Chapter 14 Jonah
Oh no. He does not get to do that.
I stare at poor Mrs. Atkins who's had to deliver the news.
"There’s a summer house?" I repeat, making sure I heard correctly.
"Yes, Mr. Colborne. Mr. Alexander thought you both might benefit from some space. To think."
To think. Right. More like to drink and sulk.
"Thank you." I manage, keeping my voice steady despite the fury building in my chest.
She nods and retreats, leaving me alone in the library. Now he's run away to hide in some summer house I didn't even know existed on this massive estate.
Coward.
I pull out my phone and call home. Mom answers on the third ring.
"Twice in one day?" She sounds worried. "Jonah, what's wrong?"
"He moved out." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "We had an argument and he just... he moved to another house on the property. Won't even talk to me."
Silence. Then Dad's voice in the background, asking what's happening. There's muffled conversation before Mom comes back.
"Sweetheart, your father and I think... maybe you need some help. Both of you."
"Pastor David could help," Dad's voice comes through—he must be on speaker now. "He's counseled many couples through difficult times. He understands the sanctity of marriage, what it takes to make it work."
Pastor David. Who called him a sinner at our wedding. This should go well.
But what other choice do I have? I can't fix this alone, and Alex clearly has no intention of trying.
"I'll call him," I say.
Two hours later, Pastor David sits across from me in the main house's formal living room, looking deeply uncomfortable on the silk-upholstered furniture.
“Welcome, Pastor. I could really do with your advice."
He takes in the room with obvious distaste—the crystal chandeliers, the general excess of it all. "This is... quite a place."
"It's too much," I admit. "Everything here is too much."
"Including your husband?" His eyes are sharp despite his age.
I sink into the chair across from him. "I don't know what to do. We're so different. He doesn't want children. And now he's moved out—there's another house on the property, apparently, and he's just... hiding there."
"He moved out?" Pastor David's disapproval deepens. "Without discussing it with you?"
"He had someone tell me. Couldn't even face me himself."
"And you're here, alone in this... monument to excess."
I nod, throat tight. "I know I should submit to my alpha's decisions, but how can I when he won't even make them? When he runs away instead of leading?"
"Have you asked him to attend counseling?"
"He'd just say no, Pastor."
"You haven't asked your alpha's permission for me to be here?"
The question makes me flush. "No. I’m sorry. I know that was wrong... I just needed guidance."
Pastor David stands. "I understand. You were right to come to me. An omega should not have to seek his alpha’s permission to save his marriage. Where is this summer house?"
Two minutes later, we're walking through the estate grounds toward the lake. I can see the summer house through the trees.
"This is all his?" Pastor David asks, taking in the endless grounds.
"His family's. For generations."
"Wealth like this corrupts the soul. No wonder he's lost."
We climb the porch steps. I can hear music from inside—something jazzy and mellow. I knock, probably harder than necessary.
"Thanks Mrs. Atkins, but I’m fine." Alex's voice calls from inside. "I don't need anything!"
I knock again, harder.
Footsteps approach. The door yanks open.
"I said—" Alex stops mid-sentence, taking in me and Pastor David. He's in jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot, holding a crystal tumbler. His eyes are slightly glassy.
"Oh, fuck no," he says.
"Language," Pastor David says evenly.
Alex looks at him and bursts out laughing, then he honest to God sticks out his tongue at Pastor David then sings, “Fuckety-fuck-fuck-fuck.”
I don’t look at Pastor David’s face. I don’t dare.
“Alex, Pastor David is here to help us. We need counselling.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “From him? In my house?"
"Our house," I correct. "We're married, remember? Or did you forget that when you ran away?"
"I didn't run away. I relocated. There's a difference."
"The difference being?"
"About two hundred yards and a lot less fighting."
Pastor David clears his throat. "Mr. Colborne, I'm here to help you both navigate these difficult early days of marriage."
Alex laughs, actually laughs. "You called me the devil at my own wedding."
"I called you a sinner in need of salvation. Which you are."
"Barely." Alex takes a long sip from his tumbler, then steps back. "Fine. Come in. Let's get this over with."
The summer house's interior is as beautifully decorated as the main house, with as little personality. Alex drops onto a couch, legs spread wide. He looks the picture of alpha arrogance.
I sit carefully on a chair across from him, hyperaware of his scent underneath all the whiskey.
Pastor David remains standing, looking down at both of us. "Marriage is a sacred covenant—"
"Is this the part where you tell me I'm going to hell again?" Alex interrupts. "Because that’s not going to get us far."
"Alex," I warn.
"What?" He toasts Pastor David with his glass. "Good luck with that, Padre."
"I'm here," Pastor David says with strained patience, "because your omega asked for help. Because despite your behavior, he's trying to honor his vows."
"His vows to honor and obey?" Alex's eyes find mine, challenging. "How's that working out, church mouse? Feeling properly submissive?"
Heat flares in my cheeks.
"Don't call me that."
"Why?" He downs the drink then gets up to refill his glass from a half empty whiskey bottle on the side board. “Little, little mouse,” he sings, then he grins. “Bossy little mouse with a big bite.”
I suppose in some ways I’m glad he’s drunk and being a jerk. Pastor David can see what I’m dealing with.
Still, he was half-conciliatory this morning. I can’t help thinking this would go better if he were sober.
He slumps back into his chair and raises his glass as if toasting us. He looks Pastor David up and down, then curls his lip.
“I’m guessing you’re the reason my little church mouse is so prissy. You’d both be happier if you’d just unclench a little.”
“Alex, I am trying to make this work.”
“By bringing this guy? Please.”
I stop, take a breath. "If you don't participate in this counseling, I'm going home."
“Lol, no you won’t.”
"You heard me. I'll go back to my parents. I don’t care about the media thinks."
"You wouldn't. You don't believe in divorce."
"I don't," I correct. "And I won’t divorce you, but if you’re not going to live with me, then I might as well live with people who actually care about me, instead of alone in an empty house."
We stare at each other. The tension between us is electric, all heat and fury and that ever-present chemistry that makes me want to climb into his lap and shut him up with my mouth.
This is the only threat I have. I know I’m not worldly but I do know that after the endless photo opps and journalists and magazine spreads and paparazzi that keeping them happy is something that Alex cares about.
Or at least Diana cares about it. Alex cares about keeping Diana happy so she doesn’t cut his party money.
"Fine," Alex says finally. "Counsel away, Pastor. Tell me how to be a good alpha. Tell me how to want children I'll definitely fuck up. Tell me how to believe in a God who took both my parents before I was eighteen."
The last part comes out different—raw, unexpected. Pastor David's expression shifts slightly.
"Loss can either bring us closer to God or push us away," he says, sitting finally. "You chose distance."
"I chose reality. No magical sky daddy was going to bring them back."
"Alex!"
"What? You wanted honesty in counseling, right? Here's honest: I think your Pastor is about control. I think you've been brainwashed since birth to accept a narrow worldview that makes you feel safe but keeps you small."
"And I think you use alcohol and sarcasm to avoid feeling anything real," I shoot back. "I think you're so terrified of responsibility that you'd rather live alone than even try to be a husband."
"Maybe I am. But at least I admit it. You can't even admit that your precious Pastor here gets off on controlling people's lives."
"I guide them," Pastor David interjects.
"That’s hilarious,” Alex says but he’s not laughing. He leans forward, pointing a finger at Pastor David. “Tell me, Pastor, what would happen if Jonah decided he wanted to work? Have a career? Make his own money?"
"It’s natural for an omega to be at home. He’ll be happiest as a homemaker."
"See?" Alex spreads his hands. "Control."
"Structure," Pastor David corrects. "Society functions when everyone has what they need."
Alex drains his glass, stands to pour another. The whiskey sloshes as he pours, his hands not quite steady. “You keep telling yourself that. No, not yourself. Everyone else. Don’t let them think for themselves.”
Pastor David frowns. "You have a beautiful, faithful omega who deserves better than this. You need to be a better alpha for him."
"He deserves better?" Alex whirls around, whiskey sloshing. "You mean someone who won't corrupt him with evil thoughts about actually enjoying sex. Someone who doesn't make him so wet he can barely stand it just from looking—"
"Alexander!" Pastor David thunders.
But Alex isn't done. "What? We're being honest, right? Your precious innocent omega spent three days of his heat riding my cock like he was training for the Olympics. Is that the kind of truth you want in counseling, Pastor?"
My face burns. Pastor David looks like he might have a stroke.
"You're drunk," I say quietly.
"So what? I'm honest. Something you two wouldn't recognize if it bit you on the ass."
“I am honest. I have never lied to you,” I say. This is going so badly. Maybe I need to ask the pastor to come back another time when Alex has sobered up. If he ever does. “I want to make the marriage work.”