A/N: i know it's late, don't kill me, LOL. (Blame the discord server) But it's here. Ehhh, i'm not proud of this chapter, but next chapter will be major angst-town, hope you're ready. Comment, vote, follow, etc., and Enjoy! I'm going to hibernate now since I stayed up way too late to finish this. I'll try to get the next one up soon :) Love yall <3

Chapter 52

Song: Golden by Riley Baron [I actually envisioned Vince seeing Simon at the orphanage with this song]

Vince's POV

Tell him, my wolf pleaded, pacing back and forth with a whine. Tell him it was you.

No, I told him, as Simon leaned against the wall, his eyes still closed, afraid of looking at me. Afraid of me. He wouldn't want it to be me.

No, he argued. Tell him it was you. Please.

I gritted my teeth, hands balled up in fists at my side. Of course, I had wanted to tell him the truth, to tell him that I had wanted to see what it was like, to try. But he was petrified. He wouldn't possibly understand, couldn't have wanted that from me. It would've been better if he thought it was my wolf.

After all, Michael was right, I had trouble controlling my wolf. I'd do things on whims because of him. Got us into more trouble than I could remember.

But not this time, he snapped. That was you, all you. Tell him.

No. Goddess, if only there had been a time machine. I could've refrained from kissing him, maybe even go all the way back to the beginning again. Redo it all until it was perfect.

"Vince?" Simon finally asked again, his eyes still shut.

"I'm sorry," I muttered finally, afraid to look at him not. "Did-did my wolf hurt you?"

My wolf snarled at me, you idiot, before ignoring me altogether, disappearing.

"Oh, no. He didn't," he responded with a frown. I couldn't look him in the eyes, but he pushed away from the wall before rubbing at his arm nervously. "It's fine. Nothing happened."

He smiled softly, but it was nowhere near like the one from earlier. I wasn't even sure you could call it a smile compared to this morning. In the softest, almost too faint to hear, he breathed, "of course it was."

He didn't have to elaborate for me to understand that I had fucked it up further. My breath hitched, as he walked past me, our shoulders just barely grazing each other. I wanted to stop him, reach out, and pull him back. Tell him that I had lied, yet again, and that it was me. That it had been me, not my wolf this time. That I had wanted to know what it felt like. That I had felt something different between us. That I had just been scared, yet again. But it was too late. I was always too late.

---

I hadn't seen Simon after what I did yesterday. I had stayed in the office, failing to write the letter and work on the stack of paperwork on the rogues through the night. My mind was reeling from the memory of yesterday, so much that I probably only had maybe a couple of hours of sleep. I don't even remember if I had eaten anything. Surely, I must have eaten something, right? Had I really skipped that many meals?

Maybe I should take a break, shit, what time was it? Leaving the mess of papers everywhere, I decided to look for my stash of granola bars I kept in my room. That would hold me over I guess.

I peeked into the room, glad he hadn't been in there. I wasn't sure what I could even say to make it less awkward between us if he had been in the room. Sorry, I randomly kissed you? Sorry I was a shit mate and did something so shitty?

Knowing me, we could clear the air between us then I'd make it ten times worse the next day.

I rummaged through the bedside drawer for some food before heading to the closet to grab another blanket. One of the maids had gone to wash the one I used last night, and I was sure that I'd spend another night, or a couple in the office. I grabbed an extra pillow too for good measure when something caught my eye.

Father's chest. I had nearly forgotten about it. It kept most of his valuables, some clothes, and his murder case. Usually, case files were kept in the basement, but we had stored it here, safer and away from others under lock and key. I hadn't touched it since then, didn't even feel the need to, after what had happened. I had stuffed it under the clothes, even covered it with a trash bag once because I hated the sight of it.

I wasn't sure what compelled me, but I was curious. About his case file, about the ring Michael brought up. Had there been more to it than we originally thought?

I stuffed the rest of the granola bar down my throat before scrambling to find the key. I checked the nightstand, but I wasn't sure exactly where I put it. I opened nearly every drawer in my room when I finally found it in the top mini drawer near the entertainment center.

Heading back to the chest, I inserted the key before pushing the lid back, an eerie screech emanating from the old hinges. Sure enough, there were a couple of articles of clothes, some knick-knacks, family heirlooms, etc. I moved some of it around when I found the case files in it's sealed box.

I pulled it out, setting it down in front of me. I opened it up, looking at the report. It was a thick stack of papers, filled with photos of the crime and his body that I didn't want to remember. I glanced at it before putting it on the side, knowing I probably should revisit it. Going into the chest some more, I found some family photos, one with all of us, Xavier just a baby in one of them. Then I heard a small thud, I moved some of the stuff before I looked at the bottom of the chest to spot something shiny.

A ring. Father's ring.

No. My heart dropped. No, why would it be here? Why would his ring be here, it couldn't possibly have been here before, could it?

You always had a hard time controlling your wolf, remembering Michael's words made my heart skip a beat. There was no way, right? But if it really had been here the whole time, who else could it have been? Nobody else had the key to his chest, so it must've-

Oh, goddess. It had been me all along, hadn't it? Was it really me who killed him? No, but if that had been true, then everything, everything that happened after really was my fault, wasn't it? From mother losing it, to Xavier's mate, to blaming Simon and his family. The whole reason the council had gone on that manhunt was me all along.

I felt nauseous, my legs feeling like jelly from this revelation. No, I couldn't have. I would have known, right? Even as drunk as I was during my birthday, I had remembered that night. I would've remembered something from then, right?

No, this couldn't be happening. I couldn't breathe, the ring feeling like a hot iron in my hands. I threw it back in the chest, stumbling to my feet before leaning against the wall, not even sure what I would do with this information. I couldn't let anyone know about this, the council would tear me apart. It didn't matter how long ago if they found out, there'd be no telling how severe the punishment they'd dished out would be.

I wanted to scream, to punch something, anything to get this feeling off my chest. It was suffocating like I was drowning in an endless vat of nothingness.

But then there was Simon. No matter what I did, what I had done, he seemed to try and look past it. It was foolish, something I never understood about him. It would've been easier for him to leave and live without all this bull shit. But he was here, still here.

And I wanted that. I wanted him to stay, to look at me like he did at his home and tell me everything would be fine. That he'd save me from the drowning sensation I was feeling. That he wouldn't look at me the way others did, with scorn or hate.

I had finally got my breathing under control when I felt my phone buzz. I blinked a few times, wondering what the hell kind of message Xavier was telling me.

Simon's being attacked. Save him.

What the fuck? Quickly dialing his number, I could feel the anxiety rising again. Still stressing about that ring, I couldn't take any more of this shit. What the fuck was he thinking? If he knew such a thing why couldn't he help him? Why bother to text me such nonsense? But if he really was in trouble, where was he? Why couldn't I tell where he was? I should've been there with him. And if it was Michael-

"Hello?" Came Xavier's voice.

"What the fuck?"

"What?" Xavier sounded confused. "Did you get my message?"

"What the fuck Xavier, where is he?"

There was a pause, then a strained laugh. "Oh. You didn't get the picture, did you? Open the picture."

"What kind of sick fucking joke is this-"

"Just look at the picture, Vince. Goddess."

I growled, before checking my messages, a wave of relief but also the desire to punch him through the phone washed over me. This fucking idiot. He sent a selfie of himself with Simon in the background at the orphanage. One where the kids seemed to try and climb over him. He was smiling at Xavier's camera, as one of the kids held on to the top of his head as he rode his shoulders.

"Fucking hell," I told him. Xavier was cackling in the background before saying something softly to one of the kids in the background most likely. "You idiot."

I nearly hung up, when Xavier interrupted. "Wait-don't go. Come visit us. At the orphanage. The kids are adorable, and I think Simon would really appreciate it, instead of locking yourself up in the office."

I was still mad that he gave me a damn heart attack, but it wasn't like I wanted to spend my entire day in the office. But after what happened yesterday, I wasn't sure if he'd really want me to be there. I mean he looked so happy in the photo, I'd probably just ruin the mood. Especially with all those kids to remind him of his siblings with me there, it was just a disaster waiting to happen.

But I wanted to try, damn it. I wanted to act like things were fine, enjoy it despite it all, and see that smile in person, not just through a blurry selfie. I wanted to be there the way he had been there for me.

So with whatever little courage I had in me, I headed downstairs, trying to forget about the ring, father's case, and that damn letter. They could wait for now.

I had never been inside the orphanage. I had stopped by outside before to wait for my mother a couple of times after her visits when I was younger, but I never really considered myself as a kid-friendly person. I didn't enjoy them, they were fussy, needy, and a handful. But that wasn't the case for Simon, he adored them, just like his siblings.

And me here?

Even though Xavier said he wanted me here, was it truly for the best? These kids were his siblings' age. Wouldn't this trigger those memories again? Wouldn't this be painful, just as painful as his childhood home?

Through the window I could see him there, surrounded by the little kids, the air filled with laughter, small talk, and giggles. Xavier was running around with a little girl on his shoulders as some of the pups chased him around the room, while Simon was surrounded by about fifteen of them showing them a book with fruits and veggies on it.

It sounded so happy and normal there. But our situation was anything but. I wanted to laugh at how ironic it all was.

I had been standing outside awkwardly for a decent amount of time as a couple of the kids seemed to have spotted me, staring inquisitively at me through the window. I had just about moved out of sight when Simon had turned, Xavier looking this way too. Just my luck, the two waved frantically as if trying to flag a taxi. Such dorks.

The kids gravitated with them as they approached the door to greet me, one of the kids attached to Simon's leg, while one of the girls was being carried by Xavier.

"Hey," Simon said breathlessly, the little boy attached to him cowering behind his leg. It was a simple greeting but it sent my mind spiraling again. With the thought of the letter, the thought of that ring, and the thought of yesterday's conversation.

He had told me that he'd accept whatever answer I had, but was that really true? Now that the ring had been found, and with what it meant? If I told him about the ring, told him that it was me who started this whole mess, started the whole manhunt for my father's murderer like a hypocrite, would he really see past that?

He said he could see that I was trying, but what if he realized it wasn't enough for him? That it would all be in vain? That we could try and try and try, only for it go awry?

And even if he did hear me out, accept whatever excuse I come up with, there was no way I could make him that happy, was there? Despite the smile I saw yesterday, there had to have been a trace of sadness there. I couldn't make him happy like those kids could, like Xavier could, or anyone else in his life.

Just watching him, as the little boy wrapped around his leg like that. The other kids looked up at him, and he honestly seemed so comfortable here. It just felt wrong. Wrong for me to be in this place, to intrude like this. It didn't matter if he said he wanted me here or not, I would always be that storm cloud hovering around him.

No, I can't make him happy. I knew that, and it was alarmingly so, now that I had seen his smile this close. I can't make him smile like that. Every time I had been with him, it was laced with a trace of pain, sadness, even possibly regret.

"You look better when you're not frowning like that, you know," Simon smiled softly, placing a gentle hand along my jaw, successfully shocking me from my thoughts. "You look better when you're smiling."

"R-really?"

He hummed, before smiling softly, his hand trailing away from my face before wrapping around my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. Like he hadn't given two shits about what happened yesterday, or about any of it. It was like before the kiss, back in his kitchen where I was freaking out about how calm he was. He tilted his head in the kid's direction. "Come join us?"

"I-Uh-"

"Come on." He patted my arm, before making a pouty face. "It'll be fun."

No, it wouldn't. Not with me here.

"I-I should be working on those files," I stammered, not missing how his expression dropped yet again. He flashed the smallest of frowns before letting out a nervous laugh. It had been such a small frown, but it still made me wish there had been a time machine.

"Again?"

"You don't have to stay up."

"Sure," he replied. He pursed his lips to force a smile before jeering a finger at the kids. "I should probably help them get ready for their nap. I'll see you later, I hope."

---

I had been so engrossed in writing that damn letter after I left the orphanage, trying to get the right words out, that I hadn't even heard Simon walk in. As the door shut, I jerked up, scrambling to get the papers away from sight, but he looked at me curiously. There wasn't time to hide them all, but even as he neared, I couldn't help but try to at least hide whatever I could.

"Vince?"

"Hey," I breathed. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

He tilted his head before looking at the mess of papers. I bit my bottom lip hoping that he'd just ignore it. "Um, it's getting late, shouldn't you..."

He trailed off as one of the draft letters caught his eye. Under my breath, I cursed.

"What's this?" He asked, holding one of the pages up. I don't know what inhuman noise escaped me but I reached forward, hoping to grab it out of his hand before he could read any word on that damn paper. I had been so close to wording it correctly. To find the right way to organize all these jumbled memories and thoughts. But they were far from done. No, it wasn't perfect yet, wasn't something I was ready to share, not like this. Especially not with him.

"Don't-"

"Vince, why are they all addressed to me?"