Memories in Focus

Chapter 7: Memories in Focus

Riley’s POV

I parked my beaten-down car in the lot outside the studio, killing the engine with a sigh of relief. The sun had risen fully now, the sky painted in soft shades of gold and blue. It was one of those perfect mornings—too perfect for the dark thoughts still lingering at the edge of my mind.

“Focus, Riley,” I muttered as I grabbed my camera bag and stepped out, the early city hum filling the air. Work was my escape, the only thing that made sense when nothing else did.

The studio was quiet when I walked in, the faint smell of coffee and printer ink lingering in the air. I waved to Marcy, the front desk assistant, who gave me her usual bright smile.

“Morning, Riley! Big day ahead?”

“Just another day in paradise,” I replied, forcing a smirk.

“Don’t forget there’s coffee in the break room,” she added with a wink. “You look like you need it.”

I nodded in thanks and headed to my small workspace in the back. The room was cozy, cluttered with camera lenses, softboxes, and prints pinned to the walls—some mine, some from other photographers who came and went. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

As I set up for the day, my phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. Work first. If I gave my thoughts any room to wander, I knew exactly where they’d go—to the past, to the forest, to Ethan.

A knock on the door pulled me back. “Come in.”

A couple entered, smiling nervously as they held hands. The woman was wearing a simple white dress, her cheeks flushed with excitement, while the man looked like he’d practiced his “calm and collected” face for hours. A familiar look.

“Mr. Riley?” the woman asked softly.

“That’s me. You’re here for the final shots, right?”

“Yes,” she beamed. “For our wedding next week. We can’t wait to see them!”

“Sit tight, I’ve got them ready,” I said, rifling through my desk to pull out the prints.

As I laid the glossy photographs on the table, their faces lit up with awe. The woman gasped softly, pressing a hand to her mouth. “These are… perfect.”

The man smiled down at her, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “We couldn’t have asked for better. You really captured everything.”

“Thank you,” I said, a genuine warmth spreading in my chest despite myself. “That’s the goal—to freeze the moments you don’t want to forget.”

And I meant it. I’d seen so much loss and ugliness in my own life that preserving happiness for others had become my way of fighting back. But as I watched the couple, their fingers intertwined, their love almost tangible, my mind betrayed me.

I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about Ethan and his strange proposal, the wedding of his ex, Liam, was it? That guy was really a bastard and I couldn't help but feel pity for Ethan.

The ache in my chest hit sharp and sudden, but I pushed it down.

“Congratulations again,” I said, slipping the photos into a neat folder. “And best of luck with the wedding.”

“Thank you so much,” the woman said warmly. “We’ll recommend you to all our friends.”

As they left, I sagged back into my chair, my fingers rubbing at my temples. Weddings. Love. Memories. All of it felt like a cruel joke sometimes, like the universe dangling happiness just out of reach.

“Riley!”

I looked up as my boss, Greg, appeared in the doorway, holding up one of my prints—an evening shot of the city skyline, the lights glowing like stars against a black canvas.

“This is yours, isn’t it?” Greg said, grinning. “Client said it’s the best work they’ve ever seen. You’re really outdoing yourself lately.”

“Just doing my job,” I said, offering a faint smile.

“No, you’re doing more than that,” Greg insisted, his tone softening. “Look, I don’t know what’s been driving you lately, but keep it up. Your work’s on another level.”

I nodded, unsure what to say. If only he knew. The thing driving me wasn’t passion—it was survival. An endless fight to keep my mind busy so the past wouldn’t swallow me whole.

“Thanks, Greg,” I said finally.

As he walked out, I let my head fall back against the chair, staring at the ceiling. My mind buzzed with exhaustion, but there was also something else—pride. Maybe I didn’t have a pack or a home anymore, but I had this. My work. It was enough.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

My phone buzzed again, and this time I reached for it, ready to silence whatever notification it was. But when I glanced at the screen, I froze.

Ethan: We need to meet. Wedding prep.

The breath rushed out of me like a punch to the gut.

I stared at the message for a moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to ignore it, pretend I hadn’t seen it. But I couldn’t. Ethan had a way of pulling me in, no matter how hard I tried to stay away.

Finally, I typed back:

Me: Name the time and place.

The reply came almost instantly.

Ethan: How about tonight? My place, 8 p.m.?

I hesitated, my wolf stirring uneasily. This was a bad idea. Spending more time with Ethan, pretending to be his boyfriend—it would only make things harder. For both of us, Speedy and I.

But I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

Me: Fine. See you then.

I set the phone down and let out a shaky breath, the faint thud of my heartbeat echoing in my ears.

“This is going to end badly,” I muttered to myself.

But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of it ending badly… or not ending at all.