Goalie Milton Grady and Defenseman Korbin Brooks will be meeting with Omega-Match Corp today at 11 AM to discuss compatibility charts and review a selection of pre-approved omega candidates.
My stomach drops, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
Milton. And Korbin. Meeting with the matchmaker. Talking about what they want in an omega. Looking at matches the agency thinks will fit them.
My hands start shaking. I was going to ask them for help. For the first time, I let hope in. Trusted someone other than my family and my best friend. I allowed myself to want something, someone. More than someone, three people.
But they’re meeting with the matchmaker today. It had to have been scheduled. And yet, no one mentioned it to me. Even this morning when they sent their good morning messages.
I swallow hard, forcing air into my lungs.
Of the three of them, I expected Lincoln to tell me. To warn me what was coming. But he didn’t.
My fingers trembling, I start typing him a message.
Me: What ya doing?
Unlike the group chat, his message this time is almost instant.
Lincoln: Went with Milton and Korbin to the rink. What’s up?
So he’s there. Why not message me earlier when I messaged the group? I switch to that chat to see if I missed anything. They all saw it. But no one messaged.
Me: At the rink?
Lincoln: Yeah, watching them practice and stuff. I can’t talk right now.
The half-truth hits harder than any rejection I’ve ever lived through. He can’t talk right now. I guess not; they’re busy looking at potential omegas. I grip the steering wheel, breathing shallowly, vision blurring as my body goes cold.
I can’t believe that I let myself trust again. That I opened my heart to them. Lincoln even took my virginity. Was it just a game?
How could I have been so stupid to believe this time might be different? Might be safe? Lincoln was probably being kind, taking the deaf girl’s v-card. I bet the three of them had a good laugh about it afterward.
Milton was probably being friendly, crossingkiss pathetic omegaoff his bucket list. Korbin was probably acting on instinct and rage toward Benton. And me… I let myself dream for the first time in forever.
My throat tightens until I can barely swallow. Because in one instant, one post, one lie—every inch of hope and trust I’d built with them shatters.
Benton was right. They’re not good people. They used me.
Dreams are just that, and I’ll never have another one again.
39
Korbin
Bayleigh: Hey. What’s up?
Bayleigh’s textlights up my phone. I don’t open it.
My stomach twists at ignoring her, because I know that she’s probably just checking in.
We should’ve told her about this meeting with the matchmaker. But it felt like the better option to handle it first. Get through it. See what the repercussions are before we dump that weight on her shoulders.
I lock my phone and slide it into my pocket, jaw tightening.
One problem at a time.
We get this over with. Then we tell her everything—armed with answers instead of fear.
