10. Nine
Nine
Cozette
I fidget in my seat across from Micah, checking the clock on the wall and noting our time is almost up. Our sessions seem to go by in a blink now that I’ve purged some of those earlier memories, and the more I get off my chest, the easier it gets. As usual, Micah let me start the session, always wanting me to decide what we discuss for the day. Today I told him a little more about my time with Victor, but mostly, I talked about my parents. I still haven’t found the nerve to get out what happened to them.
Their deaths still feel so… raw and surreal to me most days.
Just more that Victor stole from me for my disobedience.
They say forgiveness is good for the soul, but how do you forgive someone that’s taken so much from you? Physically and mentally?
He might be gone, but he stained my soul with his rot, infected my psyche with every touch given or word spoken, and poisoned my spirit with every violent punishment. I’m fighting every day to cleanse the contamination, to wash away the taint with every therapy session, but some days I can’t help but fear nothing I do will ever be enough to truly wash away the decay he left behind. I can’t imagine there ever being a day that I wake up and don’t hope Victor Travis’ soul is receiving all the treatment he gave to me and many others tenfold. That I don’t wish he’s suffering for eternity wherever his blackened spirit is now.
“How about we end today’s session on a good note? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the significant difference between the woman sitting across from me today and the one I met a few months ago. How have things been since moving in with the Jacobs?” Micah asks, pulling me from my dismal thoughts.
I can’t help the tentative smile I give him, not only for changing the subject to something much more palatable, but because I feel a semblance of peace and happiness when I think of my new family.
“It’s been great, honestly. Some days I struggle, but Ripley’s parents are wonderful. Patient. I’ve gained a new family in a way, and I’m grateful to them. Did I tell you Damien built me a nest? I’ve never had one before,” I confess, my voice almost a whisper when I admit that.
“Damien is one of Ripley’s dads?” I nod and he smiles, those dimples I find so alluring popping out. “That’s wonderful. Do you like it?”
“I do. I’ve been hiding in there when I feel too… exposed , I guess. It’s peaceful in there, feels more secure because it’s not as open. If that makes sense. I mean, it’s still empty, but Ripley and Valley are taking me to the nesting store today to pick out what I want so I can really make it my own. Is it weird that I’m excited about pillows and blankets and… whatever else goes in a nest?” I ask, cheeks heating as I huff out a laugh under my breath.
“Not at all. I haven’t met an omega yet that isn’t obsessed with pillows and blankets,” he teases, that grin of his making my belly flutter. “I know to most betas—and even some alphas—a nest seems inconsequential. Most of what we’re taught about nests in school is tied in with heats, but that’s not even their main purpose. Your nest is your safe space, somewhere you can just be alone should you want to. Blankets, pillows, and even stuffed animals are comforting for omegas, and everyone is different as far as what they want in their nest. It makes sense that heats are generally ridden out in a nest because omegas crave security even more during that time, and what’s more secure than your nest? The space you perfected with everything that makes you comfortable, while knowing nobody will enter that space without your permission? I’m sure one day, when you’re ready, you’ll invite your own alphas into your nest.”
Talk about me one day inviting alphas into my nest does something funny to me when, instead of terrible thoughts, my mind immediately conjures an image of Jeremiah, Ridge, Zeke, and even… Micah in a fully done up nest of my creation.
My eyes widen and I cover my face in embarrassment when a hint of my perfume seeps out into the room, giving my thoughts away with the errant scent of sugary lemon. Micah clears his throat as I hear him shift in his seat, likely feeling uneasy with my sudden hormone surge that has no business here!
“Oh my gods,” I groan behind my hands, mortified.
Who perfumes during a therapy session?! No, scratch that! Who perfumes while imagining their therapist in their nest during a therapy session?!
Apparently, that would be me.
All of a sudden, after barely perfuming since Victor whisked me away to his house of horrors, I have alphas popping into my life and turning things upside down as the suppressed hormones rage inside of me as they try to battle their way out. It’s like my body and hormones have decided everything without letting my brain know until it’s too late, practically saying ‘these are ours, so now we do the things’. I’ve probably made Micah uncomfortable now, made things awkward. I’ll have to find a new therapist, or better yet, move far away to an isolated island as I relive this horrifying event for eternity…
“Cozy, uncover your face. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s natural and you, um, you know… it’s good. The thought of alphas in your nest at some point didn’t incite fear, so you should look at that as progress,” Micah says, his voice sounding slightly strained to my ears before he clears his throat again and coughs out a laugh, stopping my wayward thoughts in their tracks.
I peek out between my fingers before dropping my hands entirely when I note the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. He’s… I made him blush! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man blush before, and somehow, that only makes him more endearing to me.
This gentle tug I feel when I’m around Micah isn’t like the one I feel with Jeremiah, and now Ridge, Zeke, and even possibly the other alpha in their pack that Ripley told me about. It’s not scent based or instinctual, it just… is . His scent doesn’t threaten to throw me in a perfuming tailspin like I imagine would happen if I was to spend more time with Jeremiah now that it’s possible, or even Ridge and his pack brothers. With Micah, it’s been gradual, something that’s strengthened over time as he’s worked to gain my trust while giving me my voice back in a way. It’s grown as I’ve bared parts of my soul to him that nobody else has seen while he’s listened and encouraged me along the way when needed. His baby powder scent is a comfort for me now, but it doesn’t make my senses feel like they’re going to go haywire in his presence or make me feel like I could lose what little control I’ve gained back over my life. Micah is patient and kind, calm and level-headed. He feels secure and safe like Jeremiah, but in a completely different way.
While the pull with Jeremiah wasn’t a product of my instincts in the beginning because of when he came into my life, it was still different to this draw I feel around Micah. Not surprising, considering by the time Jeremiah came, my instincts were barely functioning, nothing but fear in the driver’s seat. But the more he gained my trust—the more time I spent with him—the more those instincts pulled forward, even when I didn’t realize it. Knowing what I know now, understanding my instincts better as I’ve learned the truth about my designation, I can recognize that it’s almost… compulsory, this need I have for him to be near.
The pull I felt when I met Ripley’s brother and Zeke recently was almost alarming with how sudden and unexpected it was. I don’t know either man, haven’t spoken more than a few words to them, but those pesky senses have gotten louder now that I recognize them for what they are, and they scream that those two alphas are mine as much as Jeremiah is. I’m not mad about it, not really, but the intensity of those feelings when I don’t know them and they don’t know me is a little nerve-wracking.
In a way, it’s kind of nice to know that I’m capable of liking an alpha on my own and not just because my instincts dictate it. I don’t feel this innate need in my gut to be with Micah, it’s just a want. I don’t need him, but I want him, which is both refreshing and stressful. Refreshing because I’m able to still want someone just because I happen to like them. Stressful because he’s my therapist, so there’s the reminder of how unethical that would probably be, which means me and him likely will never happen. How ironic that I like someone I absolutely cannot have.
Get it together, Cozette! At this rate, you’re collecting alphas like Pokémon with two, possibly three, new scent matches popping into your life just as things are leveling out for you. Alphas should be the least of your worries. Quit whining about the one you can’t have!
Micah clears his throat slightly, shifting in his seat again before asking, “So… Is there anything else new that’s happened that you’d like to talk about for the last few minutes? Anything you’ve seen or done recently?”
I can tell he’s trying to change the topic for my sake, but when I quickly glance at the clock again, a wave of disappointment washes over me. There’s only ten minutes left in the session, and as embarrassed as I am for perfuming around Micah, I can’t help how disappointed I feel that it’ll be another week before I get to see him again. I still haven’t used the number he gave me to get ahold of him if I needed to, chickening out anytime I thought about it.
Taking a deep breath to push past the lingering embarrassment and frustration bubbling up inside me, I try to think about how to answer his question while the rather rude voice in the back of my mind continues to berate me.
“I have scent matches!” I blurt out finally, tucking my lips behind my teeth when I finally get the nerve to look Micah in the eyes again.
I don’t know why, but the words are out before I can even think them through, that voice practically drowning out everything until it comes to a screeching halt at my sudden confession. Maybe I said it because I need to talk about it with someone else other than Ripley. Or maybe I said it because I want to see if he has any kind of reaction to the news. I don’t know. But I do know I feel silly, like a little girl trying to make her secret crush jealous or… something.
His eyes widen, lips parting marginally as he sucks in a breath.
“Y-you, uh, you… scent matches ? Like… a pack?” he eventually coughs out, his shoulders tensing the tiniest bit.
“Yes… and no,” I mutter, wincing. “It’s kind of complicated.”
“Okay. Then uncomplicate it for me.”
He raises a brow at me, clearly letting me know that he’s not gonna let me get away from some sort of explanation that easily, and I want to smack myself for bringing this up right now.
“It’s… ugh. Fine,” I sigh out. “I met Ripley’s brother and one of his pack mates the other day, and I don’t know. I didn’t freak out or run away scared. Well, I ran away, but not because I was scared of them, more so because I wasn’t. I caught their scents, and the worries and fears just kind of… washed away.”
I shrug, biting the inside of my cheek and shifting in my seat. He says nothing, and I groan because there’s five minutes left in the session and explaining my history with Jeremiah would take longer than that. I take a deep breath, puffing my cheeks out before slowly exhaling.
“His name is Jeremiah. The other alpha.” I pause, rubbing my palm against my forehead before running my fingers through my hair nervously. “I’ve… known for a while that there was something there, but it wasn’t until Ripley explained some things to me that I really understood the meaning of what I was feeling towards him.”
“And Jeremiah isn’t part of… of the first two alpha’s pack?” he asks, his throat bobbing, and I shake my head, biting my thumbnail. “How did you meet him?”
I scrunch my nose, not wanting to tell him. I don’t want him to know just how entangled with my past Jeremiah is, but he’ll find out eventually, so not saying anything would just be delaying the inevitable.
“I met him while I was with Victor. So, like I said, complicated,” I finally mumble out weakly, giving him a sad half smile when he sits forward abruptly, clearly not expecting that revelation.
I shake my head to stop him when he opens his mouth, trying to gather my thoughts because I need to make sure he understands I’ve thought a lot about these feelings I have for Jeremiah. I also need him to know that he was never a part of what Victor did to me. Besides, I’ve learned that I can be a bit defensive when it comes to what I feel for Jeremiah.
He’s my alpha. I know that with everything that I am, and because of that, I have this innate need to defend him against everyone, even when I don’t know exactly what anyone is going to say about him. He’s mine, no matter what anyone else says. I know that with absolute certainty.
“Before you say anything, I’ve had a lot of time to think about my feelings for him, told myself a million times that it’s wrong because most people won’t understand if they ever know everything he’s done. But despite all of that, I’d still choose him. He’s never hurt me, been upfront and honest with me about everything he’s done from the beginning, and when I was at my lowest, he was the only one there trying to give me what little bit of dignity back that he could. I know he should be the one person I shouldn’t want to be around. He should be a constant reminder of what I went through. But he isn’t. Not in the sense you’d think. When I think about him, I remember the countless nights he’d sneak in and take care of me, talk to me even when I couldn’t talk back. He did jobs for Victor, but only I know he kept taking those jobs after he saw me. He spent a good portion of my imprisonment taking care of me behind Victor’s back. I know in my tarnished soul that Jeremiah is mine. With every fiber of my being, and as scary as that is, it’s also comforting.”
I take a deep breath after saying all of that, a little surprised by what I just admitted out loud when I hadn’t even admitted it to myself. But it feels so right, even if there’s a lot I’m afraid of and not ready for. Jeremiah is mine. The first thing I’m choosing for myself in spite of biology after so long of not being able to make my own choices.
The timer on Micah’s desk goes off before he can say anything, and I can’t help but notice the frustration marring his features as he gets up to shut it off. For a moment, he doesn’t turn back around, almost seeming to gather himself before grabbing something and walking over to me as I stand. I can tell he wants to continue this conversation, to ask more questions, but today’s session is over, so it’ll have to wait.
With a sigh, he passes me a brown leather journal, and I take it, the leather smooth against my palms. I run my fingers gently over the unblemished cover, my brows furrowed. When I look back up at him, he clears his throat, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants.
“I have a little homework for you, if you’re amenable. Not the journal, per se. I just know that it’s sometimes easier to write our thoughts down instead of talking about them and meant to give it to you at our last session. You don’t have to use it, but if you want to, write whatever you feel like. Past, present, or even future hopes and dreams. If you want to share anything you write in there, bring it with you to our sessions, and if not, that’s okay, too.”
He smiles tenderly at me when I reply with a quiet okay, his golden eyes softening as he looks down at me. Together, we head for the door, stopping just before he opens it for me. When he stares down at me, his eyes seeming to look into my soul, the air feels charged around us and all I want suddenly is for him to bridge the small gap between us and press his lips against mine just once.
“Now, for your homework. I want you to experience something new or to face a fear you have. Whether that be going out and meeting new people, exploring the city, or whatever else, that’s up to you. You have a brand new life and nothing holding you back anymore from doing what you want but your own mind. Push your boundaries a little.”
He pokes his finger against the middle of my forehead with a closed-mouthed smile and I huff, ignoring the way my forehead seems to tingle in the spot that he touched. He opens the door for me, leaning against it slightly, and I step out before turning back to look at him.
“I’ll try.”
I nibble on my lip, feeling the need to thank him for everything, even though I know it’s what he’s supposed to do. Something tells me the other therapist they’d brought in for me never would have been as good of a fit for me as Micah is. He just has a way of making people feel comfortable and completely heard as they purge whatever demons they may be facing.
“Thank you. For the journal. For everything, really. It’s not easy reliving these memories and letting someone else see into the darkness I lived in for that year, but I can admit I feel a little lighter after every session. So thank you for listening, for giving me my voice back. I really appreciate everything you’re doing to help me live again, Micah.”
He just shakes his head and replies, “It’s my job to listen, but even if it wasn’t, you deserve to be heard, Cozy. You’re a survivor, much tougher than you think you are, and your voice is powerful. Victor might have accomplished suppressing it for a short time, but now you get to take back that control. That power. Don’t ever let anyone tell you what to do again. You are your own person, and your thoughts and feelings are valid. Damn what anyone else has to say.”
He winks at me, and I give him a genuine smile for probably the first time since meeting him, teeth and all, because I know right then what he’s really saying. That I don’t need anybody’s permission to feel what I feel for my Ghost, and nobody’s opinion should matter but my own. And he’s right.
“See you next week.”
His stunned expression as I turn away and head down the corridor has me smiling all the way to the waiting room where Mama Valley and Ripley are waiting, my heart feeling just a little more put together and my soul revived.