My heart is doing strange gymnastics.
Fear for Marie's stability.
Guilt for being part of the thing that shook it.
And under all of it, fierce, shaking relief.
He's keeping me.
Even if it costs him.
Eli squeezes my hand, drawing little circles on my knuckles with his thumb. "It will be all right. Messy. But all right."
I want to believe him so bad it aches.
***
Ragon suggests the zoo a few days later like he's offering a ceasefire.
"We could use neutral ground. Fresh air. Distractions that aren't each other's terrible communication skills."
Drake snorts. "Are you including yourself in that critique?"
"Obviously."
Marie doesn't say yes.
She doesn't say no either.
She stares at her plate for a long time and then shrugs. "Fine. Whatever."
So we go.
The zoo used to be my place.
Back when I was the only omega, the only one whose delight was being curated. The first time they took me, I'd practically vibrated out of my skin—Eli gently narrating facts, Drake making up rude backstories for the monkeys, Ragon buying me ice cream and watching quietly while I held my face up to the sun.
This place feels less like mine now.
In the truck, she wedges herself between Drake and Ragon on the backseat, one hand in each of theirs, head tipped onto Ragon's shoulder like it belongs there.
I sit in the front with Eli, hands folded in my lap, watching trees flick past.
When we arrive, the air smells like popcorn and children and animal musk.
"At least the smells will cover our mess," Drake says.
"Nothing covers you," Eli replies dryly. "You're a walking citrus bomb."
Marie loops her arm through Drake's and tugs him toward the entrance. "Come on. I want to see the giraffes first."
"The map clearly states we should start with the reptile house," I say, pointing to the sign.
"Hard pass. Last time you made me read plaque facts for two hours."
"That was enriching."
"That was cruel and unusual."
