She shrugs. “I don’t know. Something has changed. Even your perfume’s slightly different.”
I lean back in my seat and glance around the restaurant. The paparazzi are outside the window, probably catching tons of pictures. Their size has doubled since I’ve been home. And the questions they shout aren’t only for my sister now. But that’s her world, not mine. I don’t want it.
“I’ve healed. That’s what you wanted right? The time away puts things into perspective.”
“No. I mean, yes. But no, that isn’t what I mean.” She fingers the fork next to her plate before lifting her gaze back to mine. She moistens her lips and says, “Are they your scent matches?”
If scent matches feel like they belong to you, yes. But that’s just a fairy tale we are told when we are kids. That just like soulmates, people have scent matches. It’s not any realer than the show.
I scoff. “Scent matches? What did you do with my sensible sister while I was gone? First, you’ve watchedOmega in Paradise, and now you believe in scent matches? Next, you’re going to tell me that you believe in Santa Claus.”
“Lilah…” She draws out my name. “Stop. You can talk to me.”
“What do you want to hear, Ash?” I push my plate away. “That although every single aspect of the show is fake, what I feel for them is so real I think I might shatter once it’s all over? Or that I probably didn’t even know what broken was when Jared and Tabby betrayed me? Or maybe even that, I did something stupid…I let them mark me.” I drag the collar of my shirt low enough for her to see Miles’ claim on my soul. “And I would do it all over again. Every single second, if I could be close to them.”
Tears for me shine in her eyes, and she blinks them away, reaching for my hands. She clasps my fingers between hers. “The show isn’t over yet.”
I smile sadly and tug my fingers from hers. “No, but I made a deal to only go to second place with Rafe.”
“Well, there’s no way an alpha who has claimed an omega will keep up that sort of deal,” she says.
She couldn’t know how painful those words were. Because I know the truth. That isn’t what the sex was about for him.
My lips quiver slightly, and I sigh, my chest too tight. “That’s probably why he didn’t mark me.”
“That won’t matter. Miles and Elliott won’t let him pick anyone else.” She sounds so sure. And she’s probably right. They aren’t the type to claim an omega and let her suffer when it isn’t complete.
But my head’s clear, and I know what I need to do. “I’m going to quit the show.”
“What?” she explodes. I know she heard me, so I don’t repeat myself. The words were like razors in my throat the first time. “No, you can’t walk away from this, Lilah.”
“You’ve walked away from a pack before, Ash,” I remind her.
She had been head over heels in love with them. But they told her to choose between them and acting when she landed her first movie deal. The boys we grew up with just turned their backs and walked away. And she didn’t look back either.
Her face goes blank, and pain flashes in the depths of her eyes as she crosses her arms. “I have Owen now, that isn’t the same.”
I snort, digging into this topic to distract her fromfocusing on me and my train-wreck. “Owen. Right. He’s so perfect.”Not.I barely hold in my eye roll.
“No one’s perfect.”
Humming, I tug my plate back in front of me, and I pick up a fry and drown it in ketchup. “That’s an understatement.”
“We are not talking about my love life right now,” she says stubbornly, locking back on her previous train of thought. “Lilah, I might not know your pack well, but I run in the same circles as them. And Rafe—he helped me out of a bad situation before. They are a good pack. And I’ve watched the way your eyes light up when you interact with them. Or the longing painted on your face when you don’t think they are looking at you. And I wanted to climb through the TV and strangle Hailey when she kissed Rafe a second before you walked into the room.”
I drop the saturated fry and swallow. “She kissed him?” My voice sounds unsure to my own ears. I shake myself, clearing my throat. “It doesn’t matter.”
She pokes her tongue into her cheek and sits forward. “I know what you need.”
Almost afraid to ask what she thinks I need, I lift my eyes to hers.
She opens her purse and pulls out a hundred and drops it on the table. “Come on.”
I follow her quick steps out of the restaurant and through the waiting crowd. The chaos of the shouting and the flashing lights only fades once we are inside the back of a taxi.
“What are we doing?”
“Opening your eyes to the truth. The show’s two weeks behind, but you can watch every episode to see what I do.”
