DAY
Jan’s house turned out to be much bigger than I’d imagined. Honestly, I’d been picturing a small farm, but it was more like a sprawling plantation, with long rows of fruit trees and bushes stretching over a few low hills behind the main building. Definitely impressive.
Two golden retrievers ran out to greet us, tails wagging enthusiastically. They seemed friendly, even though I’ve always been more of a cat person. Jan introduced them as Max and Buddy.
The house itself had two wings, giving it the vibe of an old estate with a touch of southern secessionist charm. The lawn was immaculate—neatly trimmed, perfectly arranged flower beds, and not a blade of grass out of place.
I couldn’t help but wonder how a guy like Jan, with all this going for him, had stayed single for so long. Well, not anymore, obviously, but still. As I glanced sideways at him, I noticed he was already busy carrying suitcases inside. Following him in, I took in the house’s interior and was pleasantly surprised—it didn’t disappoint. Modern, spotless, and well-maintained, it had the feel of a big family home. However, to be honest, it looked like a lot of work to keep clean. The living room alone was massive!
Sure, I wasn’t obligated to pitch in with chores, but since I’d already told him I wasn’t planning on treating the parasitic part of the contract seriously—not in day-to-day life, anyway—I figured I’d better be ready to roll up my sleeves soon and make friends with the mop, the cloth, and the grind of dusting.
Two large cats, one white and one orange, strolled over to me, the orange one with a fluffy mane circling my leg. I bent down to stroke his back.
"That’s Milky and Fuzz. They’re my Maine Coons," Jan said with a small smile.
He led me upstairs to my bedroom, which turned out to be bright and spacious, complete with its own balcony and bathroom. Everything smelled fresh, like the bedding had just been changed, and the room was nicely aired out.
As I glanced around, my eyes landed on a colorful pile of fabric on a chair in the corner. A strange wave of emotions hit me—it was new nest-building material. He must’ve bought it yesterday.
Unsure how to react, I cautiously looked at Jan. Our eyes met, and he gave me a shy smile, clearly noticing my surprise.
I didn’t say anything, and he probably didn’t expect me to. In the ABO community, it was considered inappropriate to talk about nests with omegas, at least early on in a relationship. Nesting was way too personal. An alpha didn’t comment on whether an omega was nesting, how he was nesting, or why he wasn’t. In healthy relationships, those conversations could happen, but only after trust had been deeply established.
Personally, I’d only ever talked about nests with Nico, and even then, just once. I’d rarely felt enough trust in my life to have those kinds of conversations. Nesting was something deeply intimate for me, something that came from the very depths of my soul.
Jan set my suitcases by the large wardrobe and said, "Let me bring the rest. You just take a look around." He gave me that soft smile again.
"I can help—"
"No," he interrupted firmly, this time his voice carrying that unmistakable alpha authority.
A moment later, he headed downstairs for more of my stuff. I sighed and stepped out onto the balcony. The view was stunning.
The house was perched on a hill, surrounded by a circle of other slightly lower, soft green hills. No other buildings were in sight, giving the plantation an isolated, peaceful feel. Below the hillside, I noticed a serene pond with a small sandy beach. I couldn’t tell if it was for swimming or fishing, but I leaned toward swimming.
When Jan returned, I asked him about it. He stepped onto the balcony, glanced at the pond, and said, "Yeah, I love swimming. That’s one of the reasons I set it up. Originally, it was just a marsh overgrown with reeds, but I deepened it. Feel free to use it if you’d like!"
After he left to grab the last of my things, I stayed on the balcony, soaking in the tranquil views of the plantation and the colorful trees and bushes lined up, waiting to be sold to gardening enthusiasts. I wondered if Jan had employees or if he managed everything himself.
Later, I found out he only had one older beta worker to help with some small chores and pruning, but most of the other tasks, like packing orders, he handled on his own. I immediately decided I’d offer to help him with that.
Once all my stuff was brought in, we went to the kitchen, where Jan said he’d make us a late lunch. I felt a little awkward letting him serve me right away, but since I wasn’t familiar with the house yet, I figured I’d explore the kitchen later so I could take over next time. I firmly decided to make a point of NOT being a parasite that Eternal allowed me to be.
Jan quickly whipped up a simple but delicious lunch: toast with homemade cranberry jam, hard-boiled eggs with a creamy parsley-horseradish sauce, and fried Penny Bun mushrooms. When I saw those mushrooms, I gaped.
Jan explained he was an avid mushroom forager with extensive knowledge of edible varieties. Having grown up in the city on nothing but button mushrooms, I was amazed. I’d heard forest mushrooms tasted better, but wow—the scent alone was heavenly. Rich, savory, and intensely fragrant.
I devoured everything, feeling like I’d stumbled into food paradise. I thanked him with a big grin, realizing it had been a while since I’d smiled so much. My face almost ached from the unfamiliar effort. But I noticed smiling seemed to come easily to Jan—maybe working so close to nature helped keep his spirits up?
During lunch, the dogs stayed by my side, and the cats wandered in, their long tails brushing against my legs.
Afterward, Jan suggested we take a tour of his plantation. Max and Buddy tagged along as we walked among the trees, with Jan pointing out the different varieties. He had rare European species I’d never even heard of.
He explained the effort it took to maintain them, especially when pests appeared, though he avoided spraying whenever possible. Eco-friendly practices mattered to him.
Near the house, he also had two greenhouses filled with interesting plants and everyday vegetables. I wondered how he managed it all, but the answer was clear—being single, only work filled his free time and kept him going.
Throughout our walk, I felt the strong, calming energy he exuded, and I found myself increasingly drawn to him. He radiated a certain poise, something… reassuring. It was exactly what I had been missing in my chaotic and nervous life, with everything that had happened in my past weighing heavily on me.
Now, perhaps I could find a safe haven for myself with him, and one day maybe… even in his arms?
That thought stirred mixed feelings. I glanced at him, noting again how solidly built he was—like a stone golem compared to my bony, fragile frame. His flat stomach and perfectly toned biceps… I quickly tore my gaze away, clearing my throat. On one hand, it reminded me of what I’d shared with Nico, but on the other, it stirred fear—memories of what had happened at the Fergusons’ house.
Uh, I quickly pushed the trauma aside. For now, my relationship with Jan wasn’t heading in ‘that’ direction, not anytime soon, so I didn’t have to face those emotions yet.
When we returned home, he mentioned having a few orders from his website that needed to be prepared for shipping, so I immediately offered to help, which he gratefully accepted. As we packed the plants, Jan smiled and said it took half the time it usually did. He sincerely thanked me, and I felt a small glow of accomplishment.
That evening, we went to the pond, again taking the dogs along. There were two stone benches and a small wooden table by the shore. Jan placed cushions on the benches, and we sat there for a while, gazing at the water.
He opened up about his parents, both of whom had passed away within a short period. His omega dad had died of sepsis after an appendectomy, and his alpha father suffered a heart attack just a few months later. Afterward, his uncle Frank took care of him while his two older brothers were already in college.
I didn’t say much, hesitant to bring up anything about Nico. I didn’t want to dredge up the past unnecessarily—it would only reopen old wounds and spoil the peaceful mood. Besides, talking about exes on the first day with a new partner was just a bad idea.
When night fell, we headed back and I finally started unpacking my things. While doing it, I paused in front of the pile of nest-building materials. Sure, I had plenty of my own favorites that I always used, but these new ones caught my attention. I picked up a delicate, thin blanket—more like a light blue scarf. Its touch was incredibly soft and fluffy. I stood there, rolling it between my fingers, enjoying the texture, when something else caught my eye.
Among the pillows were two unexpected items: a hoodie and a wool sweater. They had to be Jan’s! I blinked in surprise. Maybe he thought I’d use them to build my nest? It was common for omegas to add their partner’s clothes to their nests. But did he assume too much—that I would even want to use his personal stuff? That required closeness, an established relationship…
A strange wave washed over me—part irritation, part sentimentality. Did he want to intrude on something so private? Or was it touching that he was trying to connect in his own way? I wasn’t sure what to feel, so I left his clothes aside for now, not ready to use them. I didn’t know him well enough to build ‘him’ into my safe place. But the colorful items… I smiled. Those would definitely come in handy.
When there was time to sleep, we went to bed in separate rooms. Jan wished me pleasant dreams before retreating to his own bedroom.
In the meantime, both cats slipped into my room. Milky, the white one, jumped onto my bed and stayed there. It was a comforting sight and a welcome presence.
◆◆◆
The next day was a busy one. A guy with a tractor loaded with wood chips showed up at Jan's property. My new husband planned to use them to mulch the roots of the blueberry seedlings. Meanwhile, I focused on my work—promoting my authors' books in a few groups and preparing two new videos for book launch parties. Fuzz and Milky kept me company.
As lunchtime approached, I went downstairs, determined to fix some food for Jan—homemade fries as the main attraction. Then I walked out of the building and found him in one of the greenhouses, weeding. He looked surprised when he saw me approaching, the dogs trotting alongside me.
"Hey, I’ve prepared lunch. Maybe you’d like to eat? You’ve been working since morning," I said, feeling a bit awkward. Daily interactions like this with another man were new to me.
My conversations with my parents were usually anything but light—they mostly revolved around their complaints, unwanted advice, and constant nagging about why I still hadn’t started looking for a new surrogacy contract. Not exactly fun. This was a much-needed change of tone.
Jan’s eyes widened slightly, but then he smiled—his lips forming a warm, genuine expression. He really was good at this, so much better than my unshapely grimaces. I tried to smile back, hoping mine matched his sincerity. It was strange how I seemed to instinctively know what he was feeling, sensing a pleasant, friendly energy emanating from deep within him.
"I can see my pets have already accepted you. The cats even slept in your room," Jan mentioned as we headed back to the house.
"Yeah, they’re really cool and friendly."
"People say animals always recognize a good person and flock around them."
I didn’t respond, but my cheeks probably reddened at the compliment.
We had lunch together, and during the meal, Jan complained about the guy who delivered the wood chips. He said the man had overcharged him by 20% compared to last time, and the quality of the chips was worse. Jan grumbled that next time he’d hire someone else.
Oddly enough, this small, trivial conversation about everyday life filled me with a strange kind of pleasure. It gave me a glimpse into a peaceful, country life.
Carrying other people’s children in my womb, often living in their mansions, feeling like an intruder and then like something unnecessary—an incubator they discarded the moment they left with the baby… That had been my life before. From one child to the next, following different diets imposed by the parents—some wanted a vegetarian baby from the start, others insisted on pumping me full of vitamins. My body wasn’t mine; it was ‘rented.’
With each birth, I lost a piece of my soul. They’d take the baby in their arms and stop looking at me. They’d leave the hospital without so much as a goodbye, let alone holiday greetings. Unnecessary. That’s how I felt once I’d served my purpose.
Now I wanted… an ordinary, even boring life. Talking about wood chips and packing shipments, smiling as the tasty Penny Bun mushrooms sizzled on the pan. The kind of daily routine I could have with Jan. And what might seem to others like a very dull existence… was, in fact, my dream life.
The question remained: Was I really ready to start it?