Chapter 29
TRAVIS
“Good morning, Travis!” Maeve chirps. “I didn’t think you would be at the clinic.”
I didn’t think Maeve would be at the clinic, either. I had hoped she would be next door with Mari this early, performing their opening procedures for the day.
“I’m dropping off some supplies for Ivan,” I mutter, hoping she doesn’t look in the reusable bag on the counter. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, just wanted to see if Ivan wanted any coffee,” she says, her face flushing. “He’s pretty cool, huh?”
I shrug. Ivan is nice enough—and when I offered to bring the items for the cats, he said it would be a good idea.
But I don’t feel like explaining all of that to Maeve, who stands next to me. “What did you bring?”
“Nothing important. Your hair is red,” I observe, trying to change the subject.
She grins. “I was bored of the purple and stayed up all night doing it. I can’t wait for Blair to see it—oh, sorry.”
At the mention of my scent match, my dull headache turns into a throbbing one.
She’s not here.
She left.
Omega is gone.
This is the only way I can still be close to her. The contents in the bag are what keep me sane.
“Piper said she talked to her yesterday. So that has to be good, right?” Maeve continues. “Has she talked to you?”
I shake my head.
Blair hasn’t reached out, and only yesterday read the text message I sent her.
And every day since she left, I wonder if I made the right decision.
She asked for space, so I gave it to her.
I couldn’t force her to stay—it would only make her resent me.
“I miss her,” Maeve whispers.
I nod. “Me too.”
But miss isn’t the right word.
I crave her.
My lungs don’t fill all the way with air when she’s not near me.
Her scent haunts me, and the memory of her voice keeps filling my head.
If I see a flash of golden hair, I’m convinced it’s her.
Rowan and Ryland aren’t doing any better.
It’s a physical ache that doesn’t go away.
Her absence makes it difficult to eat, sleep, or function.
What I brought for Ivan in the bag is the only thing that’s helped at all.
Just like what Rowan and Ryland have been doing for the rescue helps keep them mostly sane.
“I wish she didn’t leave,” Maeve continues. “We’re her friends; all she had to do was talk to us. Doesn’t she understand no matter what it is, we would be there for her?”
I clench my jaw. “No, she doesn’t, yet,” I say. “But hopefully we can get her there.”
Maeve nods. “You’re good for her,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “How can you say that? You and I have barely talked.”
“Yeah, but I see how she’s been around you,” Maeve says, shrugging. “You’ve been her friend for a long time. She’s talked about you for over a year. You don’t talk a lot, but you care about her and want the best for her.”
I sigh.
“Also, I’m really sorry about your accident,” Maeve adds. “I’m glad you came out alright.”
“Me, too.”
The whiplash the first few days was bad; but after doing stretches and exercise meant to alleviate the pain, it’s improved.
It’s still a fucking miracle my pack came out of it uninjured.
Well, except for our hearts being ripped out from our chests.
“Blair’s insane for blaming herself,” Maeve mutters. “It’s ridiculous.”
“I wouldn’t call her insane,” I say. “Overly cautious, maybe. Scared.”
Maeve shrugs and crosses her arms. “Whatever. I just wish she’d come home.”
I study the young Omega and almost smile at the pout that crosses her lips. Blair cares about Maeve deeply, but I’m not sure if Maeve realizes it.
“She’s lucky to have a friend like you,” I say.
“Yeah, well, when she comes back, will you tell her that?” she says. “Because right now I kind of feel like chopped liver. Or cat food pate.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Do you even know when she’s coming back? Piper said she took off two weeks from the rescue. Did she take off two weeks at Scents?”
I nod. My shifts without her have been terrible. Rylee hasn’t stopped giving me sympathetic, pitiful looks, and neither has Quincy, the bar owner.
It’s as if they know something is wrong with Blair and it has to do with me.
Maeve opens her mouth to say something but snaps it shut when Ivan enters from the back room. He nods at me, then turns to Blair’s friend.
“Hey, Maeve,” he says warmly, his gaze focused on her. “What are you doing here?”
It doesn’t take much instinct to realize the Alpha in front of me is attracted to Maeve.
It takes no instinct at all the realize Maeve feels the same way, judging by the way her chamomile scent fills the room.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“I just wanted to say good morning,” she chirps. “And to be nosy and see what Travis brought you.” She nods to the bag, and I scowl.
It’s not her business, and I’m not looking forward to her reaction once she finds out the contents of the bag.
“That’s perfect timing,” Ivan says to me. “We’re fixing a lot of kittens today; this is better than just wrapping them in towels until they wake up.”
I shrug. “I had the extra fabric; it’s not a big deal.”
“It’s going to help a lot. We appreciate it.”
Maeve looks to me curiously. “The extra fabric?” she says slowly.
I remain silent, and before I can stop her, Maeve snatches the bag off the counter and riffles through it.
Her eyes widen.
“Oh,” she breathes.
“There’s hats in there and swaddling blankets,” I say as nonchalantly as possible. “Blair had mentioned that the rescue goes viral online when the cats dress up, and…I had some free time.”
Maeve pulls out the largest item in the bag and stares at it. “It’s you,” she murmurs, holding a dark blue blanket. “You’re the anonymous donor. It’s you?”
“His stuff is great, isn’t it?” Ivan adds. “We appreciate everything you do, Travis.”
I nod, while Maeve continues to stare at me, slack jawed.
“Please stop making that face at me,” I say, but her features only twist more.
“We’ve been getting donations for a year! It’s all been you? You? Travis?”
Ivan smiles at Maeve’s excitement, but I’m so uncomfortable I wish the floor would swallow me up.
“I don’t know about all of it, but some of the blankets you could say are from me,” I grunt.
To my horror, Maeve’s eyes fill with tears.
“For fuck’s sake, you don’t have to cry—”
“This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for the rescue!” she wails, and Ivan just smiles wider. “Why didn’t you tell us it was you? Does Blair at least know?”
I shake my head. “And you’re not going to tell her,” I confirm. “This isn’t some way to win her back; I’ve been doing this since before we got together. Helping the cats makes her happy.”
“Oh, my god. You really love her,” Maeve whispers.
“I have for a long time,” I grumble, shifting uncomfortably. “And stop looking at me like that.”
“You’re just a big old softie,” she continues. “Blair was right.”
“Yeah, Travis, you big old softie,” Ivan echoes.
“Keep it up, and you won’t get any more blankets,” I mutter.
But Maeve and Ivan just laugh together, and I try not to look too bitter as they enjoy each other’s company.
It only makes me miss Blair more.
“Okay, moment of truth,” Ivan says. “Let’s see how these work.”
A sleeping tuxedo kitten, reminiscent of Mervin, lies on its back while Ivan slowly swaddles the creature.
“We have ten appointments today, and I’ll keep an eye on them while they come out of anesthesia,” he says, placing the kitten gently on the table. “This is perfect for them post surgery. They’ll wake up comfortable and warm.”
“It’s like he’s a little cozy burrito,” Maeve sighs. “This is adorable. I have to post this on our account, now.”
“I can make more,” I tell Ivan.
“We’ll take as many as you can make. There are times where we do fifty appointments in one day. We can also use them after we give the kittens flea baths.”
I stare at the kitten who sleeps peacefully in the teal fabric. There’s not a care in the world on the feline’s face as, and a deep sense of warmth fills my chest.
Even if I can’t make Blair happy, at least I made a kitten happy.
“You’ve done a great thing,” Ivan says. “Seriously Travis, we appreciate all the help.”
I shrug. “Beats bartending,” I say.
“I need to learn to swaddle!” Maeve exclaims. “Especially when we do the kitten’s flea baths. These will help so much!” She pulls out the rest of the blankets in the bag while Ivan takes the swaddled kitten to the back of the clinic.
I watch Maeve marvel at each blanket I brought, and for a moment, not everything hurts as much.
That’s when I scent her.
It’s subtle at first.
There’s the lightest whiff of violets with a subtle note of sugar.
Gradually, it grows.
If Maeve notices, she doesn’t make it obvious, but every cell in my body screams Blair.
Scent match.
I think my mind is playing tricks on me, especially when I hear her voice.
“So, it’s been you this whole time, huh?” Her tone is joking, but it’s strained.
I hope that I haven’t lost my mind.
Maybe this is it.
Maybe my inner Alpha has resorted to hallucinations just to deal with her absence.
Hell, I’ve been stress-sewing kitten blankets, so who knows.
But I turn around, hoping that maybe I haven’t lost my last shreds of sanity.
Because standing behind me, as breathtaking as ever, is Blair.
I stop breathing.
“You didn’t tell me,” she murmurs, her eyes bright with wonder. “It’s been you the whole time.”
“I—”
Maeve throws herself into Blair’s arms, almost knocking her over. “You’re back! We missed you!”
Blair’s smile is pained and her eyes are glassy as she pats Maeve’s back. “Yup. I’m back. Missed you too, Maeve.”
It’s only been a week, but I could swear she’s lost weight. Her cheekbones are hollow, and dark circles surround her eyes.
I clench my hands into fists, forcing myself to stay still and not gather her into my arms and drag her away like a caveman.
“Can you believe it was Travis?” Maeve says as she pulls away from Blair. “It was him the whole time!” She points to me. “All the anonymous donations, the hats, the blankets…it was all him.”