Epilogue
Laz
It’s been nearly two years, and I still haven’t gone into heat.
I have had spikes, though. Sometimes I’ll have clusters of them for a day or two, and sometimes I’ll go months without any.
The doctors have all assured me that it’s normal, and I still might go into heat someday.
They have cautioned that when I do, it has the potential to be either mild or incredibly intense and come on without warning.
I’ve gotten to a point of acceptance instead of apprehension or expectation.
If it happens, it happens. Having a regular heat cycle again won’t make or break my life.
I love my life now. I love Brooks, and he loves me. He doesn’t care if I ever settle into a regular heat cycle.
I spent a few months agonizing over it. No heat cycle means no babies.
I was miserable while I worked through it, and it took Brooks’s constant reassurance to finally make me understand that my value doesn’t begin and end with my ability to provide him with a bunch of babies.
I was so hung up on the idea that I wasn’t a real Omega if I couldn't have kids that it was making me doubt everything about myself. Brooks fought for me then, just like he always has and always will. Besides, I can still have a whole gaggle of babies; they just won’t be biological.
There are enough kids who have been left without parents for one reason or another that I could fill our house with them.
We met with an agency last week, but honestly, we could just as easily go down to the wharf or down a few alleys in the city and bring home a kid or two who needs a home.
Brooks was flustered but not opposed. He said it almost makes sense for us to do something like that, and we could always do both.
Mrs. Richards would be ecstatic if we filled the house with kids.
The only thing that I really worry about anymore is Kris’s old clients.
Every now and then I get the feeling that someone is watching us, or I might catch a glimpse of someone from my past and then fear and dread roll in like a heavy, dark cloud.
Brooks isn’t worried, though. Every single time it happens, he tells me that he will take care of me and that he has everything handled.
I have heard him on the phone a few times speaking to someone named Dana after I actually see someone.
I think they’re a detective or an informant.
Brooks talks to Dana and then he has a meeting a few days later.
I know what he’s doing, and I love him for it.
I’m happy. I’m full. My life is proof that everything can be so bad, the worst you could ever imagine, but hope is still there.
Happiness is still an option. You have to work for it, but you can have it.
And I have worked. Brooks and I have both worked so hard for our life together, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of it looks like.