Caleb POV
I threw the book across the library so hard it knocked over three others.
The pages were full of my own handwriting, love notes I'd obviously written to Lily during our time together. Sweet words about her laugh, her goodness, her beautiful eyes. But reading them felt like reading someone else's diary. I could see the proof that I'd loved her, but I couldn't feel it.
"Come on," I mumbled to myself, picking up another notebook. "Remember something. Anything."
This one had sketches of Lily's face spread throughout my study notes. Dozens of them, drawn during moments when I should have been focused on pack business. The drawings showed someone completely in love, someone who couldn't stop thinking about his mate long enough to focus.
But that someone wasn't me. At least, it didn't feel like me.
