Klaus stiffened, the weight of the words sinking in. 'A month ago? She was already planning my birthday this far in advance...' He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt twist in his chest. I had thought of him and cared enough to plan. But he? He had let me walk away. He let me slip through his fingers because of her—Claudette.
Without another word, Klaus threw on his coat and drove straight to the jeweler, the anticipation growing heavy inside him. When he arrived, the jeweler handed him two small boxes. Inside, he found a pair of customized diamond rings, along with tie clips engraved with our initials, "K" and "M."
He ran his thumb over the engraving. His insides stirred again, the primal part of him yearning for the connection that the initials represented. 'We’re mates,' he growled softly within him.
The first gift I had ever given him, back when I was still an eager young twenty-year-old, was a simple tie. It wasn’t much, just a small, thoughtful gesture from a woman who loved him with her whole heart. He had treasured it, worn it to every important meeting, even when Claudette was still hovering around like a ghost from his past.
Now, here I was again, pouring my love into something more meaningful, something more valuable. But the weight of that gift felt heavier in Klaus’s hands than it ever had before.
He drove back home, the silence of the car suffocating. When he stepped inside, he laid out the rings and tie clips on the dining table, next to the feast he had prepared earlier. The food was cold now, untouched. He opened a bottle of champagne he had been saving for a special occasion—something we would have shared, laughing, talking about the future, about pups and plans for our pack.
He poured a glass, his fingers shaking just slightly, and picked up his phone. His heart thudded in his chest as he stared at the open chat.
[Mavis, I received your gift. I like it very much.]
He hit send.
[Please come back. I’ll explain everything, and I promise this won’t happen again.]
The minutes dragged into hours, the silence growing louder with every tick of the clock. The cold food mocked him from across the table, the champagne now flat and bitter.
Klaus prowled beneath the surface, agitated. "She’s not coming back," he growled. Klaus tried to push the thought away, but his patience had run thin.