in this moment.
I looked over at Wilson, watching as he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. He knew we were here for him, that we weren’t going to leave him to drown in this alone.
We had been through too much together to let that happen.