When I open my eyes, Keelan is heading for the dining room. What time is it? I think it’s too early for lunch. As we enter, I see Sophie sitting at the head of the table. Weird, no one ever sits there, we don’t even keep a chair there. Keelan places me down on the chair to her left and leaves. I guess I know why he brought me downstairs. As much as I love Sophie, I wouldn’t want another omega in my nest or pack bedroom.
“Where are the dads?” I ask awkwardly, not looking at her. I have a feeling as to why she’s here. The guys ratted me out.
“They’re running errands,” she responds evenly, no hint of her emotions one way or the other. She has a cup of tea in front of her, the steam still rising from it. Her silence is unnerving. She isn’t one to be quiet, that’s usually me. I still haven’t looked at her face, too afraid of what I’ll see. Pity.
Her hand envelopes mine. Silent support. It’s something my own mom would’ve done and I’m nearly brought to tears over the memory. That’s probably why I’m always grabbing the guys’ hands or wanting them to hold mine. It was always something my mom did to comfort me. Such a small action.
Feeling braver now, I look at Sophie, first at her hazel eyes that are the image of Connor’s. He may have looked just like Max in every way, but his eyes were from Sophie without a doubt. It’s that reminder of him that releases my tears. I don’t really know what I’m crying over specifically. Sophie wraps an arm around my shoulders and holds me as I cry. All the crying I’ve done since moving here seems to pale in comparison to today. She holds me through it all, soothing me as best she can.
I’m not sure how long it goes on for. I feel wholly drained after. “Better?” Sophie asks, still holding me.
“A little,” I rasp out, sitting up out of her hold. “What did they tell you?”
“That something happened that triggered you and you seemed withdrawn since,” she says softly.
Bracing my arms on the table, I lay my head atop them. “He’s still winning. It’s not fair.” It’s a minute but she seems to pick up what I’m saying.
“Then don’t let him. Whatever is eating away at you, talk about it with me, your mates, hell, a therapist. Whoever you want but don’t keep it in like this,” she says more fervently. I turn my head so I can see her face. She looks like the fierce Sophie I’m used to.
“I don’t want this. I thought I was free of it all and it was over. I’m an idiot for thinking it’d be so simple.” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I’m so tired Sophie.”
She reaches towards my head slowly, as if asking permission, and gently pats my head. “I know honey.” We stay like that and I make the decision to give her the cliff notes version of what happened in that house. I can acknowledge that I need to talk about it and in this moment, I feel brave enough to. If I don’t, I’m worried I’ll shut down all over again.
Sophie cries with me as I tell her the gist of what happened. “I’m so sorry, honey.” She pauses, sniffling. “Something like this won’t go away overnight. I really think you should talk with someone, like a therapist.” My body tenses at that. “I’m serious, not just because of this but everything. From the stalking starting to Connor. You’ve been burying everything for too long. You deserve to be happy again.”
I know she’s right as much as I hate it. I’m not against therapy. Literally the whole pack has been before. I just don’t want to relive everything. But the coping I’ve been doing, if you can call it that, isn’t working. I feel so raw since the other night and I haven’t been able to shake it off. I don’t want to push away my pack. In reality, ever since I came to this town, my coping skills have been failing. Something about this town, meetingmy mates, makes it so all my defenses and guards slowly started crumbling, leaving nowhere for me to hide and avoid my feelings. Maybe it’s a scent match thing or maybe my body was exhausted after trying to keep it up for a year. I am tired, and it feels like that down to my soul. Even the bonds have seemed dimmer since coming home.
“Okay, I’ll make an appointment.” I know it’s for the best but I dread it all the same.
47
THEA
Ihate Mondays. They are objectively the worst day for a lot of reasons. One being it’s one of the two days during the week that I have therapy. After my talk with Sophie a couple of weeks ago where I agreed to an appointment, I found out my lovely mate Ben had already scheduled one for me just in case. I love him but I wasn’t happy they already planned it. I can’t blame them but I can still be annoyed, at least that’s what I’m going with.
We just finished today’s session. The therapist is the same one the guys saw for about a year after their ex-courtship. The sessions are online, via a secure site. She’s nice and doesn’t push hard about things like I imagined would happen. But I always feel mentally drained afterwards. Currently I’m snuggled up in my reading chair in the library, with Duke resting at my feet on the ottoman. He’s such a good dog. He now follows me around like he does Micah, though only when Micah isn’t home. Once he is, Micah is clearly the favorite, which is fine with me.
After the first couple of sessions, I started sleeping in the pack bed with the others. Only two or three of them would be there. I think they didn’t want to overwhelm me. Micah hasn’tslept there much but I wonder if that’s just his preference. If it is, I want to make sure to go to his room sometimes too. We haven’t talked much since I came home. At least not about what we discussed at the hospital. He’s been here for me through everything just like the rest of the guys.
I still haven’t felt up to any physical intimacy with my mates other than hugs and light kisses. I’m learning to not downplay it as my therapist said. My original frustration with myself was that nothing went beyond the groping and kissing so I should be fine to be with my mates. Oh boy was she quick to dispel that thought process. I keep having to catch myself when I start to go down that road and course correct.
Then there’s the fact that I want to bond with Micah; now that we’ve agreed to it. The hollow feeling I’ve had since the heat has felt more significant.
A knock sounds at the door, making Duke raise his head in question. I yell a quickcome in. Figures it’s Micah, as if my thoughts summoned him. I readjust how I’m sitting so I’m fully on the chair, freeing up space on the ottoman for him, though Duke takes up most of it, regardless. Micah walks over first, leaning down to kiss me on the head before sitting down next to Duke. He pets his head and then neck and shoulders. Duke is in heaven from the attention, making me smile.
“How was it today?” he asks cautiously, still petting Duke.
“It was good. Productive,” I answer, twirling the question I want to ask around in my head. Fuck it. “Micah?” I ask and he locks his eyes with mine. “Do you want to bond…right now?”
His eyes nearly bug out of his head and for him to make such a comical expression, I can’t help but roll with laughter. “I’m sorry—your reaction.” I cut myself off, laughing again. It’s no secret I have little tact. When I look at him next, he’s pouting in that gruff ‘I’m pissed off at everything’ look. I know his tells now, just some of them, though.
“You’re serious?” he asks gently, vulnerability bleeding into his voice and eyes erasing the hardness normally there.
“Yeah. I’m not ready for sex, in general, yet, but I want to bond with you. Ever since we talked about it, the missing spot I’ve had since my heat when I bonded everyone else has felt even bigger than before,” I say honestly.
He looks surprised to hear I’ve felt that way since the heat. After the heat when we talked, he said he needed time and I respected that. I didn’t want to put pressure on him by voicing my deeper feelings. “If you’re sure then yes, I want to bond.”
I reach over and pull his hand as I lie back in the chair. He would have to lean over me, but I want to be close. Even if we’re not having sex, we can still have intimacy.
