Chapter 36 Eli
Eli
This is a lot. I appreciate that the house is beautiful.
That the music isn’t technically loud, the lighting is normal, everyone’s talking and no one’s shouting.
The mask is doing its job but it’s still a lot.
It feels like I’m in a mosh pit at a heavy metal concert.
My nerves are fried and I can’t stand one more piece of sensory input.
“Eli.” A soft voice behind me.
I turn, already bracing for someone to ask if I’m okay. It’s the worst question in the universe.
But it’s Winnie’s mom. Gentle eyes, warm cardigan, the kind of person who looks like she couldn’t hurt anyone.
“You look overloaded,” she says quietly. Quiet enough that no one else can hear. “There’s no judgment in that. It just means your brain is doing a lot of work.”
I swallow, trying not to flinch at the clatter of a dropped fork.
She nods toward the hallway. “I keep a guest room set aside for people who need a reset. I take patients in my home office and sometimes it’s necessary.
It has dimmable lighting, weighted blankets, and noise-canceling headphones.
Would that help, or would you prefer to stay where you can see Winnie? ”
The fact that she gives me a choice steadies me more than anything.
“Just—ten minutes,” I manage.
“Perfect. Ten minutes is a great reset window.” She gestures to the hall. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Ten minutes turns into an hour. I bury myself under that weighted blanket and doze off a little, my brain finally shutting down to get away. But when I get up, I feel more prepared to take on the space again.
Unfortunately, no one is in the house when I emerge.
I follow the sounds of light clinking and laughter to the sliding glass door.
I open it and find everyone seated at a long outdoor dining table on the patio.
Winnie smiles when she sees me and gestures me over.
No one stares at me or asks where I’ve been.
I don’t know if that’s Winnie’s doing or her mother’s, but I’m grateful.
The pack is seated all around her, but there’s an empty chair next to her and she pats it, indicating it’s for me.
My pack silently passes me food while they continue their conversation. I lower my mask enough to eat. Something I could not have managed before the reset.
The acceptance chokes me up a little, and I lean down toward Winnie, scent marking her cheek with the exposed ridge of my nose. She inhales lightly. Her face turns toward mine, and I can see her eyes searching around my face. I know what her omega is looking for.
I tug down on my jacket with one hand exposing that side of the long column of my throat. She leans up, using my bicep for leverage, and nuzzles in, scent marking me.
Normally public touching really freaks me out, but in this house, filled with so many people and yet not one of them judging me or making me feel freakish, it’s actually okay. Good, even.
Three sets of tiny eyes are staring at me when I look back. I stiffen. Kids tend to have the most to say about the mask situation.
But instead of some comment about me looking like death or the devil, the smallest girl asks, “Are you our uncle now?”
Winnie chokes on a forkful of food. The other guys just chuckle.
I look into Winnie’s beautiful dark eyes and her freckled, crinkled smile, and I can’t imagine being anything else.
“Yeah, kid. I am.”