AYLA

I burst out of my sleep, breathing fast as if I've run a marathon. Cold sweats dripping down my forehead. My heart feeling as if it was about to jump out of my chest.

I take deep breathes. I climb out of bed and go to the kitchen. I pour myself a cup of water, hoping it will soothe me. I sit at the counter and reflect on what happened.

My PTSD has come back. The nightmares and the hallucinations have all come back. It came back around two months ago. Up until then, everything was great. I had everything I ever wanted and I genuinely thought, maybe I could make a proper life here? Maybe I could meet a nice guy and, I don't know, possibly get married, have a couple of more pups. I thought I've dealt with my crap, I thought I didn't have any issues or problems anymore. But I was wrong. My demons have followed me, quietly, lurking in the darkness, waiting for the right time to strike. And boy did they strike hard. I've had almost no sleep for the past couple months. 

"When is this going to stop." I sob to myself. Tears roll endlessly down my face. 

"It won't stop." I heard his voice. I groan in annoyance as I lift my head and face Kendrick. I glare at him as he smiles back at me. 

"Get out of my head," I growled at him. 

He chuckles, "When are you going to get it, precious. You will never be rid of me. You weren't rid of me back there, and you won't be rid of me here."

I shake my head. I look to the roses that sit in the middle of the counter. Seven months ago, I began to get roses once a week. They still have not stopped. 

My heart feels comforted at the sight of them, knowing who's sent them. 

I've tried to not think about Solomon while I was here. And at first, I felt my mate bond with him fade and I was happy. And then when I hardly felt it, I suddenly panicked. I wanted to still feel it, as much as I hated it, I wanted it for some weird reason. 

Only recently I have thought of him more. Every time I do, my heart hurts. Something in me breaks more when I think of his warm eyes. And at night when I don't feel safe, I think of him. I think of how he would protect me. Like the time in the woods. He slept right in front of my tent, just because he heard a sound.

I wanted that feeling of protection right now. Protection from my past. I wanted comfort. I release a heavy sigh. But the thought of him always have thoughts of what he did following. I still can't help, but blame him for everything. I get angry at him. I wish I wasn't angry at him, I wish I could stop blaming him. But I can't. I don't know why I can't just forget about it and love him. 

I cover my eyes with my hands and sob. I wish my life didn't turn out like this. I wish none of this had happened. 

***

The next day, I dropped Milo to my neighbor's and I dragged my ass to work. You know that feeling you get when you're really tired and your eyes sting a little every time you blink? That was me as soon as I woke up. Bags sat heavy under my eyes. My skin was paler from my lack of sleep and probably the amount of water I lost from crying all night.

I opened the door and see Luciana already getting the place ready. With a cheerful smile she turns around and says, "Olah!"

I just did a "Meh" sound in response. 

She frowns at me in disgust, "I really don't like your negative vibe right now, chicka."

I put my apron on and groan, "Me too."

"what's wrong, baby girl?"

"My life."

Luciana just smirked and said, "Literally me."

I just roll my eyes. I hate how she can be so cheerful sometimes. I'm just like 'can you be just as miserable as me, for once?'...such a selfish wish I know. 

Throughout the day, I was just a zombie. I felt like I was just a body functioning without emotion. It was better to not feel. That way Kendrick couldn't toy with me. 

I was at the till as a customer came in. 

"Hello, how can I help-" And my breath hitched when I saw the man. He looked exactly like Solomon. It was the eyes and hair...and everything else. 

I gulped and stared at him wide-eyed. The man chuckled and said, "Do I have something on my face?"

I giggle embarrassingly, "I'm sorry, you just remind me of someone."

"Must be a good looking fellow."

I smiled politely, "Yes, he definitely is....ummm. What would you like?"

The stared at me for a while, gazing upon my face with a small smile, he didn't even look at the menu and ordered, "I would an americano with a blueberry muffin, please."

I nod my head, "Coming right up." I give him a table number and told him I would be right with him.

After serving the handsome Italian man, I worked for the rest of the day in peace. However, what I noticed was that the man did not leave for the whole day. He just kept ordering different foods as he was reading his book. 

After the very last customer left and it was time to close, I grabbed my bag and cardigan. I approached the man and politely said, "I'm sorry sir, but we have to close."

He groans and yawns, "Finally."

I tilt my head in confusion. He chuckles and gestures with his hand, the other seat, "Please sit down and join me."

I took a step back. Okay, this is weird. This guy is freaky, "You need to leave, sir, or else I'm calling the police."

The man throws his head back, "I don't think they would help much, and it will end with you making a fool of yourself, my dear."

I fist my hands and growl, "And why is that?"

He leans forward and says, "This cafe you are in...I own it, along with all of its other branches it has all over the world."

Blood drained from my face. He's the owner. I took a seat opposite him and lean forward, "I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you were...I was just...and you know that..." I gave up and said again, "I'm so sorry."

The man chuckles and waves his hand, "That's okay. It was actually quite refreshing being treated like that. Reminds me that I am not just a rich and famous and devilishly handsome guy. 

I giggled, "I guess if you're into that."

My giggle faded off and silence made a home between us. He reaches out his hand and says, "My name is Miguel Russo."

I take his hand and shake it, "My name is Ayla Greystone."

His brows raise, "What a beautiful name."

I felt my cheeks redden. I looked down and smiled, "Thank you...um, If you don't mind me asking Mr. Russo, why do you want to talk to me?"

He smiles at me, "Because you have somehow sparked an interest of a millionaire my dear. I stayed all day just to gaze upon your golden beauty. Your hair is long and so beautiful golden. Your eyes as blue as the sea. And your smile...it could even cheer up the mafia. I want to take you out,"

I was taken back by his straightforwardness. I haven't been asked out for so long, I didn't know how to act. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

He smirks arrogantly, "Speechless I see. Don't worry, my dear. I will make it a night to remember."

I gulped and took a deep breath. I smiled politely and said, "I have to admit, you are quite a catch Mr, Russo. But I'm sorry, I have to decline your offer. You see, I think there is someone else."

He raises a brow, "You think?"

I roll my eyes and groan, "I don't know."

He leans in. His interest not wavering at all, "Please, do tell. I may be of help to you."

I lean back and stare at him, deciding on whether I should confide in him. The thought of just telling a stranger about everything sounds actually kind of therapeutic. And I bet I won't see him again. I might be out of the country by the time he comes around. 

"I have a son with him."

Mr. Russo's eyes widen, "You have a son?"

I laugh, "Is that a turn-off?"

He shrugs and smirks, "I've had my fair share of milfs."

I cringe, "Ew gross."

He laughs and nods at me, "Please continue."

I ended up telling him my whole story, and it actually felt pretty good. 

"Now I can't think of him without thinking of every single mistake he had made. How he treated me horribly. How he was the reason of why I went through what I did."

Humor and light-heartedness have left Mr.Russo's face. He was serious as I saw him think.

I move uncomfortably in my seat, "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have unloaded everything on you like that."

Without looking at me, he shakes his head, "On the contrary, I am quite interested," His eyes look into mine and said, "The little predicament you are in, reminds me of my parents. You see, my father was not a good man. He did not treat my mother right at all. He cheated on her constantly, he hated being around her. He even had different rooms made so then he could see less of her."

My heart broke for his mother because I knew exactly how that felt. 

He continued, "And then one day, she had enough. She couldn't live like that anymore. And so...she left. They did not get divorced because of publicity reasons. It would just be bad business. But they separated. I would still go out to see her now and then, but she never ever saw my father."

"How long was it? How long did they not see each other?"

He gulped, "They didn't see each other for fifteen years."

I was shocked. Fifteen years...that's a long time. 

"During that fifteen years, my father got older, his interest in other women slowly faded. His bachelor days were over and he was left with nothing, but a successful business. But what it the point in that when there is no one to share it with? That was when he realized his mistake. He realized the value of what he lost. The fast life, the women, the cars, the money, at the end...it means totally nothing because it's all temporary. Love isn't temporary. It's fragile, but not temporary."

"Then what happened?" I asked, totally engrossed in his story. 

"He went to my mother's house. And when she opened the door, he fell to his knees and he wept. He held onto her gown and he wept. and he said, 'I'm sorry.'"

"How did your mother take it?"

He chuckled, "She was both angry and happy. Happy because she never stopped loving and a part of her yearned for him, but angry because the damage was already done. And it seemed unresolvable."

"But it is unresolvable," I said, talking about his story, but in a way, talking about myself as well.

Mr.Russo smiled and shook his head, "No it's not. She thought of every single horrible thing he had done to her. Every bit of hurt and pain that he inflicted on his own wife. And then she realized something."

I lean forward and desperately asked, "What did she realize?"

"She realized that love is never perfect. Love is not a happy story. Love is a journey. Love would not be love without hurt and heartache and pain."

"But what if the damage is too great? What if it's too much to forget."

"And that is when you look at all their bad, all their flaws...and you forgive them. Because that is what love does,"

I felt tears prick my eyes, "But I can't forgive. I can't even look at him without hating and loving him."

Mr.Russo leans forward and softly grabs a hold of my hands comfortingly, "You are bitter, Ayla. I understand that. what you went through is horrific. And I know you blame him. It's his fault. I understand that too. But from a guys perspective, he has done everything in his power to earn your forgiveness. He changed himself when he realized his mistake. He did exactly what you wanted...he let you go."

I sob, "I know that. I know he did so much. and I want to love him so bad, but I can't stop seeing his wrongdoing."

"Then it's you who is the problem."

I yank my hands out of his and scowl at him, "What the hell? How the heck am I the problem?"

Mr.Russo looks at me dead in the eye and said intensely, "Your man has done his part. He changed, he did what you want, he said sorry, he let you go, what sounded multiple times. Now the ball is in your court. It's all on you. You have to power now."

"Well, I don't know what to do!" I yelled at him, "I don't know how to do this!"

He grabs my hands and said, "It's time for you to let go, Ayla."

"Let go of what?"

"Let go of his past. Release it all. It's in the past now, you can't change it, you can't change your suffering. But I am asking, do you love him enough to forgive his sins? Do you have enough grace and mercy to forgive the one man that loved you the most? The man that fought for you and still is fighting for you."

I was quiet. I couldn't say anything. I've never ever thought of it like that. I never thought about forgetting his past, with forgiving.

"But how do I forgive?" 

Mr.Russo smiles softly, "You accept that his demons are in the past and that you can't change it. There is no use fretting over now. That won't be productive. And ask yourself, can you love the man that he is now?"

I was silent. I didn't know what to say. I slowly stood from my chair on shaky legs. Mr.Russo stood as well. We just stood there. I gulped and looked up at him, "Who knew we would be having this talk."

He chuckles and nods his head, "Who knew indeed. You are quite the extraordinary wolf."

My eyes widen, 'How did you-"

"It takes a wolf to know a wolf." He said winking. 

I smiled and shook my head. what a cheeky guy, "Thank you, Mr. Russo. I think you might have just fixed my future for me."

He shrugs, "It's what I do." He said arrogantly. 

I roll my eyes. Joking was put aside when I saw a look of tenderness in his eyes. He grabs my shoulders and gently pulls me closer. My eyes widen. He leans in and presses his lips to my cheek. 

He whispers in my ear, "Live a happy life filled with love, Ayla."

***

I came home, with a whole new perspective on things. I got Milo and put him to bed. as I tucked him in, something was popping out of his pillow. I frown and pull it out. My eyes widen and my heart lurches out of my chest when I saw it was a shirt, Solomon's hoodie.

Milo must have taken it. For some reason, I held it like it was my greatest treasure. I went to my room and sat on my bed and just stared at it. 

The smell of Solomon consumed my senses. I grab it and slowly pulled it over my head. Tears fell from my eyes. Sobs escaped my mouth. I laid down on the bed and cried my heart out...because I missed him. I missed Solomon. My Solo. I cuddled into his massive hoodie, I tucked my nose inside of it, the smell comforts me. 

I wanted him so bad, I wanted him to hold me, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to laugh with him. I wanted to just...be with him. And it makes it hurt more that he wasn't here with me...or more like I wasn't there with him. 

And for the first time ever I thought of Solomon without thinking of the bad, the hurt, the pain, the suffering. All I thought of was how much I missed him and what I loved the most about him. I wanted my Solomon. My love...my mate. I want my mate.