Chapter 194

Almara’s Pov

I definitely shouldn’t have had that last shot. I lean over the toilet and vomit nothing but bile. Chills run up my spine. The cold tile of the bathroom floor cuts right into my bones, causing me to shiver.

It’s 10:00 am and I’ve been hugging the toilet bowl since seven this morning. I haven’t even seen the downstairs yet. I don’t even know if I want to.

“It’s hard being mad at you when I also feel really bad you’re so hungover,” Arthur says leaning against the bathroom door frame.

“Ugh,” Is all I manage to reply. I guess I deserve this in some twisted way.

“Your parents took Grace on a long hike,” Arthur says. “We told her that mommy went to bed late, so you’re very tired.”

“So tired,” I agree even though I know he means it only as a cover-up. “I’m sorry,” I say slumping back onto my butt and bringing my knees to my chest.

“I’m just upset you mistook me for Robert,” Arthur says scrunching his nose up in disgust. I laugh and then grimace. Laughing is not good for the head right now.

“Well, I was seeing double so I thought he was twice as big than he actually is,” I say.

“Hm, nice save,” Arthur says and slides down next to me. “Why did you get so drunk?” He asks half amused and half concerned.

I squeeze my eyes shut. That question sounds familiar. Did someone ask me that last night? Probably myself at least a dozen times. “I didn’t mean it. I guess I didn’t eat that much, and you know me. I never drink liquor so I guess I’m a pretty light weight to begin with.”

Arthur nods and gently strokes my back. “Well, people have been texting me all morning.”

I half expect him to finish the sentence with something along the lines of people expressing their concern about me, but I can’t be too surprised with what he says instead.

“They think you're kind of crazy,” Arthur says with a laugh. I lower my forehead on my knees and groan. “But, they did say the party was awesome.” He pauses a moment, and I can see out of the corner of my eye he’s scrolling on his phone.

“What is it?” I ask, expecting the worst.

“TM Wolf Magazine wrote an opinion piece on the party,”

I dare lift my head. “Was the press here last night?” I can only hope not.

Arthur shakes his head, “Absolutely not. I would’ve made a bigger scene than you did if anyone with a news crew or camera showed up here.”

I lower my head back down and take a soothing breath in.

“They are calling it the kickstart of the party of the year,” Arthur says reading from the article.

“Why would they be calling it that? New Years was a month ago,” I say.

“They think that by us throwing this party it’s our way of making our entrance back onto the scene. Apparently, those that missed this party shouldn’t fret because ‘there will plenty more just like it,’” Arthur quotes.

“Bold of them to assume,” I mumble. “We didn’t even throw the party! Robert did,” I begin to argue but have to very quickly stop unless I want my head back in the toilet. Besides, stating the obvious to Arthur won’t change anything about what that article says.

“People are calling it a night to remember,” Arthur laughs.

“Great,” I reply as sarcastically as I can muster. “I bet the state of the house concurs with that consensus,” I say thinking about how I’ll eventually have to clean that up. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week.

“Not to worry, I called a maid,” Arthur says. My stomach churns again.

I take the much-needed break for my physical well-being as a chance to also collect my thoughts and feelings on what Arthur just shared, what it means.

Between the article and Arthur calling a maid to clean up our mess, it seems that we are heading back into ‘the scene’ as the article coined it.

We’ve spent the last six years or so building ourselves up from the ground. Except for that one incident with Roman who hired the buyer of my painting, we did everything ourselves. I’ve seen Arthur change for the better because of it.

If we go back to how we lived before, would we still work at the school? Or would we just hire people to run it for us?

“Are you okay?” Arthur asks. “You look like you’re going to be sick again,”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to be sick,” I say then pause, “At least not right now.” I look into Arthur’s sweet eyes, caring eyes. He’s such a good man. Does he think that I want to go back to our previous life? Is that why he’s slowly taking those steps?

When we first met of course I was completely wowed by his lifestyle, his riches, and the way he spoiled me. Who wouldn’t? But it was our time when we had nothing but each other that made me fall for him, not just what he could do or who he was.

“Arthur, we need to talk about the lifestyle that we want.” I tell him. Arthur’s eyebrows frown in confusion.

“What do you mean? Isn’t this your dream house?”

“Yes, but I mean how we want to live,” I try to explain. “We lived a life of glam and riches, and one of being dirt poor. Now that we’re in a sport where we’re financially comfortable and making appearances back in media and with old friends we need to figure out how to handle it all.”

Arthur nods like he’s taking it all in. “I guess I just figured we would take it day by day, doing what we want and not doing the things we don’t,”

“But, there has to be a purpose right? We’re building a future here not just for our children, but for wolves everywhere.” I tell him. “Like it or not, we are in a position of power. We just need to decide how we yield that power and how much we let it impact our lives.”

“Children?” Arthur says, derailing the original point of the conversation. “Are you saying you want more?”

I lazily shrug one shoulder up and let it drop. “I don’t know. I was just speaking, not really thinking much about it,”

Arthur’s gaze lingers on me for a moment before he stands up. “I hear you. And yes, when it comes to children, plural, that will definitely need to be something we talk further about. Though not now Little Wolf. I think recovery is in order first. I’m going to go make you some coffee,”

I shake my head. “Tea, please. I think the water will help.” I tell him. Arthur nods and turns to leave.

What I don’t tell him is I want tea and not coffee, and I mentioned children- plural, instead of just Grace because I think I should buy a pregnancy test.