Oops, I offered a solution. I wasn’t supposed to do that.
She doesn’t seem to mind.
“Yeah, that makes sense. I loved him. I never told him that. I didn’t want to hold him back from finding his forever by putting the weight of my feelings on him, especially since we could never be together. I’m not that selfish. But I figured since he wanted to meet me, maybe he felt the same way. Sax was the only person I would do this for. I don’t even go to my parents’ house anymore, did you know that?”
I did, but I don’t interrupt her to say that.
“So I did this big, massive thing that has me feeling like the world is falling out from under my feet. I told myself that it would be worth it because I’d have Sax. And now I don’t. I did this scary thing that has me feeling unsettled and terrified, like I’m going to crawl out of my skin, and I don’t even have my best friend to talk to about it. He’s gone, and he’s never coming back.”
Her voice cracks, and I know she’s crying again, but this is the kind of thing she needs to get out. She can’t bottle these emotions up and expect everything to be okay.
“Want to know the stupidest thing, Ivan?” It’s a rhetorical question that she doesn’t give me time to answer. She barely takes a breath between words. “I want to call Sax. I want to call him, tell him everything, and ask for his advice on how to handle this, but I can’t. I can’t. Because he’s the one who did this to me. I don’t know what to do. I’m so fucking scared. I have spent my entire adult life worried I’d meet my scent match, and it happened, and I want to call Sax and ask for advice, but I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
My stupid question flies out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“Are… what? You know why I can’t.”
“But what if you could? One last time? What if you talked to Sax one last time, got his advice, and told him goodbye? If you did that, if you got that closure, do you think you could maybe, possibly, want to meet my pack and me?”
She’s quiet for an excruciatingly long amount of time. I’m trying to figure out how, if she wants to do this, I’m going to pull it off. Whatever I need to do, I will, because she deserves closure. She deserves the ability to say goodbye to Sax for real and start anew with us.
“Can I? Do you think I really could talk to him one last time?”
I push my fingers under the crack in the door, gently brushing hers. She snatches her hand back, but that’s okay.
“Yeah, sweetie. I’ll figure it out. I promise.”
Chapter Eleven
I migratefrom the bathroom to the bedroom that looks eerily like mine after I’m sure Ivan is gone.
I’m getting hungry, but I don’t want to go out there yet. Facing the three of them will make this real, and I want to give Ivan a chance to help me say goodbye to Sax, like he said he would. I don’t know if it will help, but I don’t think it could hurt.
The TV, which had been idle on a screen with the show’s logo, pings and then flashes on about an hour after the Alpha leaves. Bridgette’s face fills it.
“Hi, Ariana.”
“Hey.”
She smiles kindly while holding her hand to her chest. “This has been a wild day, to say the least. How are you holding up?”
“Uh, I’m not. I cried on the floor of the bathroom for like three hours.”
“About that.” Her eyes dart to the left, like she’s looking at something off camera. “The producers have asked that you have any heart-to-heart conversations as you and Ivandid earlier outside of the bathroom. Because you were at the door, the mics were able to pick up most of what you said, but obviously, it’s not going to be an ideal experience for our viewers at home. We may have to double-check with you before airing to ensure that the subtitles are correct.”
“Oh, yes, cannot forget the viewing experience when my life is falling apart, and I am in actual, physical danger of dying from the same illness that took my brother. My bad, producers. I forgot that your bottom dollar is the most important thing. Gotta crank these numbers up.”
“Ariana, that’s not fair.” Bridgette is right, of course. She’s been nothing but kind to me, and I’m taking out my anger on her when she’s not the one who lied to me for years. “We are concerned about your safety. We’ve already consulted with a physician who specializes in Forsaken Omega Syndrome. I know you signed the waiver that we’re not liable in this situation, but we wanted to find out exactly what kind of risk we’re looking at here.”
I hate to admit it, but that’s incredibly thoughtful of them. They knew what I was walking into, meeting with Alphas, and though they’re legally in the clear, they still care enough to do what they can to make me comfortable.
“What did they say?”
She twirls her dark hair around her finger. “A lot of things. They’re still doing some research, but the gist is that there’s no hard-and-fast exposure threshold for triggering FOS. And just because Calvin died from it doesn’t mean you’ll develop it at all, much less such a severe case.”
“But there is a genetic component to it. I did the research.”
