My nervous hands are shaking as I brew coffee. I’m just pouring it into espresso cups when Ariana leaves her room.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Her hair is slightly frizzy, the waves untamed, and her skin is glowing. Her eyes are sleepy behind her glasses, and she’s wearing a pair of linen pants, a plain white t-shirt, and a single sock.
The Omega of my dreams. What if, once I leave, she never wants to see me again? What if she decides that Grant and Derrick are all she needs, and I don’t add anything to their dynamic?
I don’t want to give up Grant, but I won’t force him to choose between the two of us. I’m going to do right by my Omega and Beta. If it comes down to it, I’ll make the decision for him.
“Coffee?” Her voice is thick as she sits down in the chair I’ve quickly come to think of as hers. “Is there something we need to talk about?”
I chuckle awkwardly. “We’ll wait until the guys get here.”
Her back stiffens as her delicate fingers wrap around the tiny cup. It’s only been a couple of minutes when Derrick and Grant join us, neither smiling. They look like they took quick showers, and Grant’s hair hangs wet and limply around his face.
I can count the number of times he didn’t style his hair after a shower on one hand, and each time he was sick.
They take their places at the table and accept the cups I slide to them.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
“I got a message from Bridgette when I woke up."
“And Bradley contacted me.” Derrick talks over me and turns his body slightly to face her better. “They said that they consulted with a Foresaken Omega Syndrome specialist about your situation.”
She leans her elbows on the table, and her eyes bounce between us. “And? What did they say?”
I can’t look at her. If I see that she wants me to leave in her eyes, I’m not sure if I’ll ever recover. “In order to give you the best chance of avoiding contracting the illness, either me or Derrick needs to leave the house.”
Grant sniffles, not looking up from his cup. It makes my chest ache.
I’ve imagined the moment we all would be together for so long, and now it feels like my hopes of being aproper pack are being dashed before we even get off the ground.
I drain my coffee. The cup clanks loudly as I place it, too roughly, onto the tabletop.
Now or never.
“I’m going to go, sweetie.”
She doesn’t move.
Doesn’t react.
I don’t know what I expected. Tears? Begging me to reconsider?
Why would she, when she barely knows me?
How is she to know that I’m the one who always loses to her in chess? I can’t help but feel like I’ll never have the chance to tell her.
After a tense silence, I walk around the table and press a kiss to the top of her head. She doesn’t flinch away from me.
I don’t think I would’ve handled it well if she did.
“We’ll talk when this is over.”
No one says anything as I go to my room and grab my bag.
No one reacts as I drag it past the table and through the living room.
