Chapter 4

Emerson Goodman POV:

As April and Dexter walked out of my life, I sent one last, desperate text.

Go home, April. Take Dex. I' ll be there tonight. We' ll fix this.

I didn' t know it was the last message I would ever send her. I didn' t know she was already gone.

She replied almost instantly. Goodbye, Emerson. I wish you and your new family all the best.

The words were a punch to the gut. A cold, final dismissal. I felt a surge of panic, a primal fear I hadn' t felt in years. I tried to call her. The line went straight to a disconnected tone. Again. And again. The same flat, dead sound.

My heart began to pound against my ribs like a trapped bird. She wouldn' t. She couldn' t just leave.

"Emerson, darling." Chloe' s voice was a grating whine beside me. "The officiant is waiting. We need to exchange the commitment rings."

She held out the box containing my family' s ancestral ring. The one I had given to April. The one Chloe had pried from her hand. Looking at it now, on Chloe' s finger, felt like sacrilege.

Something inside me snapped. I snatched the ring from her hand and threw it to the ground. It clattered across the marble floor, a hollow, mocking sound.

"The ceremony is off," I snarled, pushing past her, past my mother' s sputtering protests.

"You can' t leave!" my mother shrieked. "Think of the merger! Think of our family!"

But all I could think of was April' s empty eyes and Dexter calling me "sir."

Guards blocked the doorway. "My apologies, Mr. Goodman, but your mother has given explicit orders that the ceremony must be completed."

Rage, hot and blinding, consumed me. I let the wolf out. Not all the way, just enough. My muscles bunched, my senses sharpened, a low growl rumbling in my chest. The guards, human and weak, shrank back in terror. I burst through the doors and into the night, running.

I ran, the manicured lawns of the estate blurring beneath my feet. My mind raced, flashing back to another night, seven years ago, when I had run just like this, away from my family, away from a life I didn' t want. I had run to her.

I remembered finding her in the snow, her body so fragile in my arms. I remembered her warmth as she huddled against me by the fire in my cabin, the first woman who had ever made me feel... whole.

"I' ll never leave you, Emerson," she had whispered.

She wouldn' t. She was just angry. She had a right to be. I' d let my mother and Chloe humiliate her. But she wouldn' t leave me. Where would she go? She had no one, nothing. She needed me.

A bitter, arrogant thought surfaced. I' d let her fume for a day or two, then I' d go to her, shower her with apologies and gifts, and she would melt back into my arms. She always did.

My pace quickened, desperation clawing at my throat. The lights of our small house appeared through the trees, a welcoming beacon in the darkness. Smoke curled from the chimney.

Relief washed over me, so potent it made my knees weak. She was home. She was waiting for me.

I slowed to a walk, smoothing my hair, composing my features into a mask of stern disappointment. I would be firm this time. She couldn' t just threaten to leave every time things got difficult. She needed to learn.

I kicked open the door, my grand entrance prepared, the scolding words already on my lips. I expected to see her rushing into my arms, tears in her eyes.

Instead, I saw a strange man sitting on my sofa, watching my television, a little girl who was not my son coloring on my floor.

They stared at me, startled. "Can I help you?" the man asked, his tone wary.

The air left my lungs. The world tilted on its axis. "Where is she?" I demanded, my voice a raw, desperate croak. "Where is April? Where is my son?"

The man exchanged a nervous glance with his wife, who had emerged from the kitchen. "I... I don' t know any April," he stammered. "We just moved in today. The landlord said the previous tenant left in a hurry. A single mom and her kid, I think. She said they were... homeless."

Homeless. The word echoed in the cavernous space where my heart used to be. My April. My Dexter. Out on the streets. Because of me.

My legs gave out from under me, and I crashed to my knees on the cold, unforgiving pavement of the driveway.

She was gone. She was really gone.

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