66. Jack
Jack
I love this store. The Nest Store, as it’s so aptly called, has everything an omega or a full pack could wish for in their nest. It spans several football fields layered across multiple floors.
Every few feet are nest displays already set up so you can see exactly how each piece, each product, or each palette will look.
Most nests follow the standard round-room, recessed-area layout, so it’s easy to envision each setup as your own.
I’m excited to help Clara pick out exactly what will make her happy.
These are the kinds of things I’ve always thrived on—not security and hacking.
Building spaces and cozy corners where my family can thrive and decompress.
Filling those spaces with soft cushions, good food, and warmth.
That’s where my heart lies. I know what I’d like to do. Would my pack support me?
I look around. Dagan’s squinting against the fluorescent lights.
Victor is holding a particularly rough-looking pillow like it’s something gross or dead.
Bram is holding our girl’s hand and nodding as she points to a hanging plant in one of the displays and explains exactly what it is and why it’s good for the nest area.
My heart says they’d support me in anything I wanted to do, but a gruff voice in the back of my mind says they’ll think less of me.
That what I want is for omegas, not alphas.
I love my father, but I wish he hadn’t created that voice for me.
I wish I could live my life my way without it nattering in the background.
I gently push it away, just as my therapist taught me.
We wander the store, and as Clara makes her choices, I take note of them on the tablet handed to us by the staff. When we get to the end, Clara tries to peek at the total, but we don’t let her.
“You’re part of our pack now, Clara. You’re our mate. What’s ours is yours,” I explain, and everyone nods.
Clara bites her lip but nods at our insistence.
We head home, feeling more like a full unit than ever before.