Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
OLIVIA
We spend the days after my heat ends snuggling and watching movies and eating anything and everything in sight.
I’ve kept my phone off, and it’s been so nice to withdraw from the world and its demands for a while, even if I am starting to grow anxious to get back to the lab.
I have a couple of days left of my heat leave from work, and the only people—outside of Nigel, Henry, and Verity—that I’d want to talk to are in this cute little house that’s begun to feel like home.
“Here you go, sweetness.” Wilder sets a bowl of ice cream in my hands with a wink before flopping down onto the couch beside me. We’re being very adult and eating ice cream for breakfast. When it’s almost noon.
Humming around the first delicious bite, I let my mind wander to the future and what it holds.
“What’re you thinking about so hard, Ms. Flynn?” Sawyer asks me playfully from his spot at the end of the couch.
Olivia Flynn. I thought it would take some getting used to, but it feels right.
Now that we’re officially mated, I can leave the Wellington name—and my parents—behind.
That is, once we’ve completed the official name change.
The government certainly puts a damper on love, with all their paperwork and taxes.
Regardless of the government’s machinations, I’m ready to move in.
I’m hoping I can sneak into my parents’ house while my mom is away at her weekly Omega Social Club lunch.
I have no intention of telling her or my dads that I’m mated until I speak with Henry first. I need him there with me, on my side.
Although I don’t care what my parents think about my choice of pack, that doesn’t mean just imagining their reactions doesn’t give me hives.
“Baby?” Sawyer’s voice is soft but concerned.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about going to my parents’ house. I need to pack my things. I didn’t pack any professional clothes for work in my bag.”
Liam frowns, all too familiar with my mother, at least by reputation. “You don’t need to do that. We can take care of everything. We’re your mates, after all. It’s our job to take care of you now.”
My sweet Liam. They would do it too, I know they would. But I don’t plan to take everything. So much of my closet is full of things my mother insisted I wear, and I no longer need to appease her. I only want to bring things that are meaningful and only the clothes I like.
“I need to do this. I promise, I won’t be gone long, and my mom won’t even be home.” That knowledge soothes some of the churning in my gut. Fighting with my mom is my idea of a nightmare.
“Are you sure?” Hayes asks.
I take a big bite of my ice cream and nod. “I’m sure. Plus, I want to leave a note for my dads.”
My mates watch me as I finish the last few bites of my ice cream and rise from the couch.
The bond is a riot of conflicting emotions.
Worry, anger on my behalf, sour concern.
They don’t like the idea of my leaving them, and I get it, but I’ll be in and out as quick as I can.
It shouldn’t take me more than an hour or two, and then I’ll be back here with my mates.
At my new home. Warmth rushes through me at the thought, and my mates respond through the bond, their happiness wrapping around mine in a bundle of heat.
Sawyer stands, pulling me into a hug and marking me with his scent. “I know you’re strong and capable, baby, but call if you need us, okay?”
“Okay.” Grinning, I brush a featherlight kiss over his lips. Then I grab my purse, dig out my keys, and open the door. “Be home soon. Do wait up.”
There’s a lightness to my steps I’ve never felt as I make my way to the car, then again as I unlock the door to my parents’ house.
This is the beginning of the rest of my life, and I have never been happier.
The bond tingles with awareness. We’re so far away, I can’t get a good read on what they’re thinking or feeling, but the connection tethers me to my newfound happiness.
This is really happening. Finally, someone loves me for who I am.
Burrowing my nose in the hoodie I stole—rather, borrowed—from Liam, I make a mental list of the things I need to pack.
I want to keep everything I brought home from London, and I’ll need to pack all of my work clothes.
I don’t own a ton of makeup, but what I do have is expensive.
Then there’s the stuffed bunny Sawyer won for me at a carnival when I was eight, and a few albums full of photos mostly of me and Henry.
There’s no way I’m leaving those behind.
Light as a feather, I float up the steps to my room.
“Olivia! Where have you been?”
My mother’s sharp tone slices through the stillness of the house, reverberating through the foyer, and stopping me dead in my tracks. My stomach drops and fills with acid. Of course, she’d be home. The universe must really hate me.
Fight and flight are often spoken about as if they’re the only two physiological stress responses when confronted with a perceived threat. But actually, there are four. The other two are fawning and freezing.
I’m not going to get into a physical altercation with my mother, and running will do no good. I still need to pack my things. So I freeze. And then I fawn.
“Oh, hi. You look nice. Shouldn’t you be out with your friends right now?”
My mother scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping a heel-clad toe on the floor.
“Yes, well, I’m running late, and it’s a good thing too.
Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been gone most of the week.
This is not a hotel, Olivia. This is a home, and I expect you to do more than simply sleep here. ”
My shoulders sag. She doesn’t realize I’ve been gone gone this week. She thinks I’ve been coming home to sleep. Do I really mean that little to her? She can’t even be bothered to check in on me?
“There’s been a lot going on at the lab, and I’ve been spending a lot of late nights—”
“Nevermind all that,” my mother says, cutting me off before I have to lie. Which is fortunate, because I’m a terrible liar. “Have you even checked your phone?”
Patting my jeans pocket, I blanch when I realize I don’t have my phone. I haven’t touched it all week. It’s likely dead and buried under a pile of pillows in my nest.
My mother rolls her eyes. “Of course you haven’t checked your phone. I swear, for someone so smart, you really are quite an airhead.”
Somehow, I manage to hold in my flinch. Her words hurt, but I won’t have to hear them after this. Not unless I choose to see her. I have a pack now. A beta and three alphas who love me and chose me and who’d never tell me I was an airhead. They’re family in a way she has never been.
When it’s clear I’m not going to respond, my mother sighs deeply and climbs the stairs. She grabs my arm when she gets to the top and starts tugging me to my room.
“If you’d have checked your phone like a responsible adult, you would have seen that Carrie was able to set up a dinner with an eligible pack.”
I frown. “She found a pack that meets my requirements?”
My mom scoffs at that, tilting her nose in the air. “Olivia, don’t be stupid. I told her you were being ridiculous and had her throw out your list. No, she found a pack suitable for your station.”
Suitable for my station. It’s my turn to scoff. “Mother, I’m not having dinner with some random pack.”
“You will. You are.” Her fingers dig into my arm, just shy of being painful. She pauses as we get to my room, and she inhales. Her nose wrinkles, and she looks at me with suspicion in her gaze. “Your scent, Olivia. What is that?”
Tugging out of her grasp, I chuckle nervously. I’m not telling her I’m mated right now. Not while we’re alone in this house and I’m without my phone. I wouldn’t be surprised if she locked me in my room like a naughty child if she found out.
“I haven’t showered in a couple of days. I’ve been so focused on work . . .”
The sneer my mother levels me with makes me a little weak in the knees, and I have to hold on to the doorframe. There’s always been disdain in her gaze, but I’ve never seen the hate. Or perhaps I’ve fooled myself into thinking that she might actually love me.
“Yes, well, thank goodness you have plenty of time to shower and get ready before Pack Whittier arrives. I’ve put a dress on your bed.
They will arrive at three o’clock, and I expect you to be ready and on your best behavior.
Henry and his pack will also be here. We need to show the Whittiers that you come from good stock, despite your . . . oddities.”
Ouch.
Oddities. It shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t.
Because I have a pack who loves me waiting at home.
Still, my stupid heart twists and spasms in my chest because this is what my mom thinks of me?
The woman who gave birth to me—the one person who should love me unconditionally—genuinely believes I’m not good enough the way I am.
Before I can open my mouth to protest, my mom levels me with a deadly glare.
“You will do as you're told, Olivia, or so help me.” She turns on her heel and storms down the stairs. I listen at my door, hoping she’ll leave for her lunch like normal, but she must know I’m hoping to escape, because when I creep down the hall and peer down the stairs, I watch as she settles onto the couch closest to the front door.
Being trapped in this house with her right now, all her cruel words pinging around in my head, makes my skin feel too tight.