Page 2 of Secret Heart
God, I’m such a mess, I’m responding like an Omega in need of comfort rather than an Alpha ready to protect and reassure those I care about.
Brielle frowns, her nostrils flaring, and then swallows. Instead of commenting, she grabs a piece of cheese. It’s enough to let me close the distance and drop onto the blanket opposite her. She lays back on her elbows, tilting her face toward the light blue sky without a cloud in it, her own dark brown hair catching in the breeze that’s growing more intense. I pop a chocolate-covered strawberry in my mouth and then immediately regret it. It takes all my self-control to chew and swallow without grimacing. My stomach roils in irritation.
While I’m trying to convince my body throwing up isnotthe proper response right now, Brielle hums and closes her eyes..
“You’re still all right with me getting my things moved out this weekend?” she asks without looking at me. “Caleb said the extra bedroom should be finished by Thursday.”
I take the lifeline with both hands.
“Of course.” I carefully nibble on a cracker while she’s not paying attention to me, grimacing as my stomach pitches again. I’m soscrewed.
I force my thoughts to Brielle’s nest she’s been creating in the pack house Ethan and Caleb have shared since they filed the paperwork with the Council alongside Brandon five years ago. She’d been hesitant to build a true nest there, in the same house Kayla had built one, but since the paperwork came back for her officially joining Pack Taylor, it’s lessened. Last week, she finally asked about moving the last of her things from my small guesthouse once Caleb and Ethan were finished with the heavy-lifting parts of the renovation.
“What color did you end up choosing?” I ask.
Brielle’s mouth quirks up in a half-smile. “The darker green, just like you suggested. Caleb had already done two full walls before I admitted to wanting to change it.”
I chuckle for a moment, and then quiet falls between us again. This time it’s not quite as comfortable. Or maybe that’s just my own reaction to it. She casually reaches for the tray of food.
“You want to talk about it?”
No. Saying the words out loud will make them real in a way they haven’t been yet. Of course, continuing to pretend theyaren’treal won’t help anyone in the long run. Before I lose my nerve, I just blurt them out.
“I’m pregnant.”
Her gaze whips to me so fast, it gives me motion sickness, her hand freezing halfway to her mouth with a second slice of cheese. Or maybe the nausea is the fact I’m two weeks late and have no less than four tests with two pink lines sitting in the bathroom at my house. I look away from her, focusing on the horses across the meadow.
“All right,” she says after a full minute. “What kind of appointment?”
I can’t help but smile, a quick flash of mirth, before covering my eyes with my hand and sighing.
“I don’t know.”
There’s the crush of the blanket, and then her hand is on my forearm, carefully pulling my hand away from my face. Her eyes are bright with worry, but her mouth and shoulders are relaxed, softened in understanding.
“About two weeks before he died, I was a week late,” she says quietly.
I frown. She’d been pregnant when her asshole of a husband died?
“I wasn’t.” She answers the unasked question. “Stress most likely. But I had a full meltdown with Faedra during that limbo about what to do. Turns out, she’d had a similar panic when she’d gotten accidentally pregnant with the twins shortly after matching with the Bennetts.”
My thoughts catch on the bubbly, confident redhead Omega I’d met in late June when Brielle had invited us all to camp with them along the bank of Phelps Lake. The possibility of her panicking over having the girls feels completely foreign. Not all Omegas are built for making families, but Faedra isn’t one of them. Being a mother sits on her as comfortably as her photography—and that’s literally award-winning.
“Her best friend lives in LA and has always known she wanted to be childfree,” Brielle continues. “It was her that talked Faedra through all the possibilities so that she was confident in her choice. I don’t know how she managed when they were only 22. I could hardly think straight enough to come up with a plan, and I was nearly 30.” Brielle chuckles. “Anyway, the advice her friend gave her was to think through both paths as far as you possibly can. Often, one path will feel more… unsettled than the other. That’s probably not the path for you.”
Envision both futures?
“That sounds… less overwhelming.”
Brielle squeezes my hand, lacing our fingers together. Omegas are the ones who need tactile comfort, but the touch settles me a bit anyway.
I cautiously imagine both paths, trying to feel which one might be better.
“Take the time you need so you’re confident,” Brielle says, laying back on the blanket. “The last thing you want is to look back and realize you acted out of fear and regret whicheverchoice you make.” Then she smiles, just a bit. “And, if you want to book that kind of appointment, I’ll go with you. We can go all the way to Denver for it if you want, even stay with Faedra before and after if you’d like.”
Chapter Two
BEAU
