Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
I migrate from the bathroom to the bedroom that looks eerily like mine after I’m sure Ivan is gone.
I’m getting hungry, but I don’t want to go out there yet. Facing the three of them will make this real, and I want to give Ivan a chance to help me say goodbye to Sax, like he said he would. I don’t know if it will help, but I don’t think it could hurt.
The TV, which had been idle on a screen with the show’s logo, pings and then flashes on about an hour after the Alpha leaves. Bridgette’s face fills it.
“Hi, Ariana.”
“Hey.”
She smiles kindly while holding her hand to her chest. “This has been a wild day, to say the least. How are you holding up?”
“Uh, I’m not. I cried on the floor of the bathroom for like three hours.”
“About that.” Her eyes dart to the left, like she’s looking at something off camera.
“The producers have asked that you have any heart-to-heart conversations as you and Ivan did earlier outside of the bathroom. Because you were at the door, the mics were able to pick up most of what you said, but obviously, it’s not going to be an ideal experience for our viewers at home.
We may have to double-check with you before airing to ensure that the subtitles are correct. ”
“Oh, yes, cannot forget the viewing experience when my life is falling apart, and I am in actual, physical danger of dying from the same illness that took my brother. My bad, producers. I forgot that your bottom dollar is the most important thing. Gotta crank these numbers up.”
“Ariana, that’s not fair.” Bridgette is right, of course.
She’s been nothing but kind to me, and I’m taking out my anger on her when she’s not the one who lied to me for years.
“We are concerned about your safety. We’ve already consulted with a physician who specializes in Forsaken Omega Syndrome.
I know you signed the waiver that we’re not liable in this situation, but we wanted to find out exactly what kind of risk we’re looking at here. ”
I hate to admit it, but that’s incredibly thoughtful of them. They knew what I was walking into, meeting with Alphas, and though they’re legally in the clear, they still care enough to do what they can to make me comfortable.
“What did they say?”
She twirls her dark hair around her finger. “A lot of things. They’re still doing some research, but the gist is that there’s no hard-and-fast exposure threshold for triggering FOS. And just because Calvin died from it doesn’t mean you’ll develop it at all, much less such a severe case.”
“But there is a genetic component to it. I did the research.”
“We’ll let you know when they get back to us with more information.” She clears her throat and sits a little straighter. She flips her hair off her shoulders and plasters a broad smile on her face.
Oh.
They’re not going to air any of that conversation. She just put on her TV face.
“Ariana, I have a phone call for you.”
I blink slowly, the conversational switch giving me a bit of whiplash.
“I didn’t think we could take calls from home?”
“The call is, as they say, coming from inside the house.” She titters girlishly as I roll my eyes. “We have arranged for you to have a call with Sax, as you and Ivan discussed. Are you ready?”
Ready? Hell no, I’m not ready. But I can understand why this is happening so fast.
They want me out of this room. They need me to interact more with the guys.
The first episode of Expected is always the interviews with the participants, the backstory, and it ends as soon as that door opens.
So I’m living in episode two right now, and reality television won’t work if I’m on the other side of the door.
“I suppose I have to be,” I answer after a beat. “Video?”
I’m momentarily self-conscious about what I must look like after so much crying. It’s not that I care what America is seeing, but I don’t want Sax to see me so upset.
Especially not when he’s the cause.
“Audio only, actually. I’ll patch the call in now. Bye, Ariana. I hope you get the answers you need.”
The TV flickers to an image of a phone, a sound wave hovering over it.
Then that familiar voice I love so much fills the room.
“Hi, Onion.”
“Sax.” Saying his name feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest. I know, logically, that this voice is the man who first walked through that door and is just feet away, but still.
Something about being here, in this room that looks so much like mine, hearing his voice, is helping.
“Are you doing okay, honey? You sound stressed out.”
His voice is a little strained, but that’s okay. It’s a strange situation.
“I am. I… we’re not going to be able to talk anymore.”
There’s a quiet beat before he answers me. “I know. I hate it. I’m sorry.” He sounds devastated, and the emotion choking his voice has tears running down my cheeks.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
“You’re incredible, Onion. There will be a learning curve to what comes next, but you’ve always been brilliant. You don’t need me.”
“I do. I do need you, Sax. I haven’t been the same since I lost Calvin. Who am I going to be once you’re gone, too?”
“Hey. Hey. You are more than your relationships, okay? You are not defined by the people around you. You were a whole person before you met me, and you’ll still be one when I’m gone.”
I brush the tears off my cheeks as I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah, sure. I’m so whole I cannot leave my house without devolving into panic.”
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m in a room that looks surprisingly like mine.”
“So, you’re not at home.”
“No, I mean-”
“And you’re not hysterical. You’re not a puddle of anxious Omega goo on the floor. You’re upset, for sure, but you are not falling apart.”
“My worst fear came to life, Sax. I scent matched a pack. Going back home isn’t going to unring that bell, as much as I wish it would. I want to be home more than anything right now, but it’s because I want to be home a week ago. I want to have never come on this show.”
Sax doesn’t say anything. The line is still, no sound bars moving with his breath or anything. When his voice comes back, it startles me a little in the quiet of the room.
“That sucks, Onion. I know that’s your biggest fear.
I’m sorry that you’ve been put in this position.
I wish I could tell you what to do. I wish I could tell you to give the pack a chance, but I can’t.
This is your life. You get to make the decisions here, and anyone who takes those from you is an asshole. ”
I’ve never been great at making decisions. I would always bend over backward for what everyone else wanted, ignoring my own needs. I was born a people pleaser.
“Can I ask one thing, honey?”
I nod, forgetting that he can’t see me. “Yeah.”
“What would Calvin want you to do?”
I inhale sharply, clutching my gut like I was punched. “I don’t…”
“I know. I know you don’t want to think about that. But maybe it’s time to open the letter?”
The letter.
The letter from Calvin’s estate attorney that I received at the will reading.
The letter I have carried with me since I was sixteen.
It’s beat up and crumbled from the years of handling, but I’ve never opened it. I’ve never been strong enough to read the last words I will ever have from my brother.
Once I read them, that’s it. There will be nothing new from Calvin.
My brother will officially be gone.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Can you stay on the phone with me?”
He sighs, and I know what he’s going to say. “I don’t think I can, Onion. I need you to know that I love you, okay? I should’ve told you sooner. I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you over the years. You have fundamentally changed me, and I will always love you, no matter what.”
This is goodbye. I know it is.
It’s not just goodbye to Sax, though. It’s goodbye to the girl I used to be. To all of the plans I had to keep myself safe, and my heart intact.
“I love you too, Sax. Always.”
The line goes dead.
A dreadful, pained sob escapes me, and I collapse into myself.
He’s gone.
Sax is gone.
It takes a while before my sobbing calms enough to sit up. My body aches like I ran a marathon, but I know it’s not over.
If I don’t do this now, I never will.
Every step to my bag is harder than the one before it, my legs weighed down with the realization of what I have to do. I stare at the front pocket of the bag where I tucked Calvin’s letter.
This is it.
This is the moment where the last new thing he will ever say to me is gone.
Everything from here on out will be in the past tense. Until now, I have clung to this letter as a way to keep him in the present and the future. Calvin still had things to say to me.
My hands are shaking as I smooth it onto the bedspread in front of me.
A sob bursts from my throat as I see the familiar handwriting.
My sweet Onion,
This fucking sucks.
I mean, I didn’t think dying would be pleasant, but this is worse than I thought it would be. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible if I had them by my side, but if I did, I wouldn’t be in this situation, would I?
The hardest part is seeing how much this hurts you. Mom and the dads, too, of course, but you’re so young. You have so much life left, and I’m not going to be there to see you live it. And that blows.
If I know you, and I do, because you’re the other half of my soul, you’re no longer sixteen.
If I had to guess, I’d say you’re nineteen?
Twenty? I’m sure it took you some time to heal enough to be able to handle a letter from me.
I hope you’re reading this before it’s too late. Before you miss your shot at happiness.
Meeting my pack was the best thing that ever happened to me. And I can say that, because I’m about to die, and nothing else is going to happen to me, so the votes have been tallied. I had a few incredible years with them. They loved me so much, so fiercely, that I forgot I ever once felt rejected.
All of those moments where I felt like I wasn’t enough went away the first time we kissed. I knew. I knew when I saw them across the room that they were mine. I didn’t have to catch their scent to tell me. My heart recognized theirs.
It wasn’t easy. Even true love has its struggles. The Beast may have turned into a man, but he still doesn’t have table manners. Even though we got into stupid arguments sometimes, and we had our struggles, there was honestly nothing that we couldn’t work through when we were in each other’s arms.
I know you think being an Omega sucks. I know that you’re probably going to resent it, and maybe even me, because if I weren’t an Omega, I’d still be alive right now.
And you’re not wrong to be upset. I’m sure seeing me like this has tainted your view of our designation.
But I don’t want your fear and anger to force you to forget all of the wonderful, beautiful things that have happened to me over my life because of my designation.
Look. I’m not going to tell you what to do, because there’s no way I’ll know, anyway. But if you could indulge me one more time and let me impart some brotherly wisdom to you, I’d appreciate it. Call it a dying man’s last wish. (Did you laugh at that? Has enough time passed?)
Do not run away from love because of me.
The idea that you’d give up on such a beautiful, fundamental joy of being human because of what is happening to me hurts.
I don’t want to be the reason why you don’t take risks.
I don’t want to be your excuse for hiding.
I don’t want to be the ghost that haunts your footsteps.
I want to be the reason why you take a chance on something. I want to be the reason why you follow your heart. I want to be the reason why you trust yourself enough to fall in love.
Please? Don’t let this be my legacy. Don’t let my dying be the most memorable thing about me. Remember me as the man who loved his Alphas so much that he would, and did, follow them into another life.
I love you, Ariana. I will always be with you.
Calvin
PS. Please forgive me.