ALEX #3
The next week is especially packed with sex, and we rediscover each other piece by piece.
We spend long hours in bed, making love slow, wild, tender, or just fucking like rabbits everywhere, on the kitchen counter, the table, the stairs, the windowsill or on the floor.
I feel something inside me unlocking, like a tight spiral coming undone, everything buried for so long rising back to the surface.
Every day I wake up feeling this rising current in my body, charging my energy and my libido, and I immediately jump onto his dick, eager to start again.
Once, my sexual temperament meant I needed five to seven smaller orgasms one after another to feel satisfied. Now I still need several, at least three, but they feel deeper, longer, more mature. I used to worry Bay wouldn’t be able to keep up, but I underestimated him.
We’re in perfect sync, another proof of our True Mate Bond.
There is one more day that is especially difficult for me, the day Bay lets me read his diary from the last ten years. I read it in a state that feels like a fever.
In shock, I turn the pages, finding entries like this:
"I follow him whenever I am not working.
I watch his slight frame from a distance.
He is terrified, slipping across the campus like a hunted animal, hunched in on himself, miserable, and I hate that I am not with him.
I should be! He should be mine to care for, to protect.
And the only thing I can give him is this secret guardianship he does not even know about.
So we both suffer, submerged in shadows, hidden behind masks. "
Then:
"Today I felt a wave of unease. Dark shadows gathered around me, and I knew Alex was in danger. I got dressed in a rush and ran to his place. Alex had changed the door and the access code, I couldn’t get in and had to break inside.
I found him in terrible condition, with that student, dead, dried out.
What a situation. Unreal. Impossible to explain.
Alex carries a secret, just like I do. But his heat had begun, and he asked me to help him.
How could I refuse? I’ve always dreamed of sharing his first heat with him.
In this twisted way, Fate did not take this one thing from us after all… "
And then:
"His eyes fixed on my mask as he stood right in front of me, struggling with himself, fighting instinct.
Desire pushed him toward me, but the fear that this might not be me, that it could be someone else, split him in two like a blade.
I saw that fear and that boundless shame.
Our magic still works, but he does not know it.
They say True Mates have the Pull, a magical attraction.
If they do not fulfill it, both will die.
So if we can remain apart, it means we are not fated.
And yet there is this strange connection between us, this chemistry that only works when we are standing next to each other.
I cannot explain it. Who are we to each other?
A mystery. One thing is certain. He is the only one I want.
And I do not understand why. Is the same thing true for him? "
These entries are interwoven with passages about loneliness, about a constant, suffocating sense of hopelessness, despair, and a deep, burning anger at the world.
There are also entries about his missions for Ennio, about the difficulties they involved, and about the feeling that this was the only thing left to him in life, helping those people and simply staying alive, because the alternative would mean tragedy for the people he loves, for his parents.
I also find an entry about his suicide attempt.
The tears don’t stop running down my cheeks as I read it.
"I owe your life to Ennio… and you owe mine… to Jared."
Bay is sitting on the couch, quietly playing his guitar, a plaintive, sorrow-tinged melody. He lifts his gaze, and his eyes hold a vast, endless sadness.
"What a tragic symmetry there was between us,” he says softly. "We lived for others, because there was nothing left of us."
I walk over to him and wrap my arms around him. I cry quietly, and his eyes grow wet as well.
But I believe that every day will bring us a little more cleansing from this pain we carried for so many years, and I know that Bay and I will never stop working toward that.
◆◆◆
By the end of the week, I visit Blue and tell him I want to try going off Compatron for a week, just as a test.
Blue thinks it over, nods, and says, "Okay. True Mate magic can do incredible things. If it can regrow missing organs, it can certainly fix altered DNA. I’m all for it. Let’s pause Compatron."
He glances at me with a smile and adds, "By the way, you brought millions to our company, Alex. Compatron, in tiny amounts, is a powerful anti-allergy medication. It’s already causing a sensation on the market."
"Does that mean I get a share at Malden Pharmaceuticals?"
Blue snorts but shoots me a wink. "Who knows, who knows!"
On the drive back with Bay, we talk about going off Compatron. We both feel a bit uneasy, but in the end, we agree to the plan.
The next few days are tense. I keep searching Bay’s scent for the return of that metallic note that once pushed us apart, that burning feeling that came with touch, that wave of revulsion that separated us for years.
But nothing comes back. A week goes by, then a second, and the only symptoms I feel are… the first signs of pregnancy.
My body changes, becoming more sensitive, and my sex drive shoots up even higher.
I get needy and clingy, feeling like I literally need to glue myself to Bay.
And he seems to get it. He doesn’t push me away.
He arranges his work and his travel for concerts in a way that lets him spend as much time with me as possible, or so I can go with him.
Sometimes I worry I might get in the way of his career, but I notice that Bay is running it in a way that doesn’t consume his whole life.
Maybe that’s why his career never hits the global level.
He’s well known in the country, especially in the south, but because he limits the number of shows he performs, his level of fame stays steady.
And frankly, I’m fine with that. I don’t think I could handle being the partner of a superstar who can’t even leave the house without being swarmed by fans or paparazzi.
Bay’s moderate fame is more than enough for me, and financially we have nothing to complain about.
Still, during that first month I get a growing feeling that something is missing.
We live in this happy bubble with Bay, our daily life getting smoother, easier, almost effortless.
I feel more and more relaxed, allowing myself to believe this is how things will stay, that nothing new will threaten us.
Week by week, that belief grows, solidifying into something tangible.
When I wake up beside him in the morning, when I curl up against him, I feel it.
That slow, steady settling of safety in my soul, expanding until it fills me completely.
I start to believe, truly believe, that the world we are building will be safe for our child, at least the small part of it we can control.
One day Bay has to stop by his tiny house to grab a few pieces of music equipment.
He says he’ll stay for two hours for a quick lunch with his family.
I love him for not saying a word about the weirdness of our isolation; he doesn’t push me to go with him.
Bay absolutely respects the space I asked for.
And yet the second he gets into the car, something tightens in my stomach, some strange anxiety, like something is spinning inside me and wants to break free.
For all four years of high school I was at the Nolans’ house almost every day. I was practically one of their own, growing up while watching them grow up too. Those four years really shaped me and meant a lot, and Lake was like a stand-in parent for me at times.
Meanwhile, I’m here, dating his son for so many weeks and still doing nothing about it. I’m hiding, crouching in my little cave of safety and shyness.
I grit my teeth in a sudden burst of reckless impulse, pull on a purple hoodie that brings out my eyes, put on loose pants covered in purple and green patterns, and call an Uber.
As I ride to their house, everything comes back to me.
The past, that first time I walked into their home, shocked at how big Bay’s family was, amazed at how different the brothers were from each other, but I watched all of it with curiosity and admiration.
I was surprised by the way Lake and Aiden built such a beautiful family despite all their problems and differences, held together by this powerful bond, the one tie that kept everything connected.
Forty minutes later, the car pulls into the Nolans’ driveway. My heart is pounding, and my throat is dry.
The gate is open, so the vehicle stops inside, right in front of Bay’s tiny house.
I step out and look around, stunned at how much has changed.
The little house I helped pick and design is still beautiful and well kept, though now surrounded by new, lush greenery.
Bay lived here for years, but he kept its original spirit alive.
I notice the windows are dark, so he’s probably in the main house with his parents.
To my surprise, on the other side of the property, I spot another tiny house. From far away I can see two figures sitting on its small porch, watching in my direction, but a wave of shyness keeps me from going toward them.
Could that be Snow? It looks like him from a distance, and that white hair is impossible to mistake. If it’s him, then the person beside him holding babies must be Summer. The last time I saw him, he was a terrifying dark monster tearing the city apart, and a small shiver runs down my spine.
Um, okay, maybe I’ll skip saying hello for now.
Feeling anxious, I head toward the main house, my fingers damp.
When I reach the door, my heart is thudding hard in my chest.
I can’t believe it. I’ve come full circle. I’m back where everything started, where I walked in with a backpack, grateful Bay took my side against the bullies. This is where my love for him started, and where my dreams first began to take shy shapes.
I stand there for a moment, then take a deep breath, raise my hand, and press the doorbell.
There’s a short silence, and then I hear footsteps, light ones, so I know it isn’t Bay or Aiden.
The door opens and my heartbeat stutters.
Lake is standing in front of me.
I can’t believe it. His beautiful, delicate face is still young. He really hasn’t changed that much in ten years. His platinum hair frames his face and gives it a soft glow, and his eyes lock onto me, widening in surprise and then… in this huge rush of joy.
"Whoa!"
Lake grabs me and pulls me into the tightest hug ever, squeezing me so hard he almost crushes me.
"Alex," he whispers, emotional, "Alex…"
I cry. I just do.
I sob like a kid, because it does feel like I’ve come home. After all those years of being no one, belonging to nobody, living on the edges of other people’s lives, forgotten by everyone, I’m back and greeted with such deep and heartwarming joy.
"Hi," I whisper. "I came to tell you that your son and I are True Mates."
Lake lets out something between a laugh and a sob. "Oh, honey, I know. I always felt it deep in my heart, even when the facts seemed to prove otherwise. From that day, the accident, I knew you had to be his True Mate."
My voice cracks. "I went through a special long-term therapy Blue Lowen created for me," I say softly, "and it removed the cause of my allergy. Bay and I can be together."
I hear footsteps behind Lake, and in the hallway light Bay appears, staring at me with wide, shocked eyes.
"Alex, you came?"
"Yes," I say, my breath shaking as I pull away from Lake’s arms. "No more hiding, no more secrets. I’ve missed your family for so many years, and it’s time for me to stop being invisible. I want to be part of… you all again."
Lake wipes his eyes, his breath hitching like he’s the one with asthma. But mine is gone. Ever since Bay and I entered the Joining, I haven’t had a single trace of it. And I’ve dropped the glasses too!
Bay steps up to me and hugs me tight, so tight… and Lake wraps his arms around me from the other side.
Only now do I really feel it. Only now does it become real, something I can touch. I have come back, and I’m here to stay.