16
Felix
I was afraid.
The entire ride home, Elijah had his arm around my shoulder. Even River seemed to know I was upset. He laid his head upon my lap and wouldn’t move.
My heart was beating too fast and hard to speak. I was afraid that when I opened my mouth, it would fall right off my tongue like sludge.
The threat of being violently ill had worn off, but knots of anxiety still twisted my stomach and cold sweat trickled down my skin. The last time I’d been so nervous was when Larry kicked me out of the house.
My heart lurched violently at the mental image of his face, and I wish I hadn’t thought about him at all.
But Elijah was right by my side, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.
So what was I afraid of?
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to urgent care?” Elijah asked me again as we disembarked the car.
“No,” I mumbled. “I don’t feel that sick anymore. Just scared.”
Inside the home, Elijah put me on the couch with a blanket while he made some warm ginger tea to help my stomach settle. River hopped up on the couch next to me and curled next to my leg, radiating comforting heat. I stroked his fur absentmindedly, getting lost in the soft texture. It was a welcome distraction from my thoughts.
Elijah didn’t waste time when he returned with a tall mug of tea. “Tell me what happened. The truth, please.”
I shut my eyes tightly. I couldn’t tell him the truth.
“Felix,” Elijah said firmly. “Mates don’t keep things from each other.”
He reached down to my knees and felt for my hands, then took them in his own. They were so large and warm compared to mine, which felt clammy and cold.
“I can tell just by the sound of your voice and the feeling of your body that something happened,” Elijah continued. “Something that you’re not telling me. Let’s work this out together, okay?”
I knew it was no use lying to Elijah, but the truth was difficult to say, like a bug crawling out from inside my throat.
“A lot of things happened at the restaurant,” I said finally.
“Good. That’s a start.” Elijah gave me a thin smile. “All I know is that you got sick before dinner. That’s right, isn’t it?”
I recalled the sick feeling that gripped me and was desperately relieved that it was over. “Yes.”
“But you didn’t eat anything.”
“No,” I confirmed. “The smell just got to me. That’s never happened to me before.”
Elijah went silent, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing--the impossible idea he brought up in the bathroom. I wasn’t ignorant. I knew food and scent aversions were common in pregnancy. But seeing as that wasn’t physically possible, why had Elijah brought it up in the first place?
“Felix. I want to ask you a question.”
There was a deep undercurrent in Elijah’s tone.
“Yeah?”
He paused. “Have you ever actually been tested for infertility?”
My heart flipped. My first instinct was to jump to being defensive, like I had when my father asked me the same question. Larry and I had tried together so many times, more than I cared to admit, but every single attempt was fruitless.
I forced myself to remain calm in my answer. “No. We were intimate often, almost every night. And--sorry to get too in detail--but it was knotting, too, which always increases the chances of conceiving. Any normal omega would have become pregnant. But I never did.”
