Chapter 280 Would You Suspect Your Husband?

Chapter 280: Chapter 280 Would You Suspect Your Husband?

Emilia’s POV

Sebastian dragged me through the doors of the pack clinic like I was a rogue caught crossing his border, one hand clamped around my wrist, deaf to every word out of my mouth.

"I told you, I’m not hurt," I don’t know how many times I repeated myself. "Our kind heals fast, remember? You’re supposed to know that better than anyone."

"I’ll believe it when the doctor says it," he growled, and that was the end of that.

So I let them poke and prod me until the pack doctor finally waved me off, clean bill and all. When I stepped out of the exam room, I found Sebastian waiting in the hall, arms crossed, jaw tight.

I smiled at him sweetly. "Convinced now?"

He nodded. "Yes. Now I can breathe."

I reached up and flicked his forehead, right where the blood had dried in a dark line. "You should’ve been worrying about yourself. Your head’s still bleeding, Alpha."

"It’s nothing. A scratch."

"A scratch that could get infected. Then you’ll be back here whining, and I will not be sympathetic." I planted both hands on his chest and steered him toward the treatment room. "Sit. Get it cleaned. I’m going to check on Fynn and Lily."

Fynn and Lily had been given adjoining rooms. Fynn had a fractured wrist and six stitches laced across his scalp. Lily had a broken thigh and four stitches across the backs of her hands. Both of them lay stiff and casted, going nowhere fast, even with a wolf’s healing working overtime.

I slipped into Lily’s room first. "The numbing’s probably worn off by now. Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?"

She shook her head against the pillow. "Not so bad, honestly."

Liar. There was no way a break like that didn’t scream. But that was Lily, always dressing up her pain so nobody would fuss over her.

I brushed a knuckle along her cheek. "At least your face is fine. Can you imagine? A scar on this masterpiece? The whole world would go into mourning."

"And why do you think my hands got shredded?" she said dryly.

When the car crashed, she’d thrown her arms up on instinct to shield her face. The glass had torn through her hands instead, and the crumpled front end had done the rest to her leg.

"How’s Fynn?" she asked.

"Same as you, more or less. But he took a hit to the head, so I want to make sure his brain still works. Assuming it ever did."

I stepped back into the hall and crossed to Fynn’s door. Through the little glass window I could see a woman seated by his bed, her back to me. Poised, striking, and definitely not Tiffany. Fynn’s girlfriend, Willow.

And the second I reached for the handle, I heard the voices rise, sharp and knotted, so I froze where I stood.

"How many times do I have to say it before you believe me? I was home tonight. I didn’t go anywhere."

"I saw you. Clear as day. In some man’s car, right in front of me."

"How? I was on the couch watching TV. So did you see my ghost? My astral projection?"

"If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have gunned it after you and crashed!"

A pause. Then, cool as ice, "You’d been drinking, hadn’t you?"

Fynn said nothing.

"You were drinking. Just admit it." Willow pressed harder. "Yes or no?"

"So what if I had?"

"So if you were drunk, then maybe you weren’t seeing straight. Maybe you looked at some other woman and your muddled little brain painted my face on her. I get it, you miss me. But you don’t get to blame me for a wreck you caused driving under the influence."

"It was one drink. Not enough to lose control."

"One drink is still drinking. There are laws, Fynn. Should every drunk who crashes get to cry that he thought he saw his girlfriend in another man’s car?"

Her logic was airtight, and I could actually hear him folding. "Was it... was it really just because I drank too much?"

She pounced the second he wavered. "Fynn. Two years together. You know exactly what kind of woman I am. There’s no one in my heart but you."

"Fine. Just go home for now. I need to be alone."

"Absolutely not. Look at you. Who’s going to take care of you like this?"

"I’m fine."

"You are not fine. Your head’s split open, your wrist is in a cast. If that’s your idea of fine, I’d hate to see your idea of bad."

He had no comeback for that, so he gave up. "All right. Stay if you want. But it’s going to be a long, boring night."

"I don’t mind. Long nights, tall mountains, deep oceans, I’d cross all of them for you."

"Don’t get sappy on me."

Willow laughed. "Only for you, I promise. Are you hungry? Let me run home and bring you something real to eat."

"Yeah, okay. I drank on an empty stomach, so I’m starving."

"Then I’ll go fix you something. Be good, I’ll be quick." She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He grumbled, smiling despite himself. "Sappy and gross."

"Gross? You’re calling me gross?"

That was when I knocked and pushed the door open, keeping my face carefully blank. "Fynn. Feeling any better?"

"Oh. Yeah, I’m all right."

Willow gave me a slow once-over, then a small nod. "Luna Emilia, I’m heading out."

"Go."

I watched her walk down the corridor before I pulled the chair up to his bed and sat, my expression turning grave.

"What’s with the face?" he said. "Don’t tell me someone died because I screwed up."

"You lost control because you saw someone who looked like your girlfriend. Didn’t you?"

Something flickered behind his eyes. "Maybe my vision was off in the moment."

"Was it really a trick of the light? Or have you honestly never considered that it might have actually been her?"

"What are you getting at?"

I let out a breath. "A few days ago, Tiffany told me she saw Willow at a café. With a man. So if you were mistaken tonight, was Tiffany mistaken too?"

His jaw set. "Willow’s pretty plain-looking. Easy to confuse with someone else."

I laughed, short and cold. "You love her so much you’d rather insult her face than entertain the idea she’s stepping out on you?"

"Would you suspect your husband that easily?"

"That’s different."

"How is it different? You love him more, or I love her less?"