A/N: Wow a longer Vince chapter, what is this? LOL. Anyways hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 32

Vince's POV

Chase excused me from our therapy session early, insisting he had other things to discuss with Simon. The look on Chase's face as I left sent a clear message, don't fuck up. Ya, if it was only that easy, I thought. There was still that looming question of why Simon seemed so willing to go through with this, and how exactly we could coexist together, especially in the same room.

Either he was just that dumb enough to believe things would work out between us, or he had an ulterior motive. My bet was on the latter, but it still didn't make any sense. What could he possibly gain by being close to someone who basically ruined his life?

But what Chase said did make some sense, even if it had sounded outrageous. I hated to admit, but these pills were taking a toll on my physical strength, including those migraines and painful shifts. Getting off of them would in theory help, but just the thought of its repercussions was terrifying.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't want my wolf to die, I know what that would imply, and Chase's warnings couldn't hold any more truth. But to hear my wolf's incessant yapping, to hear him yell and complain to me about what I've done, I didn't want any part of that. I had already dealt with it when I first found out about Simon, and when I dueled with Michael. I didn't need another person to remind me of the wrongs I caused.

But what I feared most was how being off these pills would change me. I was so used to not feeling anything, not caring about anything. I needed to be stern, fearless, and unfazed if I was to be alpha. I don't have time to let pesky feelings and emotions get to me. I couldn't be an emotional bitch like Michael had been with David, that wasn't how alphas were supposed to act. That wasn't what our father wanted.

And if that's what being off those pills felt like, I didn't want any part in it.

---

Before I could even make it up to the stair landing, there was Sarah, with her hands on her hips as she sent a glare from the top of the stairs. Lately, she always wore that judgmental look when she looked at me. It wasn't completely a new look, but it hurt to see it directed at me after all those years. Usually, she'd glare like that at the older stuck-up council members, especially those that opposed more progressive and extensive protocols we wanted to implement. Now, she didn't even smile at me.

"Sarah," I greeted with a half-smile.

She pointed her thumb toward the conference room. "We need to talk."

I scoffed. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."

"Just get your ass in there, now," she sneered. I brushed past her shoulder which earned a sharp slap on the shoulder from her as I walked in, leaning against the edge of the table with my arms crossed.

"Make it quick," I joked. "Wouldn't want your boyfriend to find out."

She bit her bottom lip, holding in an insult most likely. "I cared about you, Vince. I really did."

"But," she continued. "I don't think you ever cared about me. About anyone, really."

I frowned. "I do."

"Ya, yourself," she scoffed. "And now, I can truly see how self-centered you can be. And I can't let you pull the same shit again. Not on Simon. He doesn't deserve that bullshit."

"The lying, the cheating," she rambled on. "The pathetic excuses for your behavior. He deserves better than what you gave me."

"Sarah-"

"No. He may think you could change, but I know you. You string people along, let them believe a side of yourself before tearing them apart. So unless you plan on giving it your all, and actually appreciate your mate for once in your life, don't string him along. You've hurt him enough."

I rolled my eyes. "You think it's a terrible idea too."

She sighed. "I don't think I could ever forgive you for what you did to me. And knowing what you did to him makes me question his sanity, but, I can commend him for wanting to see past your flaws, to understand you. Because at some point I wanted to too. But it's a two-way street, you have to try to understand him too, Vince. He deserves that much. Try to understand his pain, the things he's gone through. I mean, haven't you had someone you loved hurt you? Betray you?"

I uncrossed my arms, thinking about what happened with David, how dad had seemed to go berserk on him and Michael. How every night he'd warn me what would happen if I turned out like them, instead of the typical bedtime story or ruffle of the hair. It had hurt to see him turn so aggressive so quickly.

Then I thought of how Sarah had walked out when she found out the truth about Simon leaving, that Simon and his family weren't actually traitors. And as much as she disagreed, I did care about her, maybe even considered it love at some point, and it did hurt. She had been there the whole time, a constant, and the next second she was out of my life. Did I feel betrayed? Or did I perhaps assume it would've happened?

But there was one moment that I vowed to never talk about with anyone, not even Sarah knew about it. The scariest moment of my life, one that had surpassed the night dad found out about David. It was terrifying, and probably the only thing I could really think of when Sarah mentioned betrayal.

Xavier had always been clingy as a child, looking up to the both of us, wanting to be a part of everything we did. And when Michael and David had been disowned by our father, Xavier drifted apart too. He didn't hang out with me or Michael, often hanging out with the kids his age. And he only drifted further apart from me after Simon left, insisting he needed to find his mate. I had alpha duties and he was always busy with the betas. But it never occurred to me how focused he was on finding his mate.

And the day he turned eighteen left me petrified. We never talked about our feelings, emotions, or anything really, so when I had found him that morning in the bathroom, I didn't know what to think. A part of me didn't believe it at first, maybe he had just fallen asleep with a razor after shaving. Maybe he'd fainted after overworking himself again.

And then I saw the blood underneath him.

I remember asking why, demanding what possessed him to do something that stupid. And when he told me some sob story about his mate, I wondered how he could possibly think this would've done anything.

And in a way, I did feel betrayed.

I remembered feeling so hurt after, knowing that he'd rather do something like that than to come to his own brother. Even though we hadn't been close, it hurt to know that he didn't want to come to me for help like he had all those years ago.

And when I kept asking, pushing for answers, he pretended it never happened.

Clenching my jaw at the memory, I looked at her firmly. "Yes."

"That's what he felt every day," she frowned. "For sixteen years, Vince."

There was an unsettling silence in the air, us staring at each other as her words hung in the air. Sixteen years was a long time to feel like that, and sometimes I forgot how long it had been since Simon was here.

"Whether or not you want to make this work, be honest with yourself first, Vince." She finally spoke in a softer tone. "Be true to yourself for once in your life, and figure out what you want. Don't just do something because your dad wanted it, or Michael, or anyone else but yourself."

Because that was totally easy. My whole life felt like I was just trying to please someone.

"I'll try to," I said finally. It wasn't assuring but she took it, seeming to relax a bit since we first stepped in the room.

"Good. As much as I hate what you did, I still want you to be happy, Vince. And Simon deserves happiness too. I hope you'll see that."

She patted my shoulder before heading toward the doors.

"Wait," I stopped her, the words she said lingering in my head. She tilted her head like she always did when she was confused. "How...how is he? Your mate?"

She blinked before a soft smile spread across her face. "He's good to me. He makes me happy."

I sucked in a breath. "That's good. I'm uh-happy for you."

She smiled fully then, something I hadn't seen for quite some time.

----

I had been dreading the knock on my door for hours, not expecting it to have come this late. Xavier had poked his head in, looking less than pleased to be here. He stepped in first, holding the door open for Simon, to which he didn't immediately walk in. He had stopped in the doorway, looking down at the floor before eyeing up the doorframe as if there was some invisible force preventing him from stepping inside.

Xavier finally coaxed him inside, before setting one of the bags on the side. Simon had a duffle, and a backpack, along with a sweater he held in his hand.

"I'm not sure how long you're staying here, but I can have someone bring the rest of your stuff up," I said to him, gesturing to the three bags. I avoided looking directly at his face, even though I was sure he was doing the same too.

"Uhm," he mumbled. "That's everything."

Oh.

Xavier was cursing me through the link, but I was still processing the fact that this was all he had.

"Where did you want me to put my stuff?" He asked, looking around the room.

"Anywhere," I said, glancing at Xavier who was still frowning at me disapprovingly.

I don't like this. He could've stayed at my place.

I glanced at him. Look, this wasn't my idea. I don't like it either.

Simon placed his bags near the L-shaped couch, next to the TV, sitting next to his things while he gingerly opened the bags, looking for something.

This isn't healthy for him, Xavier responded.

Yeah, well tell that to him, he agreed to this. Xavier looked at me incredulously, then at Simon who had pulled out a toiletry bag, glancing at the bathroom before simply setting it down on his duffel bag, almost defeatedly. I watched as he nervously played with one of the zippers, tapping the bag with his other hand steadily like a metronome. After a few seconds, Xavier walked over to him, sitting beside him, placing his hand on his shoulder. He whispered something lowly to Simon, to which he nodded. After a few more nods, Xavier stood up, staring me down harshly.

Give him space. And time. I don't understand what he's thinking, but please be patient.

I glared back at him. How am I supposed to give him space, when we're sharing the same bedroom?

He rolled his eyes, before sparing Simon one last glance. He seemed hesitant to walk out, letting out a big sigh before stepping out, closing the bedroom door softly.

And with that, an uncomfortable silence filled the air. I stared at the closed door for a bit, unsure if I should even look towards Simon's direction.

I walked over to the edge of the bed to sit, glancing out of the corner of my eye to see what he was up too. Only to be amused at the fact that he was still sitting on the ground, clutching the duffel bag and poking at the toiletry bag. How this timid person willingly agreed to sleep here was beyond me.

I cleared my throat, before pointing at the bathroom. "Bathroom's in there. It's getting late, so I'm going to head to bed soon. The remote's on the coffee table if you need it."

He didn't move from his spot, didn't even turn his head toward my direction, something I should have expected. I continued, "Extra blankets and pillows in the closet."

"Thanks," I heard him barely say. He slowly stood up, his grip on the small bag unrelenting as he walked strangely to the bathroom as if trying to make the least possible noise despite walking on the rug.

I stared at the bathroom door he closed ever so quietly, wondering how Simon was going to tiptoe around me like this the whole time. I doubt he would ever relax around me.

It was already a quarter till midnight, so I stripped down to my boxers then decided it was probably best to keep a shirt on. Then again, Simon probably wouldn't care, he'd probably stare at the wall the whole night anyway.

I could hear the shower turn on finally, and I awkwardly stared at the wall, wondering what the hell I should be doing. Watch TV? Go on my phone? Sleep? I tapped my finger impatiently on my phone case, then glanced over at his belongings. I wasn't sure why it was so surprising that he had so little stuff, but it still caught me off guard. The jacket that was draped over the backpack looked so worn out too, a few loose threads dangling near the bottom. Even the duffle bag looked scuffed up and dragged through the mud at some point. His phone was left on the duffle, an older model, bulkier than most phones these days.

I could see a message flashing on the screen, then another. From my bed, I couldn't read it, and it was probably best I didn't. Sarah had ripped me a new one once when I had opened her phone before.

Then the shower was turned off, and I mildly panicked, quickly jumping under the covers, deciding it'd probably be best to pretend I'm ready to sleep and not discuss anything.

I pretended to be on my phone, watching curiously as to what he'd do next. I opened and closed the mail app about ten times before he stepped out, fully clothed in a simple white tee and black sweats. He quickly tiptoed back over to his bags, tucking away his things before picking up his phone and staring at the messages. He frowned before setting it aside, then stared at the edge of the couch before gingerly sitting at the very edge. I nearly laughed, wondering how the hell someone could be that skittish to sit on a couch.

I continued to stare at my phone, my eyes crossing out of focus as I wondered what his next move would be. Would he dare to stay in the same bed? Sleep upright like that? Or if I made a sudden movement, would he bolt out of here and call it quits?

"Umm." He cleared his throat. "Where are the pillows and blanket?"

I blinked my eyes back into focus, turning slightly, to see he was still sitting on the edge. I stood up slowly, walking over to the closet. Pulling out two of each, I turned around, only to be frightened to see him standing right behind me.

"Oh geez," I muttered, before handing him the pillows and blanket. He took it from my hands, not looking up of course, before walking back to the couch.

"I'll just sleep here then," he said, placing the pillow down.

Confused as to what just happened, I just mumbled "sure," before heading back into my sheets.

An awkward silence occurred as I laid there motionless, wondering if I should say something or just go to sleep. After a few more moments, I turned off my lamp, laying there with my phone in my hands. Simon didn't move, still sitting awkwardly on the couch, staring at blank TV as if lost in thought.

Eventually, Simon turned off the lamp near him. I almost wanted to laugh at how stupid this silence filled the air. It was so painfully awkward.

So I really tried to focus on falling asleep, despite how impossible it seemed at this point.

And then, just as I thought I was getting tired enough, I could hear the unsteady breaths escaping Simon. In the dead silence, it seemed to amplify. I could tell it wasn't just him breathing through his mouth as he slept. It was one of those shaky breaths you make when you're trying not to cry. One, you're so painfully aware of how your lungs are expanding and contracting, where the usual pace goes awry, and you're caught in a weird limbo of wondering how you can make it work on its own without consciously thinking about each breath.

"You can't sleep," I said in the dark.

I meant it as a statement, but Simon replied with a hum, followed by a soft sniffle. Oh, great. Not even an hour in, and he's already crying.

Holding back a sarcastic remark, I pulled back the comforter a bit to sit up. I bit my lip before telling him, "I'll sleep in the office."

I could hear him shift up into a sitting position. "No, it's okay. I'll go to sleep eventually."

I grabbed my phone and a pillow, before standing up. "I'll be in the office," I told him sternly, heading to the bedroom door. Trying to convince myself to just keep walking was a challenge, knowing the pathetic cot in the office was a killer on the back. But hell, if I was going to try like everyone wanted, then wasn't it better I give him space.

And sure enough, there was this god-awful kink in my neck and lower back that stretching could not fix in the morning. I should've invested in a better cot, even a twin-sized bed would've been better.

I only slept about half of the night, tossing and turning from how uncomfortable the cot was. I had finally given up around five in the morning, wondering if the floor would've been a better option.

I yawned for probably the twelfth time, checking my emails and messages before deciding I should just start my day already.

Walking back to my room, I tried to tiptoe as quietly as Simon had last night, peeking to see that he was still asleep. The blanket had fallen to the floor, the pillow dangling off the edge while his hand had fallen loosely to the floor.

Walking over to my dresser, I slowly opened the drawer, grabbing a random shirt and pair of pants, before heading to the bathroom to wash up. A part of me didn't want to startle him awake and have him completely freak out at being in the same room, in case yesterday's agreement was a fluke and he realized how dumb it was. But a part of me wondered if it would actually be better, for him to go his own way, and I stick to the plan of just beating Michael in a duel to become alpha again; none of this mate shit.

Getting washed up took a little longer while trying to remain quiet, but I was pleased to see that he was still out like a light, not moving an inch from when I first saw him.

Stepping closer, to make sure he was asleep, I noticed he was trembling slightly. The room didn't feel cold, but he was shivering nonetheless. Without thinking, I swiftly picked up the blanket. Hesitant, I draped it over him, before walking out quickly, hoping he wouldn't wake and wonder what the hell I was doing. Hell, what the hell was I even doing?

I tried not to dwell on it, instead, heading off to make my rounds at the RCPP.