Chapter 24
24
JONATHAN
G eoffhands me a pair of boxing gloves. The leather is soft and they’re far more comfortable than I would have expected.
He positions me in front of the punching bag, where I can see our reflections in a long floor-to-ceiling mirror. I didn’t think to bring sports clothes on this assignment, so I’m wearing my work clothes, complete with floral tie. I absolutely do not look the part.
“The first thing you need to understand is that we live in a world of alpha and beta males,” Geoff says, bracketing my arms with his own to get me into the right pose.
I look at him sharply.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re aware that’s a fanfic thing?”
A blank look.
“Well, a romance thing. A sub-genre. Alpha, beta, omega. Omegaverse?”
He continues to stare at me, so I feel compelled to continue. “They’re often set in a society where there are no women, so the omegas have adapted to be able to bear children?—”
“You see, this is the exact problem.” He thwacks the bag, startling me.
“It’s hardly high literature,” I concede, “but it is popular. It’s an excellent example of how fan fiction tropes transcended?—”
“Alpha men do not read fan fiction.”
I clear my throat. “Right. Well. I don’t read it myself either, it’s just fascinating from an academic standpoint.” Although there’s a long list of Johnlock AO3 bookmarks that would prove me a liar.
“Now, as I was saying,” Geoff steadies the bag. “Alphas are the leaders of the world. Like in the animal kingdom, the alphas are the ones who attract mates. Take wolves for example. The alpha is the leader of the pack?—”
“That’s, uh, not actually true. Sorry. It’s a very common misconception, but most wolf packs in the wild are family groups, so the pups follow the dad because…” I trail off at the look on Geoff’s face. “That’s not relevant. Please go on.”
“Look, what’s important is that you understand that there’s a hierarchy out there.” He gestures, encompassing the world beyond Du Villeneuve Estate. “If you want to get action, you need to be an Alpha. Some men are born Alphas, but it’s possible to learn to be one. The main thing is confidence, the way you carry yourself. And that’s easier when you take care of the physical aspects.” He turns my face so that I’m looking back at our reflections. “Believe it or not, I was once scrawny too. I know. Hard to imagine.”
Humiliation trickles through me at the word, ‘scrawny’. It’s true enough. “Do you think Adam was ever scrawny?” I hear myself ask.
Geoff scoffs. “The Beast? Nah. Never. He probably came out of the womb buff AF. His ma probably had to have a c-section. But he works to maintain it. Lots of wrestlers get mixed up in roids and that sorta shit. But not The Beast. He’s pure alpha all the way down.”
Geoff would know. Something cold slithers into the pit of my stomach.
“Have you met his parents?”
Geoff shakes his head. “He doesn’t have parents.”
“He’s an orphan?”
“Emancipated. Now, in addition to the Alpha, there’s?—”
“Wait. Emancipated?” I don’t recall that from Adam’s Wikipedia page.
“Yeah he divorced his folks soon as he got famous. Now, are we boxing or are we gossiping?”
“Sorry. Please go on,” I say, but I’m only half listening as Geoff continues. Emancipated. Maybe he does know something of what these children have been though after all. Oh Adam.
“Are you listening, Teach?” Geoff pulls my attention back to the mirror. “Betas are nice , they go through life afraid of everyone’s opinion, they’re passive followers. And that’s all you’ll ever be if you continue down this path.”
“You make it sound so… dire.”
Geoff takes me by the shoulders and turns me around to face him. “Being cringe and unconfident are just bad habits, which can be changed with enough will power and guidance.”
I blink. “You think I’m cringe?”
He takes my tie between thumb and forefinger and quirks his eyebrow again.
Right. “Point taken.”
A few blissful weeks pass as spring breaks over the Highlands.
The children, once so intimidated by Adam, start drawing him into their conversations around the breakfast and dinner tables.
On one sunny day, he even takes them to the greenhouse for a class on botany. Enrique points at each plant in turn, a silent demand for Adam to name them (which is adorable), but it’s Alisha who’s most enchanted by his work. And, after we’re done, he offers to teach her whatever she wants to know. They start to have regular lessons in the greenhouse and she blossoms under his tutelage in a way she never quite did under mine.
I implement a new nighttime routine of cocoa and stories in Enrique’s room. And, as a result, Enrique ends up falling asleep in his own bed more often than not, and even stays there for the whole night on more than a few occasions.
I check in regularly with Zane and hear that my dad is doing well, and that I’m not missing much in Surrey. The outside world seems to be on pause with everyone baking sourdough bread and watching reality TV.
Even my weekly boxing lessons with Geoff aren’t bad. It helps that I find his bro speak so amusing.
The only stain on it all is how happy I am. What a bizarre thing it is, to find self-actualization and be miserable because of it. A tiny voice that sounds suspiciously like Zane tells me I can’t actually be self-actualized without having Adam in my bed. But no, that’s not it. Robert Frost said it best: nothing gold can stay. And the more wonderful it all is, the more there is to lose.
Ben feels it too. Of course he does, he’s the most sensitive of us all. One night, as I’m tucking him into bed, he asks, “Do you think that there’s a chance we can stay here, like this?”
I tuck away my own emotions and shake my head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Doesn’t Adam like us?”
“He likes you very much, but it’s not about that.”
“Then why can’t we stay?”
I’m unprepared to answer. I brush back his silky hair from his forehead. “It’s complicated.”
His big blue eyes fill with tears. “After this, will I ever see you again?”
I press my lips together, fighting back my own emotions. “Don’t think about the future, Ben. Try to enjoy every moment so you have wonderful memories to look back on. We don’t know what will happen. Maybe it’s something much better than this.”
“I don’t think it is,” he says solemnly.
After that, I go down to Lloyd’s study and fill my arms with melancholy vinyls. I spend about an hour in my room, with the volume of the record player at its lowest, listening through old favorites, looking for something that will make me feel better.
Eventually, I try the vinyl with the blue cover. The piano featured on the front might be the very one that now sits at the top of the stairs.
Lloyd’s concerto begins with a series of low notes, punched with emotion. A scale of higher notes follows, like raindrops. And then, a violin, blowing through the piece like a chilly wind. Goosebumps prickle my skin as I stare out at the darkened landscape, the cold moon and the stars.
And through this bleak picture, weave those higher notes, offering hope and beauty. As the second movement starts, I sit on my bed with my eyes closed and let it wash over me. This piece was probably composed for a movie or video game (that’s what composers do nowadays isn’t it?), but it paints a rich and personal emotional landscape that speaks right to my own loneliness. A loneliness I’ve tried my whole life to keep at bay. When the needle finally rises again, my eyes are damp.
No one ever tells you how much finding what you want can hurt.
I’ve just finished a Saturday afternoon lesson with Geoff when I go down to the kitchen for a refreshment and discover Adam sitting at the table with a tablet. Ray’s at the counter, prepping some rolls for dinner, their hands all covered in flour. They both look up when I walk in. Adam’s eyes go wide and he swallows hard.
I ordered some sports togs so I wouldn’t have to do exercise in my work clothes, but now I’m standing before them in shorts and a t-shirt that’s clinging to me. Why didn’t I go shower first?
“Boxing with Geoff,” I say, by way of explanation for the state I’m in, trying to act as though I’m not dying inside. “Please, pretend you can’t see me.” I keep a wide berth as I go to pour myself a glass of iced water from the giant fridge.
“Nothing wrong with what I see, pumpkin.” Ray makes a low growling noise and wriggles their eyebrows. My temperature climbs another few degrees. I was probably all pink from exertion already and now I’m relatively certain I look like a strawberry. I stick my face into the cool fridge and pretend to be intently looking for something.
“Glad you’re here actually,” Ray says. “Some packages arrived for you. From the Zon it looks like.”
The decor for the children! It’s finally arrived. Adam and I sat together in the control room weeks ago, meticulously picking things out, but with the pandemic delivery times are understandably pretty slow.
I close the fridge door and find Adam standing right there. “Since when are you taking boxing lessons with Geoff?”
My stomach gives a little flip. I’ve never even seen Adam this side of the counter, but he’s leaning a hip against the kitchen sink, his arms folded casually as if he’s always been there. When he folds his arms like that, and his biceps are… no, Jonathan. Keep it together.
“Oh, just recently. You know, keeping fit and healthy.”
Adam frowns. “I’m fully aware this isn’t my place to comment… but just be careful.”
“I don’t think I’m going to hurt myself hitting a bag. Although it’s not beyond the realms of possibility.”
“That’s… not what I meant.” He exchanges a significant look with Ray.
Do they think Geoff would hit on me? Doesn’t Adam know Geoff only has eyes for him?
“I promise Geoff isn’t trying anything,” I attempt to reassure him. “He said I’m a beta. I take it that means I’m quite unattractive as a potential mate.”
Adam’s eyebrows fly up.
“He said that to you?” Ray asks.
“He was being nice, actually. He was trying to help me.”
“I’m sure he was,” Adam says, sounding unconvinced.
“Anyway, I’ll grab a shower and then we can open the packages?” I ask hopefully.
Adam’s gaze roves over my face and my clinging clothes. “Sure.”