A/N: This piece is dark, angst ridden and...different for me. I'm finally beginning to believe that I've a handle on how to write sad love stories. ;)

SM owns all. I'm just borrowing her characters for just a short while.

TONIGHT

"I'll see you tonight." She said as he walked out the front door again, with only a peck on her cheek, no words of love. Sighing, she leaned against the wall in the entry way, her shoulders dropping as she closed her eyes. This was not the way this was supposed to work out or so she used to think. What she was facing was a completely different reality. She now recognized that the imprint only brought them together, creating what the Council termed as a perfect Shifter Mate bond; happiness was never guaranteed. What a load of bullshit…

She spent hours every day, cleaning, cooking, and mending, without complaint on her part. In the beginning when she was still naïve and blinded by the mystery of their bond, she gave it her all, for his love and for the Pack. Time carried on and it was the little things that started to wear on her. He would be out on long patrols, not stopping in to check on her, or he'd be off working at the construction site. At first, she told herself he was doing these things for her, for the Tribe, but now, she wasn't so sure.

When he was at home, he was either asleep or watching a game on tv, trying to relax. She had tried to talk him into going off res for a couple of hours to have some alone time, but he would blow her off with something about "can't leave the Res unguarded". More than once, he had claimed exhaustion whenever she tried to tempt him in the bedroom. She began to feel unwanted, unloved.

So there she stood, leaning against that wall, wondering if she hadn't been played for a fool with all of this mystique mumbo jumbo because not once since she accepted that imprint bond had he shown one bit of appreciation for what she had done for their relationship or the Pack. It was as if her actions were expected of her, as if no one noticed her at all.

When she had first found the hastily written invitation stuffed into her apron pocket, there was no way that she would have considered accepting it. However, at this very moment, she needed it as much as she needed the very air she breathed. A respite from her daily routine with someone who wanted to spend time with her. Hopping into her car, she threw her purse into the passenger's seat, determined to take something for herself.

Finishing a double patrol, he rolled his shoulders, attempting to lose the tension that seemed to follow him wherever he went. What he found when he walked into his room blew him away. The living room was a wreck, clothes strewn everywhere and dirty dishes piled up. His eyes wide, he sniffed the air. He knew that smell all too well.

"What the hell?!" He bellowed as he followed his nose to their bedroom. Opening the door with a slam from his palm, he saw her sprawled across their bed, passed out. She had done it again. On the side table sat an open bottle of her "prescription" drugs and a half smoked blunt. With a sneer, he stomped across the room to check her pulse, an action that he had repeated many times since they became a couple. With a heavy sigh, he found that she was still breathing, her pulse telling him that she had passed out.

When she had agreed to their imprint, he was clueless about her addiction for she had kept her secret safely hidden. It wasn't until they had been together about six months that he noticed something was not right. Deliriously happy that he had someone to call his own, he had been so blinded that he couldn't see the proverbial forest for the trees. However, that honeymoon phase didn't last long for him. Night after night of long drawn out arguments followed. No matter how hard he begged and pleaded, she refused to acknowledge that she had a problem, unwilling to accept that she had a flaw.

One of the days, she would push things too far, one too many pain killers, and where would he be left? Fuck! I hate imprinting! He growled as he put his head in his hands, frustrated beyond his ability to cope. She drank. He took extra patrols. She took more pills. He glossed it over to the Pack, trying not to let it slip that his imprint was seriously flawed, not once did he let slip the memories of seeing her passed out, the vomit, the destruction that she was causing on his very soul.

It was a desperate act that had him leave that note in her apron as he reached out to the only person that he felt would care. All he had ever wanted in his entire existence is for someone to see him, to love him. Was he asking too much from Life? He only wanted someone to want to be with him. The note had a specific date and time for their meeting. If she showed, then he had every intention in opening up, telling her how bloody and raw his soul had become, hoping that her gentle heart could help repair what was left of him.

Leaving his mate lying prone on their bed, he grabbed his keys off of the kitchen table, slamming out of the house. He did not care if all of his noise caused her to wake up. Maybe if she realized that he was on the very edge of leaving her for good, she would do something to save their relationship. If she didn't, he was very ready to take the next step in trying to find some happiness and peace for himself.

Months of clandestine meetings later….

Watching as the rain poured outside, he leaned against the window sill, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. Gods, how I hate this. How I hate Her. He growled. Then, a fingernail ran slowly down his bare back, calling him out of his melancholy thoughts. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her long hair, her beautiful eyes, that sexy smirk, waiting for him.

"Come back to me." She crooked her finger, walking backwards towards their bed. Picking up the full bottle of Jack from the side table, she lifted it to her lips, drinking deeply, slowly. He knew all too well how she loved that burn as it slid down her throat.

Unable to look away, he turned towards her. "Babe, I just don't think I can take much more. She's killing my soul." He whispered. Taking the bottle away from her, he raised it to his lips, finishing it. "I don't want to go back."

With a slow smile, she crawled back into the sheets that they had already torn up that evening. Her movements made her hair swing over her hips in a way that simply drove him insane with need. "We don't have to go back tonight." She settled herself against the pillows, holding her arms open to him, waiting. Both of their "mates" were out, one out of state to visit her sister, the other visiting the Makah.

His eyes raked over her sensual body. It was beyond him how her man could ever consider not paying her homage every night. If she were mine, we'd probably never leave the bedroom. Crawling onto the bed to lay pressed against her body, he traced a finger along her jawline, turning her face to his. "Don't go back to him, please." He kissed her slowly, passionately. "Stay with me, let me love you."

With a purr of pure lust, she wrapped her body around his, pulling him over her. "You know I would if I could, but this is just not possible for either of us." Her hands nimbly ran over his chest, feeling the contours of his muscle, memorizing them.

"He doesn't deserve you." Giving into his needs, he bent to kiss along her neck, lingering. "You would never be left wanting with me, you know that." His teeth grazed over her pulse point, making her shiver.

"Tell me you love me." Her voice whispered softly into his ear. Moaning, she inhaled deeply at the feel of his tongue on her collar bone.

Shifting his weight to his elbows, he replied without hesitation. "I love you, Emily, more than Life itself. I would willingly walk away from Her for you." His head dipped again to worship her body. "Please…leave him."

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment of pure indulgence as she reveled in the sensations caused by his lips. He had never been able to make her feel this way, cherished, loved, sexy. What did she really want in her life? His hands roamed over her body, dragging her thoughts back to the obvious answer.

"You leave Rachel and I'll tell Sam tonight."