ALEX #7
Well, I’m not sure if there is even space to discuss it. My relationship with Blue is always saturated with conversations about my health and test results, and we rarely touch on anything personal.
During the last four years, I’ve been invited to his home a few times for short holiday dinners, but I’ve never met any other member of the Lowen family there.
Also… throughout all these years Sebastien hasn’t invited me to his home or introduced me to his family, even though we do see each other from time to time and always end up having nice conversations. Still, we don’t touch the topic of my potential future interactions with his other sons.
Yes, I know he told them they have a brother. But from what Blue muttered under his breath in a kind of half-admission, Sebastien’s two older sons, the ones from Rhys, were pretty upset about my existence.
The younger ones, from Sebastien’s True Mate, were more accepting of me, but still not exactly eager to meet me.
According to Blue, Sebastien is working on them slowly, mentioning me here and there, especially around the holidays.
He keeps reminding them that they have another brother who is excluded from the family, and in a way, drop by drop, he’s trying to weigh on their conscience.
I am therefore still completely on the sidelines of the Lowen family. For that reason, I do not feel close enough to my relatives to engage in more personal or intrusive conversations, or offer suggestions, even though I am very tempted to do so right now.
"So, are we taking the higher dose?" Blue interrupts my thoughts.
Okay, back to business.
"Yes, yes." I am optimistic about the increased dose, so I nod eagerly, but an hour later I bitterly regret what I agreed to.
Blue is, of course, no longer here, and I am alone with the nurse. I throw up several times and feel so sick that I doubt I will be able to walk to an Uber on my own feet.
The nurse suggests I call someone from the family who can help me get myself together and into a car, but I have no one like that. The only person who comes to mind is… Bay.
My head is spinning and I cannot move, so in some moment of madness I decide to text him.
"Hey Bay, I wanted to ask you for help, I had an increased dose of medication today and I’m feeling really bad, would you be able to drive over and help me get home? Here is the address of the Malden facility where I am staying."
I wait about ten minutes, nervously chewing my lips, before a text finally arrives.
"I’m sending help. My brother will be there in ten minutes. I’m unfortunately at the recording studio session, but I think this person will make sure you get home safely."
I stare at the message for a moment, feeling a sharp wave of disappointment. I hoped Bay would show up in person, because deep down I want us to start rebuilding our closeness. Yes, it is kind of him to arrange someone this quickly, but it was him I was waiting for. Eh…
Indeed, about twelve minutes later Bay’s brother walks into the waiting room, the beta, Winter.
I remember him perfectly. I played multiple chess matches against him, and out of the entire Nolan family he gave me the most trouble.
Sometimes I genuinely doubted whether, despite all my knowledge and experience, I would manage to beat him, which earned him my respect, because after all, he was a natural without knowledge or practice comparable to mine.
Winter has also changed over the years since I last saw him. He is much more muscular now, really solid. The Nolan men are all very well built, even their only beta brother, though his face remains as impassive and neutral as always.
He greets me politely, but his tone remains exactly that: civil yet indifferent. I find out from him that he lives very close to me, roughly halfway between the facility where I undergo therapy and my home, and he kindly offers that if I ever need a ride, he can give me one.
The nurse places me in a special wheelchair for patients who are feeling worse, and Winter takes me out to the parking lot.
The moment I have to get out of the wheelchair is awkward, because I need to give Winter my hand for a moment.
I expect the unpleasant sensation I always feel when people touch me, greater or lesser depending on who it is.
It usually ranges from an unpleasant burning with alphas to a mild sting with betas to something almost neutral, but still unwelcome with omegas.
To my surprise, this time I feel nothing unpleasant at all, no burning for sure. Winter’s cool, firm hand helps me stand and then, he practically lifts me, and gets me into the car, settling me into the passenger seat.
I appreciate Bay’s choice. While we drive to my home, Winter is not nosy at all. He does not ask anything that could stress me, he does not try to find out whether something is happening between me and Bay again, he does not try to get any gossip out of me.
So it is me who initiates the conversation. I ask him how it is working with Jacob Lowen. I never had the chance to meet this uncle of mine, but I know Winter has been working with him since his college days.
I remember well that years ago he once said Jacob seemed secretly interested in him, and now that memory feels somewhat… significant.
It might further confirm some kind of deep genetic compatibility between our families, but of course I do not delve into this, since it would not be tactful.
So we stay with conversations about company projects and plans that are connected to Blue’s projects.
It turns out Jacob’s company is preparing an application for one of Blue’s research projects, so we talk about that for a while.
Then I say goodbye to Winter and go to my bed.
As I lie there, miserable in my small, cobbled-together nest, I kinda start wondering why I never developed any real nesting habits, beyond what I did during those few happy months living in Bay’s tiny house.
Logically, I should have kept going, especially after the breakup, if only to help my mental state.
Nests are supposed to soothe and calm omegas, but it just didn’t materialize for me.
I stopped, and never went back to building anything solid or intricate, and for sure I never soaked it with my wrist-gland pheromones.
That instinct, which woke up back then with Bay at my side, simply faded when he vanished from my life and I don’t get why. It feels like the opposite should have happened. I should be nesting more robustly, seeking refuge inside the structure, but no.
Thinking about it alone makes me tired. Today I’m too weak to dig into it properly, so I leave it for later.
Fortunately, my condition improves slightly in the evening, and in the morning it is already bearable.
When I am relaxing in bed the next morning, recovering my strength and playing a pleasant game of chess on my tablet, I hear knocking at the door.
I always react nervously when I hear the sound, so I jump up and run downstairs with that familiar anxious shiver. I glance at the intercom and cannot believe my own eyes.
I quickly open the door.
Jared is standing there with little Tommy on his shoulder.
His eyes are shadowed, one clearly bruised, his face swollen. I feel the urge to curse under my breath.
Little Tommy is clinging to his shoulder with his tiny arms, but thankfully he brightens a bit when he sees me.
"Oh my goodness, Jared, what happened!"
"Haven’t you read the news? It’s over," Jared whispers as he walks inside. Only then do I notice the suitcases standing behind him and I blink in confusion, but still, I grab them and pull inside, then shut the door.
Jared looks like he is about to collapse to the floor, so I quickly lift little Tommy from his arms.
"Hey, sit down and tell me what happened…"
Tommy fortunately remembers me, we saw each other barely a month ago.
Jared sinks onto the sofa, but he looks like he might slide off it at any moment.
"Mark was arrested. He’s in holding right now. There are serious charges against him, rapes of multiple omegas, sexual exploitation of coworkers, harassment…"
I quickly set Tommy down on the big pouf in the corner by the window. He loved it during his last visit and immediately starts bouncing on it. A child his age needs so little.
Jared continues, "He hid it from me all these years, I had no idea about any of those situations.
Yes, I took the beatings, but I could somehow deal with that, yet this…
this is simply too much. His political career is over, he will go to prison for years, everything has collapsed, and I am left with nothing. "
"I don’t understand. How with nothing? You were his husband for five years, you have a child, surely you are entitled to something legally."
"We signed a prenup stating I would not claim any right to his assets."
"For heaven's sake, what about Tommy?"
"From what my lawyer says, the most I can get is five thousand a month from Mark’s shares in the company he owns, but his personal assets will go toward compensation for his victims. His brother owns half the company and he will be the one paying the money, but I personally will get nothing."
I exhale in relief. "My goodness, Jared," I sigh. "Five thousand is not that bad, you will be able to survive on that even in the city. I literally lived on six hundred dollars after I stopped accepting money from Bay, and I still managed to feed myself, though very modestly."
"Maybe I sound spoiled," Jared whispers, "and maybe people will think I got used to a certain lifestyle, but this is mostly about wanting to give Tommy a safe life, and for that I need money.
I am terrified of what will happen now, I fear that the people from my past will appear again, that they will threaten me, that they will knock on my door and I will not be able to escape.
And without money, real money, I will be their victim. "
I fall silent for a moment.