The Arctic Wolf (Part I)

Part I: The Hunter and the Hunted 1

(STEFAN)2

He knew that face. He knew those eyes; that smile, that figure. So different and yet still the same. He absorbed every detail hungrily as if he would devour her with his eyes. She moved and turned, obviously going back. Had she forgotten something? I’ll turn around so she doesn’t see me, he thought. He whipped around quietly and ducked behind another shelf. Could it be? Could it really be her after all those years? Impossible, he thought. Absolutely impossible. This isn’t happening, he shook his head and ran his hands through his thick black hair. It was getting long again, falling in waves around his face, nearly to his shoulders, like back in his old high school days. He smiled, suddenly realizing that with his longer hair, perhaps she would recognize him.3

This is it, you bastard. It’s time to face the music. No more running away. No more hiding. No more wondering if you’d ever see her again. You must talk to her, before you lose her again. You can’t lose her again.4

He wore a long black blazer over a navy blue dress shirt, the top button undone and the collar loose, and comfortable black trousers. He straightened his shirt and blazer, hoping he looked at least somewhat presentable. He had shaved, right? He ran his long slender hands over his jaw line. He’d gotten taller, he knew, and he definitely looked older-not too old, just not adolescent anymore. The man felt adolescent because he just couldn’t seem to still his overactive heart, which was pounding away in his chest. He had broad shoulders and a masculine face, with a touch of the boy he used to be accented by the few lines that age and stress had given him. His eyes were the color of arctic water, piercing and intense, concealed behind long dark lashes. Suddenly he stiffened. He couldn’t believe how nervous he was.5

You idiot, she’ll never remember you. It’s been six years. You’re a grown man. Things change. As pretty as she always was, don’t you think it’s stupid to believe she’s not been taken by now? Get a grip on yourself, man, and walk away with your sanity while you still can! Even if she remembers you, she’ll probably hate your guts. You hurt her. There’s no erasing that.6

He wouldn’t be daunted by doubts now. It was too late to go back. If he had wanted to walk away, why hadn’t he done it right the first time instead of screwing it up royally years ago? He’d imagined this moment differently-not running into her randomly in the local grocery store six years later going completely out of his mind like a hormonal teenager. He sighed. Value Market. What a place for a reunion! It’s now or never. He sat down his basket of groceries and peeked around the corner. 7

He watched as she placed a package of Oreo cookies in her own basket and crossed the aisle for crackers. She seemed preoccupied, caught up in her thoughts. Always the dreamer. That’s her. That’s Emily. Her eyes-something’s changed. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something in her eyes seemed different. He hesitated, and then decided it was time to make his move.8

He strode down the aisle, keeping his eyes ahead and purposefully lightly brushed her shoulder as he walked by and he stopped.9

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, miss, excuse me, I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you there.”10

She turned at the contact and stared up at him. He was over six feet, and she was barely over five feet. She’d cut her once long beautiful auburn curls short the top parted down the middle and the back spiked up with moose, and a few curling tendrils hung on either side of her sad brown eyes. She was small and slender, her waist tapering nicely into well-rounded ladylike hips and behind. Her arms were well muscled for a female, and her hands had obviously seen hard work during her life, but something about her emanated an air of defiance and femininity all at once. Her face was naturally fair, almost pale, with a shapely round frame, and her lips were temptingly ruby red. She wore a long-sleeved shimmering silver blouse that clung to her broad rib cage, slender waist and plump medium-sized breasts. She had donned black jeans, and her characteristic black combat boots. Some things never change, he thought. She hardly looked a bit like her twenty-three years, he observed, but then, he thought he looked older than his twenty-five. He towered over her, and she stared into his eyes for a moment before replying, managing a curiously pained smile. 11

“Oh it’s quite alright, sir. It’s no trouble, really.”She turned back once more to put the box of crackers in her basket and then he spoke again, tentatively placing his hand at her shoulder.12

“Excuse me, Emily?”13

She whipped around, turning on her heel, a look in her soft brown eyes that reminded him of a startled deer. He removed his hand and tried not to appear alarmed.14

“H…h…how do you know my name?” She stuttered uneasily.15

“We know each other, from a long time ago. We used to be friends. Don’t you recognize me?” He said suavely, gesturing with his hands, hoping she’d respond warmly.16

She blinked up at him. Once. Twice. No response. She simply stared at him, looking him up and down as if she’d never seen him before, but trying so terribly hard to remember. She was puzzled, and her eyes were sad. That’s it, he suddenly realized. Her eyes look so sad; so terribly sorrowful and miserable all at once. She shrugged her shoulders.17

“I’m so very sorry, sir, but I’m afraid I don’t recognize you. What did you say your name was?”18

His heart sank suddenly. He swore he could feel it in his toes. “I didn’t say my name.” He stuck his hand out in greeting. “Stefan. My name is Stefan, sorry.”19

She clasped his hand and his heart leapt into his throat. He swallowed, desperately trying not to appear unnerved by her touch.20

“A pleasure, I’m sure. You didn’t say where we met before. I’m sorry my memory is so terrible, but I don’t recall ever knowing a Stefan, honestly. It’s an interesting name, though, and you seem nice and all, but I really must be getting back to my shopping. I am with my family and it’s my turn to get dinner.” She managed a half smile once again before shuffling the weight of her heavy basket in her arms. 21

“Do you need help with that?” He asked, gesturing toward the basket.22

“No thanks, I’m fine really. It’s not really that heavy, I’m just a little tired; that’s all, but thank you anyway.”23

“Well, we were old friends once, you and I, back in high school, years ago. I remember it so well. We used to be best friends, but I screwed things up pretty badly between us, and I was hoping to set things straight. I haven’t seen you in so long, I was hoping you’d recognize me, but I understand that time can change things.”24

She looked so desperately sad. It was useless. How could she not remember? They were not only best friends, they’d been lifelong companions! They’d practically lived with each other since elementary school, well that was until six years ago, when he’d graduated and left her to the wolves. You’re such a beast. It was crazy for him to believe she really didn’t remember. Had something happened? Was she afraid to say anything? 25

(EMILY)26

She knew exactly who it was the moment he’d said her name. His voice was slightly deeper, but not by much. She knew that voice, and it called to something deep in her soul, and wakened a part of her that had been dormant for so long. His voice was like velvet, pouring over her, seeping into her brain and she almost felt tranquilized by the familiarity of it. But she woke from her reverie, and knew she must do the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She had to deny and break the heart of the only boy, or man, she’d ever loved. Stefan Wolfgang, why did you ever have to come into my life?27

Deep inside her heart was breaking. Why today? Why now? Why, of all the days of her meaningless hollow existence should he decide to show up now? Why, after all these years, do you think it would make everything better? Real smooth, jerk. Play it smooth by bumping into me in a grocery store. That’s very much like you. You never thought out anything. She struggled with her conscience while he stood there, waiting for her to change her mind and say she remembered everything, that she was only tugging at his heartstrings; that she was only playing. What was he waiting for, anyway, an invitation to leave her alone? He looked so hurt by words. After all, she had just betrayed him. 28

Serves you right, you lying bastard. You deserve so much more than that, after what you put me through. I hope you consider me thoughtful by letting you off with only this. At least I don’t slap you in the face. It’s only denial. Cheer up; your life might not be worthless. She was only hurting herself by hurting him, and she knew it, but she didn’t want to give in. She was always the strong one-the fighter. She didn’t quit or throw in the towel when things got rough. Why should she do it now for some male who crushed her when she was young and expects everything to be perfectly fine six years later? Damn him. Forget this and just walk away.29

(STEFAN)30

Damn it, you fool, she probably hates you. You hurt her. You tore her heart to pieces, you ass, and now you think running into her six years later is going to fix everything and make both of your lives peachy? Keep dreaming, old man, keep dreaming. More than anything, she erased your memory long ago to keep from going insane. You bastard, you don’t deserve her.31

“I’m so sorry that I can’t help you, and can’t recall anything. I just don’t seem to be able to remember, and I feel terrible. Perhaps you have me confused with someone else? Six years can change lots of things about people. Perhaps I merely look and share the name of someone you loved and lost years ago, and for your pain, I truly am sorry, but I can’t help you and I really must go.”32

She touched his arm, shuffled her basket once more and turned away, leaving him completely speechless and dumbfounded. How can it be? Let her go. You’ve got to let her go. You threw her away last time, and it’s no wonder you can’t make her remember. Would you want to if someone did those horrible things to you? He felt like crying. Him, Stefan Wolfgang, a grown young man, felt like sobbing like a five year-old. No matter how he tried to make sense of it all, he just couldn’t. He realized suddenly that in his reverie, he was letting her get away. Damn it!33

She wasn’t in either of the neighboring aisles. Where the hell did she go? He stopped a moment and made a dash for the cashiers. What if she’s already gone? You fool. He paced along each aisle, searching and hoping he’d find her and talk some sense into her somehow. It was Emily McNeil and no other, and he was not about to let her walk out of his life, because this time, it could be forever.34

(EMILY)35

She walked away from him, and went through the cashier’s line to pay for her groceries. She was so distracted, she nearly left without her purse. Damn him. This is what he’s always done to me! She carried her bags out the door thinking of how relieved she would feel later, knowing that she had scared Stefan away for the last time. She knew she’d probably never see him again, but then again, that’s what she had said to herself when he’d walked away before and left her broken, confused, and tormented. He’d hurt her beyond repair. She hadn’t been able to allow herself to ever love or be loved because he’d made her so afraid. Her heart was in tatters, and it was his own little masterpiece. Well done, you bastard. Well done. I applaud you, now just let me go.36

She knew that she loved him still, and that was the entire problem! She hated him for making her love him and hated loving him even through the hate that he very well deserved. It was true, she knew, that once you fall in love it never fades or dies. It’s there, all the time, always there, beneath the surface. And her love had come back to chisel away more bleeding parts of her heart. Like hell, you will! She gave up her heart once and got it back in ashes. She was not doing that again. Love hurt like hell, and she wasn’t dumb enough to go back for seconds. Screw him. He’s not worth caring whether or not there were tears in his eyes when you openly denied him. You’re a real bitch, and you know it and you love it. Damn him.37

She put one foot in front of the other, willing herself to walk through the exit doors, hoping to leave his memory behind, but knowing it would always follow her. Love is relentless, she thought. Why can’t I just die, and this be over with?38

(End of Part One)39