Chapter 23 Jae
JAE
Papa and Appa had not gotten any better at using FaceTime.
“Appa, you have to disconnect it from your hearing aid,” Lucien explained carefully for the third time. “Remember? Swipe down from the top until you get to the control panel.”
“Huh?”
“Why can’t I hear them?” The screen crackled and went dark as we took a journey into Papa’s ear canal. Mercer crossed his arms and shut his eyes, probably wishing he was unconscious instead.
Luckily, Summer didn’t have to witness this. After dinner, she had staked her claim on the bathroom for the rest of the evening, explaining that she was going to take an “everything” shower, whatever that meant.
After Lucien wiped years off his life talking Appa through switching the audio source, we gave them a nice tour of the progress on the house.
“You managed to keep the original light fixtures in the hall,” Papa commented, pleased.
“We got an electrician in to update the wiring and bulbs. Added downlights, too, so you’re no longer blind as a bat in here,” Mercer said, flicking them on.
“It’s looking great,” Appa said sincerely. “I’ve found a real estate agency with good local knowledge and recent sales in the area. I thought it was worth starting the process now. No need to waste any time, right?”
“Send the details to me, Appa,” Lucien volunteered.
An unsettling leaden sensation coalesced in my gut. I didn’t get it. Wasn’t I was supposed to be happy about selling the house?
After the call, I needed to go for a walk. There was a buzz under my skin. Discordant notes like tinnitus. I breathed the still evening air, hoping it would ease the nameless discomfort.
My hopes to grab a sneaky late-night dessert were dashed by the darkened storefronts. Damn. I kept forgetting about this part of small-town life.
I can’t even fucking get a burger at nine p.m.! People spend weeks debating the new paint color of the community center, and I’m supposed to act like I care. There’s so much more to this world, but I don’t get to see any of it. I’m suffocating here. Why can’t you see that?
The memory left a sticky black residue across my heart.
I couldn’t even say how old I was when that one happened.
All Mom and the dads’ fights became a mess of scar tissue, Band-Aided by Lucien trying to come up with new reasons to shuffle us upstairs while our parents’ voices bounced off the walls.
They had versions of the same argument for years. Their bonds made things so complicated. Drove them to fight to stay together even when everything screamed at them to fall apart.
She’s our omega. What kind of alphas are you?
My fist balled remembering how Greg used to demean our dads.
Okay, we hear you. We can move. But we should at least wait for Jae to finish high school. I know it’s a few more years but—
Appa tried his best to consider everyone. It was the final nail in the coffin.
I’m done waiting. If you can’t feel how trapped I am in the bond, then why do we even have one?
She left with Greg the next day. And we moved away anyway because it hurt too much to stay. Ironic. Mom had gotten what she wanted, and she wasn’t there to see it.
I knew she hated the town, but I didn’t realize she wanted to leave every part of her old life behind.
Including us. Everything that came after sat in the shadow of that canon event.
It left me with a constant restlessness, never wanting to be in the same place for too long.
It was easier and safer to treat everything as temporary.
On the upside, all these unprocessed feelings really fueled my music.
“Hellooo!”
I blinked twice at the fairy light–adorned golf cart heading toward me. Stanley’s husband, Harry, was in the front seat and Marisol was beside him, a neon-orange cooler in her lap.
“Uh, yes? Hello?”
Harry came to a perfect stop next to me on the road. “Have you been affected by the power outage?”
“The what?”
Marisol was wielding a fancy paper fan, trying to keep cool. “The electrical grid is on the fritz because of the damn heat. Apparently we’ve been overloading it during the day. What are we supposed to do? Sweat and have frizzy hair?” she complained.
“You could always go bald like me.”
“Shush, Harry.” She covered his face with the fan and smiled widely at me. “That’s better. Logan and Lars are working on it, but everyone’s been milling outside their houses wondering when it’ll come back. So we’re bringing Popsicles around to help people stay cool.”
I held up my hands. “The house is fine. I don’t need one.”
But she already had a Popsicle stretched toward me. “Well, take one anyway, carino. I would give you three more to take home, but at this rate, they’ll melt before you get there.”
“No, this is more than enough,” I said hurriedly. “Thanks.”
“If you see anyone mad over not having power, you send them our way.” She finally lowered the fan to reveal Harry’s deadpan expression.
“So now I’m allowed to see?”
“Yes, when you are useful to me.” She patted the dash. “Come on, Harry, floor it. I can handle the g-force.”
Harry sighed. “If this ends in a fiery crash, tell them I was innocent,” he requested solemnly before revving off at a furious twelve miles per hour.
I stared down at the Popsicle, wondering why I was feeling so dumbfounded over it. Guess I got my late-night snack after all.
There was a small, portly silhouette on our front stoop as I trudged back toward the house.
Starlight Grove’s mayor was wandering among the cardboard boxes we hadn’t gotten around to breaking down yet.
Amber eyes perusing carefully, like he was at a buffet selecting his next morsel.
As I approached, he tornadoed headfirst into his chosen box.
“Hey, Felix. How’s your paw healing?” I asked when his head popped out. That had been a very powerful leap.
His pink nose scrunched and he tucked one of his sock paws behind the other. I could’ve sworn he looked embarrassed, but I was sure he wasn’t capable of that emotion.
“It’s late. You haven’t chosen a house for the night yet?” I gave him a tentative scratch behind his orange ear. “I’m sure Summer will let you snuggle in her nest.”
He tilted his head with an unspoken question for me.
“Oh no. I won’t be there,” I said quickly.
Felix’s pupils grew very large. Round like two planets. I could practically see myself in them. It was disconcerting. I felt compelled to explain further. “We’re not like that.”
The chemistry between Summer and me was undeniable. It was a relief that she wanted to enjoy it, too, without wanting more. As long as we both felt the same way, then no one would get hurt. No building resentment, no sudden change of expectations.
Packing up, bonding, all of it—the permanence was an illusion. It was better this way.
“What?” Felix’s stillness and lack of blinking was rattling me. “It’s what we both want.”
His chin raised haughtily.
I was weighed. Measured. Probably found wanting.
His cross little meow cut through my wallowing. To my surprise, he jumped out of his box, padded toward the door, and pressed his front paw against it.
“You’re coming in? For…Summer’s nest?” I guessed.
Felix made a disgruntled huffing noise. He wove around my legs and headbutted my shin.
“My room?” I asked, feeling stupid. I’d been chosen? Felix plonked himself on the welcome mat. Any day now , the sharp flick of his tail seemed to say.
I opened the door and let him in, unsure of what he saw in me.