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Tristin cut across me, loudly. “That what? You’re amazing? You love him? He’s damn lucky to have you?”

Arguing with Tristin was a moot point. He was never going to see me the way I saw myself—the way that I was.

Empty. The voice whispered.

Useless. It hissed.

Mistake. It screamed.

And this time I didn’t try to quiet the thoughts. Instead, I quietly agreed.

Weekends were typically spent running errands, cleaning, and preparing for the upcoming week. However, at noon on Saturday, I was finally dragged out of bed by incessant knocking at my door. I frowned as the rapping turned into someone leaning on the doorbell.

After the conversation with Tristin, I felt even worse. I kept those thoughts at bay for months, wholeheartedly believing that I was over it all. But the mating… every omega instinct was screaming at me, telling me that now I was ready for kids, despite my body not being able to do so. On some level, I knew it wasn’t just my biology screaming. The desire to become a father had grown exponentially, becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings. What did one do when they yearned for something that was unattainable?

So, I hid. I didn’t run away but simply unplugged. For about five days. Which could be why, when I opened the door, Eli looked equal parts relieved and pissed.

“Here.” He held out a large, insulated bag. “There’s about—actually I’ll do it.” He pushed past me, slipping off his slides before he continued, heading to the kitchen and leaving me to stare blankly after him. “You have a few dishes to choose from. Some dishes can be frozen, and I’ve written the ‘best by’ date on the containers.” He busied himself by putting the food away, humming lightly as he did.

“Eli,” I began, but he interrupted.

“I figure we can order take out today? Stay inside and watch a movie?” He closed the refrigerator and turned to flash a bright, toothy grin that fell short of reaching his darkened eyes.

“Eli, I—”

“Okay, so no take out.” He turned around again and began opening cupboards, moving aside nonperishable items. “What are you in the mood to eat? Breakfast for lunch?”

Frustrated, I tugged at the ends of my hair, sighing heavily. “Eli. I need—” I jumped as a cupboard slammed, the loud noise cutting me off.

“No.”

“No?”

“Yeah, no. You told me. The other night. You said to come in close when you pull away. So, you don’t get to suddenly change your mind. Especially not after you didn’t call me for days after—” he hedged, his emotions masked but his body belying his calm exterior as fingers brushed along his gland. His uncovered gland. “So, I’m here now. And I’m not leaving.”

“Fine,” I spat out. I was angry and didn’t truly understand why. But instead of arguing, I left him in the kitchen, slamming my bedroom door like a petulant teen, and sat on the edge of my bed with my arms folded over my chest.

Eli knocked once before entering. His gaze shifted from the empty space beside me to the small loveseat across the room and back. After a pause, he sat on the bed. “Why tell me to come in close and then push me away when I do?”

Because I’m a walking contradiction.

I shrugged.

“I’m trying really hard to not make this about me, Laney.” Eli gently prompted, “Help me to understand.”

How when I don’t understand?

I stared at my hands, focusing on pulling the frayed hem of a well-worn shirt.

“Do you—” Eli started but stopped. His swallow was audible. He took a shaky breath and tried again, his voice small and heavy with sadness. “Do you regret claiming me?”

“Do I— what?!” My head snapped up, my mouth agape.

He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, drawing my attention, yet again, to the fact that he wasn’t wearing his choker. He chuckled wryly. “What am I supposed to think? You—you claim me and then tell me it’s okay to do the one thing I’ve been wanting to do since our second date and then ignore me for days afterwards.”

My stomach dropped, twisting into a large knot as the realization of my selfishness dawned. I hung my head, avoiding his stare, but reached out, tentatively placing my hand near his. “I—don’t want you to regret me, Eli.” The brush of his pinky against mine increased the size of the lump growing in my throat.

“Why do you believe I would?”