The café was unusually quiet the next morning, the hum of the espresso machine the only sound breaking the silence. Noelle stood behind the counter, hands mechanically going through the motions of brewing coffee, her mind elsewhere.
Last night's confrontation with Micky left her feeling hollow, her emotions raw and frayed at the edges. She had spent the rest of the night replaying his words over and over again, trying to make sense of them, but no clarity came.
The morning rush trickled in slowly, regular customers offering her warm smiles and casual greetings. Sandy, ever perceptive, took on the brunt of the work, shooting concerned glances Noelle's way but saying nothing.
It wasn't until late afternoon that the tranquility shattered.
The café door swung open, the small bell chiming above it, and Noelle's heart dropped when she saw Micky walk in again. This time, however, he wasn't alone.
Behind him stood a striking woman with flowing auburn hair and a confident grace that instantly commanded attention. She was beautiful, in a way that felt almost unfair. Her presence filled the room, her movements elegant yet deliberate, and she clung to Micky's arm like she belonged there.
Noelle froze, her chest tightening as she watched them approach.
Micky looked hesitant, his jaw tight as his gaze met hers, but the woman on his arm appeared anything but unsure. She smiled warmly, though there was something in her eyes—something guarded.
"Noelle," Micky began, his voice steady but cautious. "I know this is sudden, but I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is my wife, Bethany."
The world tilted.
Noelle gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles whitening as she stared at the woman before her. The name hit her like a thunderclap, and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe.
Bethany.
The name echoed in her mind, dredging up memories she had buried long ago. The nights spent protecting her foster sister from the world, from their shared pain and the uncertainty of their future.
The promises she'd made to ensure Bethany had a better life than the one they'd been handed.
And now here she was, standing next to Micky as his Luna.
Bethany's smile faltered as recognition dawned on her face. "Noelle?" she said softly, her voice tinged with disbelief. "It's… it's really you."
Noelle's throat felt dry, her voice stuck somewhere between a scream and a whisper. "Bethany," she finally managed, her tone unreadable.
Bethany stepped forward, her movements tentative now. "I can't believe it. After all these years… I never thought I'd see you again."
"Neither did I," Noelle said, her voice sharp as a blade.
Micky glanced between the two women, his confusion evident. "Wait—you know each other?"
Bethany hesitated, her gaze flickering to Noelle. "She's… my sister. Well, foster sister. We grew up together."
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, everything felt suffocating.
Noelle's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "You never mentioned this to me, did you, Bethany? You never told him about the person who spent years making sure you had a future."
Bethany flinched, guilt flashing across her face. "Noelle, it's not like that. I—"
"Don't," Noelle snapped, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Don't stand there and pretend you didn't leave without a word.
That you didn't take everything I gave you and disappear like I never existed."
Bethany's eyes filled with tears, but Noelle didn't relent. The memories were too vivid, too painful. She remembered skipping meals so Bethany could eat, taking on extra shifts to buy her school supplies, and giving up every dream she'd ever had so Bethany could have hers.
And now, here she was, standing beside the man who had shattered Noelle's heart, wearing the title of Luna like a crown.
Micky cleared his throat, his discomfort palpable. "Maybe we should sit down and talk this through. There's a lot to unpack here."
"No," Noelle said firmly, her gaze locked on Bethany. "There's nothing to unpack. You made your choices, Bethany. You got the life you wanted. You don't owe me explanations, and I don't owe you forgiveness."
Bethany's tears spilled over, her voice breaking as she spoke. "Noelle, please. You don't understand. I never meant to hurt you. I—"
"You didn't think about me at all," Noelle interrupted, her voice cold. "That's the truth, isn't it? You didn't look back because it was easier to forget the person who sacrificed everything for you."
Bethany took a shaky step forward, but Noelle stepped back, her walls firmly in place.
Micky interjected, his voice filled with urgency. "Noelle, this isn't just about the past. I came here because I want to make things right."
Noelle laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humor. "Make things right? How, Micky? By showing up out of the blue with your new Luna? By dredging up everything I've spent years trying to forget?"
"This isn't about hurting you," Micky said, his tone earnest. "It's about peace. About finding a way to move forward. Our packs are on the brink of war, Noelle. Bethany and I thought that if we came here together—if we extended an olive branch—we could stop this before it gets worse."
Noelle's eyes narrowed, her disbelief evident. "You think I care about your war? You think I want to get involved in your mess after everything you've put me through?"
Bethany stepped in again, her voice soft but pleading. "Noelle, this is bigger than us. If we don't do something now, countless lives will be lost. I know I don't have the right to ask for your help, but I'm begging you. Please."
Noelle stared at her foster sister, her emotions a tangled web of anger, pain, and something she couldn't quite name. Bethany's words stirred something deep within her, a long-buried sense of duty that she thought had died the day Bethany walked out of her life.
She hated it. She hated that despite everything, a part of her still cared.
"I need time," Noelle said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just… I can't decide this now."
Bethany nodded, her expression filled with gratitude. "Thank you. That's all I can ask for."
Micky looked like he wanted to say more, but Noelle turned away, unable to face him any longer. The weight of the encounter pressed down on her, suffocating and relentless.
As they left the café, Noelle slumped against the counter, her mind spinning. The ghosts of her past had come back to haunt her, and she wasn't sure she was strong enough to face them.
But deep down, she knew one thing for certain: this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.