Page 7 of Bear's Rejected Love

“I’m tired. I’m tired of working dead end jobs where people are rude and mean and I get treated badly. I’m tired of customers looking at me like I’m stupid because I’m the one serving them breakfast and lunch and dinner. I’m tired of not being able to afford to ever even take you out some place to have a meal. I’m tired of barely being able to keep a one-bedroom apartment over our heads in a terrible area of the city. I’m so tired of not being able to get you the things you want, or need. I’m tired of being called stupid so many times that I’m starting to believe it. I’m tired of not being able to keep you safe and not being able to protect you. I’m just exhausted, baby. The city drained me dry. I miss my way of life. I miss our clan. I know you do too, deep down in there. I know you would never say I wasn’t doing enough, but I wasn’t. I know—”

“Mom!” Corbin shot across the bed and hugged her hard. Her breath rolled out of her chest in one broken sob and then she was crying again. “Mom, no.”

She clung to her child, a boy who wasn’t so little anymore. He wrapped his arms around her like she used to do when he was younger, except now she wasn’t the one comforting him.

“Don’t say that. You’re not stupid. It’s not your fault the clan broke up. I know you miss grandma and grandpa too. I know you work so hard. I don’t need that stuff you think I need. I was the one who did everything wrong. It’s my fault we’re here.”

“It’s not your fault.” She gulped and sniffed. “Nothing is your fault, Corbs. But just… this place isn’t a prison and it’s not the end of the road. It’s just a clan full of people who want to help keep us safe. They’ve let us in. We’re a part of this place now. It’s going to be pretty here, in a few months. It might be quiet and in the middle of nowhere, but you’ll like it, I think. You’ll be okay. We just both have to learn how to give it a chance. Maybe it’s what we both need?”

“How can you say that knowing he’s here?”

“I can say that because your father is the reason I found this place and the reason we were able to stay. We might not be together, but he made this happen.”

“No he didn’t. Their alpha made this happen. All of this was because you worked so hard trying to find him. It was because you came and because you asked and because their alpha seems to be not a total jerk.”

“He’s not a jerk at all.”

“Yeah, well, this was all you, mom. And all me because I couldn’t stop—”

“No. Let’s just forget about why we’re here and maybe start trying to enjoy it, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“That’s why I said try, honey.”

Corbin sighed hard. At least he’d said more words to her this morning than all the days combined that they’d been here. He wasn’t exactly sullen or sulking, but he wasn’t happy. She was worried about a rage explosion coming, even though she knew it wouldn’t be directed at her. At least if it happened, he was somewhere safe.

Corbin spent most of his early life raised in the country. He’d only been in the city for the past five years. He’d loved being a kid. He’d loved the clan. He’d loved trees and land and open water. She hoped, that with time, he could rediscover that passion for nature. In the city, his shifter side had been a tremendous inconvenience. He talked about the bear like he was an enemy. It broke her heart. Out here, he could shift without fear. It wasn’t just the trees and sky and mountains she hoped Corbin would connect with, but the other part of himself as well.

She inhaled deeply. Sometimes, first thing in the morning when Corbin smelled like sticky sleep and fresh sheets, it still reminded her of his baby scent. Usually he smelled like most teenagers, but over the past few months that smell included smoke clinging to his hoodies.

He always wore hoodies. Jeans, a hoodie, his old sneakers, and one of his thrifted t-shirts. He liked vintage ones, but they couldn’t always find them. He tried to keep his clothes in good condition because he knew they couldn’t afford new ones, but also because he liked what he’d picked out, but they were all getting faded and worn out.

“We did talk about this,” she reminded him softly. “Before we decided to come. “At least the place is furnished. We didn’t even have to bust out the air mattress.”

Their old couch, the table and chair set, their TV stand and TV, and their two-bedroom sets had been sold before leaving Maine. It wasn’t much, but it had helped out with gas money. She’d thought ahead and got a used tent, sleeping bags, and air mattresses off an online classifieds site before they left Maine, just in case. They didn’t have much—their worldly goods amounting to just a few boxes and their luggage—so for most of the trip they’d slept in the back of the car. At least the old beast had that going for it. She’d packed everything around their sleeping space and held it together on the drive with their suitcases, which she’d slip out and put into the backseat at night. Boondocking was kind of scary, but then again, so were the motels that would have been in their price range.

“It’s pretty nice. Whoever did this knows their stuff.”

“Yeah. It’s a little strong on the wood side, but I’m not complaining. It smells wonderful. So fresh. We’re the first ones to live here, I think. Sam said it was a new construction.” That wasn’t Sam. That had been Roan, but Sam had implied it, and she didn’t need to wind her son up when he was already in a mood. School was more important.

“Okay, mom, I’ll suck it up and go to school and I won’t complain about all the snotty little kids climbing all over me all day, or how they’re learning all the crap I already know, shifter and otherwise.”

“It’s a small school. I’m sure Connor and Loretta are doing their best. Stephanie too.” She’d briefly met both teachers the day after they arrived—Corbin’s first day attending. Stephanie was a TA, but she probably did a lot of teaching all the same. It did seem like a lot of kids for three people, but they were so nice and kind and she’d seen how well-behaved even the little kids were, that she didn’t doubt they were doing a good job.

Good lord, if Corbin learned anything, they were doing amazing. He’d been failing literally every class in the city because he was never at school, and she was working way too much and couldn’t keep checking that he was there. It was just another way that she felt like an utter failure as a parent, even if she knew she couldn’t change anything.

But she had.

She had changedeverything.

They’d made it across the country. This was a fresh start. It was going to be great because she refused to accept anything else for them.

She ruffled Corbin’s hair. He hadn’t attempted combing it, although what he classified as styling the wild, out of control, too long and too thick hair that he refused to have cut couldn’t really be termed combing. It was always wild and all over the place. Kind of like him, and goodness, did she ever love him. She barely resisted the urge to hug the ever-loving breath out of him. But he wasn’t five anymore, he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Thank you,” she said, meaning it with every bit of her being. “Thank you for being open to this and for making this change with me. I know it’s hard right now, but it has to be worth it.”

Corbin stretched and groaned. “Ugh, if you want me to go, you should probably let me get ready.”