CHAPTER 117: THE FRACTURES BETWEEN US

Josie

I turned over on the bed for what felt like the hundredth time, the sheets tangling around my legs like they were trying to trap me in the very cage of my thoughts. My chest ached, heavy with the weight of betrayal that I couldn’t shake no matter how tightly I hugged myself. The memory of Michelle’s mocking voice, her words about Kiel knowing the truth, clung to me like poison.

Every moment I had spent with him, every promise he had whispered, every time he swore I was safe in his arms—was it all a lie? If he had known, if he had truly known, then what did that make me? A fool? A replacement? Something he kept close out of pity, out of guilt?

The tears I had been holding back all morning burned behind my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn’t change anything. Crying wouldn’t erase the hollow pain of realizing the one person I trusted most might have been keeping the darkest truth from me.

I lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, when the sound of a soft knock on the door broke through my storm of thoughts.

"Come in," I muttered, though my voice cracked.

The door creaked open, and Marcy walked in. I braced myself for her usual cheer, for her to climb onto the bed and smother me in exaggerated affection the way she always did whenever she sensed I was spiraling. But to my shock, she didn’t smile, didn’t tease, didn’t even reach out. Instead, she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, her face set in a firm line I had rarely ever seen on her.

"Why are you always so selfish, Josie?" she asked bluntly.

My head snapped toward her, disbelief flashing hot through my veins. "Excuse me?" I hissed, sitting up on the bed, my heart slamming into my ribs.

Marcy didn’t flinch. She didn’t soften. She looked at me like she was staring straight through every excuse I could muster.

"Is this really what you came here for?" I demanded, my voice rising. "I nearly died, Marcy. I was stabbed. And this—this is what you want to say to me?"

For a second, a tiny part of me expected her to backtrack, to laugh it off as some cruel attempt at tough love. But instead, she rolled her eyes, the sound of her exhale sharp and irritated.

"Oh, so now you want me to throw you an award?" she shot back, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "Do you want a medal for stressing Kiel half to death? Should I clap for you every time you decide your pain is the only one that matters?"

I stared at her, speechless. My chest tightened with both anger and hurt, the sting of her words cutting deeper than I could have prepared for.

"You’re unbelievable," I whispered, shaking my head. "My best friend—my own best friend—and you’re taking his side? You’re standing here, telling me I’m selfish when I’ve been bleeding, when I’ve been betrayed—"

"Betrayed?" Marcy barked a bitter laugh, though there was no amusement in her eyes. "You’re so dramatic. You’ve been fine for a long time now, Josie. You’re alive. You’re breathing. You’re strong enough to fight, to argue, to throw words like knives. Don’t act like you’re this broken porcelain doll who can’t handle the truth."

Her words slammed into me like physical blows. I clenched the sheets in my fists, my breathing unsteady.

"The only thing keeping Kiel silent," she continued, her voice lowering with controlled fury, "is your cowardice. Your fear. You are terrified of Michelle, and instead of facing her, instead of dealing with the mess she created, you keep punishing your mate for things he doesn’t even deserve. You sit here pretending that everything’s black and white, when the world doesn’t work that way!"

"Don’t," I snapped, my voice trembling. "Don’t you dare make this about me being scared. Michelle is—she’s manipulative, she’s dangerous. You know what she’s capable of. And now she’s saying Kiel knew, that he defended her—how am I supposed to ignore that?"

Marcy leaned forward, slamming her hand against the wall so hard I jumped. The sound cracked through the silence like a gunshot.

"You think Michelle makes sense?" she growled, her eyes blazing. "You think the words of a snake suddenly carry truth just because you’re desperate to find a reason to hate the man who loves you? Do you even hear yourself?"

I blinked at her, stunned into silence, the breath caught in my throat.

"She twists everything!" Marcy pressed on, her voice rising. "And you—you just lap it up because it’s easier than admitting that maybe, just maybe, Kiel isn’t the villain here. Maybe he’s the one protecting you."

My lips parted, a weak defense clawing its way out. "Protecting me? By lying to me? By hiding the truth about my parents? That’s not protection, Marcy, that’s betrayal!"

Her expression hardened. "Alphas are not made of sticks, Josie. They’re flesh and blood. They bleed, they break, and they make mistakes. Do you really think Kiel is spending every second trying to protect Michelle? Wake up. If he knew something, he wasn’t protecting her—he was protecting you."

The room felt like it was closing in on me. My head spun with her words, her conviction, the unwavering force in her voice.

"You’re not so perfect either," she added sharply. "You’ve been keeping things from him too. You think you’re righteous, but you’ve hidden truths, buried your fears, refused to trust him when he’s given you every reason to. That isn’t fair, Josie. Not to him. Not to you."

I opened my mouth, then closed it, my defenses crumbling faster than I could rebuild them.

Marcy sighed then, though her expression softened only slightly. "I’m sorry for what happened to you. I am. I’ll always be on your side when it comes to pain that you shouldn’t have endured. But you need to stop pretending this is simple. Stop pretending you’re the only one bleeding here. Stop giving Michelle exactly what she wants—your broken marriage."

Her words settled like a weight on my chest, heavier than my own pain.

"Because if you let her win," Marcy whispered, "you’ll regret it for the rest of your life."

And with that, she turned and walked out, leaving me alone with the echoes of her voice and the raw ache in my heart.

I sat frozen, the silence deafening after the slam of the door. My thoughts tangled like barbed wire, cutting deeper with every attempt to untangle them.

How could she say that? How could she stand there and tell me I was selfish, that I was a coward? And yet, as much as I wanted to dismiss her words, as much as I wanted to cling to the certainty of my anger, they kept replaying in my head.

Protecting me. Not Michelle.

The more I thought about it, the more my chest tightened, a slow suffocating pressure pressing against my ribs. My breaths grew shallow, uneven. My palms went clammy, and before I could stop it, panic clawed up my throat.

"No, no, not now," I whispered, pressing my hands against my chest as though I could hold myself together.

But the words kept repeating, the possibility, the doubt, the fear. My body trembled violently, my breaths hitching, spiraling out of control.

I started hyperventilating, my vision blurring at the edges, dark spots dancing in front of my eyes. My hands shook as I clawed at the sheets, desperate for something solid, something real.

"Josie?" A voice cut through the fog, urgent and worried. Varen. He was suddenly beside me, shaking my shoulders gently. "Josie, breathe. Look at me—breathe!"

But I couldn’t. My chest heaved, and all I could think was that maybe Marcy was right. Maybe I was mean. Maybe I was cruel. Maybe all this time I had been so consumed with my pain that I hadn’t seen his.

Through the haze, I heard another voice, sharp and desperate.

"Kiel!" Varen shouted. "Get the doctor—now!"

And then Kiel’s voice, raw with panic, filled the room.

"Josie! Stay with me—please!"

Tears stung my eyes, burning trails down my cheeks as I choked on the storm inside me. The truth slammed into me harder than any wound I had ever endured: I was hurting him. Over and over, I was cutting him with words sharper than blades.

"I’m sorry," I tried to whisper, though the sound barely left my lips.

But before I could say more, before I could hold on to his voice, the darkness surged, and I felt myself sinking, my body surrendering to the pull of unconsciousness.