I was Kasey. An Omega.
An Omega who was hurt and torn down. An Omega who would find their feet and stand tall and strong one day again.
Because I had my Evy, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter 37
Kasey
The house is different without Evander in it.
He’d left for work a little after nine, pausing in the doorway like he wasn’t sure he should go. I’d told him I’d be fine. Twice. And he still hovered long enough to remind me that he’d be home before three.
But the moment the door clicked shut behind him, the silence settled over everything, like a heavy blanket.
I stood in the middle of the living room for a long time. The house wasn’t big, but without Evander’s footsteps or his voice or the soft hum of him just existing nearby, it felt…hollow.
I hated that it bothered me. I hated that I noticed.
Eventually, I moved. Not because I had to, but because I needed to.
I started in the kitchen, rinsing the couple of dishes left from breakfast and loading them into the dishwasher. It wasn’t much, but it gave my hands something to do. After that, I wiped down the counters. Then the table. Then the stove.
When the kitchen was spotless, I drifted down the short hall, where I straightened a blanket on the couch. Dusted off the table. Folded one throw blanket and set it on the arm of a chair. Picked up a pair of Evander’s socks he’d kicked off last night.
Little things. Easy things. Things that made the house feel like they were living instead of empty.
By the time I made it back to the bedroom the silence didn’t feel quite as sharp.
I took a slow breath and looked around the room. The bed was made. The floor was clean. The soft sunlight shined through the windows.
I had to keep my mind focused on small tasks, cleaning everything I saw, even though it was all clean already. No speck of dust coated at the top of the TV. No stray of dirt lay under the kitchen table.
Keeping busy kept my thoughts away. Keep the past from sneaking in.
By noon, I’d almost convinced myself that I was okay.
Almost.
I was in the living room, curled up on the corner of the couch, a notebook, and pencil I found under a stack of mail from a drawer in the kitchen. The gray lines weren’t the best, mostly from being out of practice, but the shadows of the flower petals were dark enough to give the picture some depth.
Before I became what Lockswell wanted, before the hours of training to beperfect,I had spent time sitting on my bed or in the small lounge areas, drawing.
The one thing I missed was the art classes I got to take. I learned more out of those than I did in health and safety and protocol lessons.
I took to drawing like a fish took to water.
It was a part of me, and I wished it hadn’t been taken away.
I don’t remember when I stopped. Just one day came, and I didn’t pick up the paper and pencil again.
But here, with time to do something to keep my hands busy, I drew.
So lost in thought, in concentration, I didn’t hear any cars pull up. I didn’t hear any slamming car doors. I didn’t hear a single thing until the front door suddenly swung open, banging against the wall just enough to make me look up.
My entire body jolted. I froze where I sat, breath catching in my throat so fast it hurt. The pencil slipped from my fingers.
Footsteps.
