“If they meddled with your reproductive system, I’m sure there would be signs of it,” I pointed out. He furrowed his brow, puzzled. I gently lifted his shirt and traced my hand along his lower abdomen. The entire area of his body associated with childbirth was untouched by a single scar. “Look.”
He frowned, like he didn’t want to be convinced. “They could’ve used a chemical or something non-invasive.”
“Taking your limbs was pretty invasive,” I countered. “I don’t think they have the capacity for subtlety.”
Scar just shrugged now. I knew he was too deep in his state of self-loathing to see any reason beyond his own dark thoughts. I curled my arm tighter around him and kissed his cheek. “If you still have doubts, we can see a doctor,” I suggested.
With a deep sigh, he leaned against me and muttered, “But what if I don’t like the answer?”
I didn’t want to consider that possibility either. But despite what Scar said, he was still young enough to bear children, and I honestly didn’t believe that his reproductive system had been destroyed.
“Then we’ll have to live with whatever the truth is,” I admitted.
Frustrated tears rimmed the corners of Scar’s eyes. “I don’t want to face the truth, whatever it is.”
“I know it’s difficult,” I agreed, stroking his back in calming motions. “But even in the worst case scenario… If, hypothetically, you can’t bear children, we stillhavea child.”
I gestured to the crib in the corner of the room. Angel’s tiny sleeping grunts could be heard among the silence.
But that didn’t seem to soothe Scar at all—in fact, his expression turned even more hopeless.
“What if Henry’s right?” he asked desperately.
I sighed. “Are you still thinking about that guy?”
“Yes!” Scar snapped. “Don’t you remember what he said? That he hoped Angel’srealparents show up and take her away from us?”
“That’s not going to happen,” I said firmly. “And weareher real parents. Don’t ever think otherwise.”
His brows knitted in frustration and sadness. “I know that. But it could still happen. We don’t know who they are, orwherethey are.”
“They could be dead,” I said, trying to be realistic.
But Scar shook his head. Paranoid, he muttered, “No, I don’t think so. They’re out there somewhere. I know it.”
I sighed, out of ideas. “I still think getting a doctor’s opinion about your body would be worthwhile. Can we at least agree on that?”
Scar paused, his expression tired. Finally, he nodded and murmured, “Okay.”
“Good.” I gave him a tired smile. “Let’s sleep for now. Tomorrow will be better.”
With a listless sigh, Scar collapsed into his pillow and shut his eyes, cutting off the world around him. “If you say so...”
* * *
Scar fidgeted uncomfortablyin the seat beside me. The waiting room smelled sterile with a hint of old magazines. Surrounding us were other couples—alphas and omegas my age. I could tell by Scar’s frown that he was hyper-aware of his age compared to the younger men.
I put my hand on his knee and murmured, “It’s going to be fine.”
He grunted.
“Are you worried about Angel?” I asked.
“A little,” he admitted. “I just hope Raja and Gabriel’s kids aren’t too rough with her.”
“They’re both experienced parents. Besides, Dante and Lorenzo are there too. She’s well-looked after,” I reassured him.
“I know,” he muttered. “Being away from her just sucks.”
