Thorns That Bloom (Venusverse), page 19
It’s silly. The whole idea that she’s the thing that saved me. It almost feels wrong to put her in that position. She’s more than an excuse for me not to have broken down after what happened, but I will never be able to put into words how much her being here, no matter the reason, means to me.
Theo stops in the doorway out of the obstetrics unit, holding it open for me, and raises his brows, still waiting for me to finish the sentence. I watch that lovely face of his, and it hits me he might be the only person I don’t actually feel embarrassed around voicing it, so I do. “Something whimsical. Whimsical and meaningful. Not just a boring, normal name.”
“Like Sam?” he says with a grin, and I burst out laughing.
“Yeah. Nothing like Sam,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
I walk through the door and wait for him to catch up with me on the other side. Theo studies my expression, clearly pleased by my lingering amusement, and hands me the sonogram picture back. “I do love your name, though. It suits you. Sam.”
I like the sound of it from his lips. It comes out so effortlessly. Like pouring honey. Always gently. With care and affection.
For whatever reason, I find myself just standing there, mere inches away, staring at him. The lovely food he cooked for me still sits in my stomach. The enthusiasm he showed today has made me feel like I’ve been living through a regular experience like everybody else. Like those loving couples who decided to bring new life into the world, nothing but happy and secure and content.
I part my lips, drawing in the scent of his pheromones. They’re faint. I can tell he’s minding himself every time he’s around me. Alphas usually smell stronger, even when they just go about their day. They can’t help it. Their powerful, rousing scent is supposed to draw people like me in. It’s meant to be magnetic and alluring to attract omegas on the most primitive, innate level. Offering everything that matters in life.
Protection, care… Connection.
For the first time since the moment that shattered my world, I let myself be pulled in. Because…I want to. Theo’s eyes narrow and fixate on me as I lean closer. I swallow hard, suck in a deep breath, and when I exhale, I move toward those luscious lips of his.
I take his mouth in a hot kiss. The press of his lips against mine is somehow soft and solid all at once, and it sends a burst of electricity down my spine, out to the very tips of my toes. Heat surges through me when his tongue slips over the seam of my mouth, asking—gently, so very gently—to be let in.
And by god, I open for him. A needy, pathetic moan escapes me as I close my eyes. Theo kisses me back. He kisses me back hungrily and tenderly, and his scent invades my senses.
It’s only when his hands hesitantly rest against my hips that I break the kiss, waking up from whatever dream I voluntarily stumbled into.
With a strangled gasp, I pull away until my back meets the wall.
“I…”
What the fuck am I doing? Friends. We are supposed to be friends. And I just…
Theo’s hands go up between us in a calming gesture. Even though he looks almost as spooked as I feel, he puts on that caring mask with admirable swiftness. “Hey, that’s…that’s alright! This isn’t a big deal, really,” he assures me with a smile. “All those pregnancy hormones…I get it! You’re all over the place, you’re stressed out and tired, and it-it didn’t mean anything.”
I nod slowly, even as the world still spins around me.
How could I let myself be swayed by whatever that was? After telling him that we can’t be together. After…
“I’ll take a taxi back to work, okay?”
“N-no, I can—”
“Sam.” His voice does that thing when it goes smooth and low, sending shivers all the way to my heels. With a serious face, he steps closer to me again, touching my wrist so gently he might as well not be touching it at all. “It’s fine. I’m a big boy. I can get back by myself. Besides, my shift doesn’t start for a while.”
His ability to put on that smile without a hint of any other emotion is exceptional. I can hardly see the disappointment behind it, but a dullness in his soft blue eyes betrays him.
I know he won’t change his mind, and I know that I’ve had enough stress for today, so I nod again. Theo steps away with an exhale.
“Drive safe,” he says. Putting his hands into his pockets, he flashes me one last smile and heads for the main entrance, where he’ll be able to get a taxi.
I don’t know if he walks so quickly because he doesn’t want to upset me any further or if it’s because what happened, what I did, has rattled him as much as it did me.
I’m afraid to find out which one it might be.
Chapter 16
Sam
Dr. Stewart glances up at me, tapping the end of her pen against her notebook. I’ve finally felt ready to catch her up on what’s been going on with Theo and me, right until the point when I lost my mind and kissed him like a complete fucking idiot.
“Did that bring any unpleasant emotions to the surface?”
I lean back, reminding myself that I promised to be honest with her, no matter how awkward that might be. “No. In the assault, they…they didn’t kiss me. Kissing isn’t something they ruined for me. One of the few things they haven’t,” I say quietly, lowering my gaze.
“So, in the moment, how did it feel to kiss Theo?”
The question makes heat pool in my cheeks and behind my ears. “It was just the pregnancy hormones,” I insist, because if I answer quickly, I don’t have to actually reflect on it. I don’t want to look back at the terrifying storm of feelings—good feelings, worst of all—going on inside me back then.
“Or perhaps you were stressed out and grateful for his support, and kissing him was the only way you knew how to show it?”
I frown. “Why would I kiss him? After…after insisting we were only going to be friends.”
“From what you told me, it was Theo who insisted on that, wasn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but I—”
“Do you feel like he only did it so that he could stay in your life?”
Dr. Stewart is scary direct today… Slowly, I nod.
Of course. Of course, deep down, I know Theo didn’t just let that fated mates idea go. I know he asked to be friends and promised there would be nothing else between us because that’s the only way he could be near me.
“And how do you really feel about that?”
My frown deepens. The baby stirs lightly inside, and I place my hand on my belly while I dart my eyes across the paintings behind Dr. Stewart and try to gather my thoughts.
Part of me wants to be angry at Theo. If he really didn’t want to get hurt, he would’ve taken the hint and stayed away. He would’ve run when I told him I’m broken. He would’ve run the moment he found out what happened to me. Even as I picture it, I ignore the quiet voice in the back of my mind, reminding me how warm and comforting he smells. I ignore it whispering about how I want him to stay.
The fact that he didn’t head for the hills, I guess, only proves the truth of his earlier confession. He still believes in that silly, absolutely unfounded thing. That we’re fated mates. Deep down, I knew that. I knew it when he told me he wished to be friends and promised there would be nothing more. Not that I thought he was lying, but I knew it was something he had to settle for in order to remain in my orbit.
I knew he felt the same irrational affection toward me when I agreed to have lunch together. When I accepted that arrangement, when I brought him to my doctor’s appointment with me, to see my child, to be the one with me when I found out her gender, and I knew it when I kissed him.
The realization eats at me. My stomach twists uncomfortably to the point I almost feel sick.
Why am I doing this? I know the only way this can end. With Theo wanting more, me not being able to give it to him, and both of us getting hurt.
“You don’t need to answer if the answer is not yet clear in your mind. It’s okay not to know, Sam.”
Meeting her eyes with a trembling inhale, I bite down on my bottom lip before opening my mouth. “I…I know you’re not supposed to give me your personal anecdotes or your opinions on things. You’re just supposed to push me to figure shit out by myself. But please… Right now, I need you to answer me like a normal person. A human being, not a shrink. Fated mates. D-do you believe it’s real?”
That’s what it all comes down to, isn’t it?
What might have been just a completely outrageous, silly idea that Theo put out there is now something more. It’s something I actually started thinking about, too. When I look at him, I so often hear his confession in my mind. The determination of his words echoes in there like a catchy song I can’t get out of my head.
Dr. Stewart raises her brows. She hardly ever shows much emotion besides soft, comforting understanding and support. I see thoughts swim behind her eyes before she flares her nostrils, presses her lips together and lifts her shoulders with a long sigh.
“Very well, Sam. You’re not wrong—I’d rather not answer such questions in a manner like this, but if you insist, and if this is truly what you believe you need to hear to help you make up your mind about it, I’ll entertain the request.”
My chest collapses with relief. Relief, and a swirling ribbon of hope I can’t quite place.
Re-crossing her legs, she places the pen on her notepad, almost as if she’s putting her entire therapist persona aside.
“Hmmm, fated mates…” Thoughtfully, she purses her lips and glances up at the ceiling for a moment. “Well, let’s say… You’re aware that nearly all of us carry recessive or dominant genes of all kinds, yes? Some genetic disorders only present and cause issues in specific instances. For example, you could have two people with a recessive gene for a disease living happy, healthy lives. Only when they have a child together does this combination become a recipe for the illness to manifest in full force. These occurrences of two unlucky individuals joining to create the perfect storm are rare enough.”
I nod, listening intently.
At some point in the last thirty seconds, my heart rate has picked up, and my ankle has started bouncing all by itself. I smooth my palms down the legs of my pants.
Why am I more nervous now than when I tried to open up to Dr. Stewart about what happened to me? It makes no sense. With breath that’s bated for reasons I couldn’t articulate, I anticipate her next words.
“I believe that…the so-called perfect match for an alpha and an omega—the fated mates—is quite similar. Only the effect is reversed. A positive result instead of a negative. Just like there are people with genes that, when put together, can create a genetic disaster, some individuals might possess sets of genes that are so ideal together that it almost creates this…palpable mental impression or a reaction. But of course, we are much more than our biological makeup. So, for this theory to make sense, we’d need to add even more variability—the emotional compatibility.
“Two people matched in this extraordinary way genetically and also personality-wise. Odds akin to being struck by lightning. If we combine these two aspects, I certainly believe it could give way to something one might call fated mates.”
“Wouldn’t something like that mean we lack agency?” I ask, my heart beating violently inside my chest.
I’m scared. I’m fucking scared, and I don’t know why.
Maybe because my true, naive view of it might not be too far from what she just said.
Dr. Stewart smiles in that soothing way and tilts her head. “One might say that those factors take agency away from the two individuals, yes. Personally, what I would say is that the fact that two people fit so well together by such astronomically low chances is the biggest proof of fate anyone could ever hope for. The chances of this perfect match actually coming together with the number of humans in the world, at the right time and place? Extraordinary. The real question is…what is the belief you want me to support or disprove by asking me this question? What is your opinion on it?”
“I don’t know,” I say quickly, my voice too loud in Dr. Stewart’s small office.
Too quickly. So quickly that it must be painfully obvious it’s a pathetic, cowardly lie.
“Tell me, Sam…” She shifts in her seat again, taking on that rational tone again, slipping back into her role. “Have you ever kissed anyone simply because of your hormones or pheromones? Let’s use the example of being at the most sexually frustrated and needy point of the heat cycle. In that state, would you kiss someone you were not intimately interested in?”
It’s like she punches me in the chest. Whatever part of my mind was stubbornly refusing to process this fated mates thing is painfully shaken loose.
I stare ahead, recalling all the most insatiably horny, infuriating, frustrating times of heat in my life.
No. Of course not. Of course the answer is no.
Just like I didn’t want them to do it, no matter how many pheromones were in the air. No matter how many times I came and how much slick my body produced, I never wanted it.
When I kissed Theo… it wasn’t only hormones, was it?
I look up, staring at the woman in front of me, and she knows it, too. Sees it as clear as day; the revelation on my face. It’s why she gives me that expression of pity. She proved so easily that the excuse I’ve been using to let myself off the hook is as weak as I am. I wasn’t some beast controlled by my hormones when I agreed for Theo to come to the doctor’s office with me, or when I felt utter joy over him experiencing that beautiful moment by my side.
It was just me. I did that. Because I wanted to. And I wanted to kiss him.
But…what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
Fear washes over me. “I can’t want him,” I mutter, shaking my head. My fingers tremble slightly, so I press them firmer against my belly. “I’m not ready. I can’t…drag him into that.”
I’m getting all choked up with emotion, overwhelmed. It’s too much. This time in my life should be purely about survival. About surviving and making a life for me and my child. Getting myself out of the hole. Letting someone else in isn’t going to help. I can’t be feeling anything for anyone, because that will only lead to me getting hurt, and I’m hurt already.
I can’t be a good enough parent if I keep feeling weak and pathetic and confused like this.
“Why is it that you believe you can’t want him?”
I choke out a laugh, and even I can hear that it sounds suspiciously like a sob. Where do I even begin? I feel frozen, stuck.
“If you’re not sure, you could try to list reasons or ways Theo has had a negative effect on your life,” Dr. Stewart suggests, her voice kind.
Negative? He’s had nothing but a positive effect since he walked into it. He’s only ever tried to help. He’s only ever been irrationally understanding and kind.
But that in itself is an insane thought. I don’t even know him. I don’t know this man, and yet I’m drawn toward him so easily, like a stupid insect getting stuck in honey. Isn’t that fucked up? Isn’t it dangerous, how effortlessly this man, who might very well be the same sort of monster as those who hurt me, found his way into my heart? Simply by claiming he believes we’re fated mates? By being nice to me and showing interest in my child and having a charming fucking smile?
‘What’s wrong with me?’ I think, even as some part of me is screaming in protest.
I put my head in my hands and stare blankly at the floor through my fingers as my chest tightens with unease.
This never would’ve been me before.
That must be it.
The old Sam would’ve laughed Theo off. I thought this entire nightmare had made me even more cynical than I already was, but it isn’t true. It’s made me soft. Weak. That’s the only logical explanation for this madness.
“I don’t even know him,” I whisper. “I have to keep myself and my child safe. Wouldn’t you agree?”
When I look at her, Dr. Stewart gives me that…skeptical eyebrow raise. Like she knows I’m lying to myself, lying to her. She would never accuse me, she would never throw it in my face, because that’s not what a professional does, but I know damn well what she’s thinking. ‘Deep down, you’re just scared because he’s an alpha,’ probably.
And I don’t even know if she’s right. I don’t even know myself anymore.
“I would agree, yes,” she finally says after what feels like an eternity of rattling silence. “I always tell you that your primary focus should be yourself. And this is clearly causing you much distress and inner conflict.” I almost expect her to add, ‘which is why you’ve kept this from me,’ but she doesn’t. “With the birth of your little one approaching, perhaps we should set some focused goals to keep your attention on that. Goals that will motivate and ground you. This will satisfy your most important priorities and needs, which are, as we’ve established, your child and yourself.”
The tightness in my chest eases, but it doesn’t go away. It stays there, lingering, together with the swirling thoughts. Coming back to them feels like trying to walk through a tornado, so I face away from them instead.
I nod. Distraction. I need a distraction.
Still, I’m sure that even as I leave this office bound and determined to focus on myself and my daughter, I won’t be able to escape the memory of those blue eyes welling up with tears, looking at the picture of her sucking her thumb. I won’t be able to stop trying to understand why something about him calls to me, like finally finding my way home.
❈
Unfortunately, the true distraction proves to be exceptionally more difficult to simply dismiss. Two days after the emotionally exhausting session with Dr. Stewart, I wake up far ahead of my alarm, only this time, it’s not because of the baby or my seemingly shrinking bladder.
That’s what I thought it was at first, anyway.
As I groan and stretch, I feel slight wetness around my crotch. I sit up abruptly and turn on the lamp next to my bed. When I pull the blanket aside and reach down—because I can no longer see over my growing stomach—my entire body stiffens. The moisture my fingers are met with is a sticky residue of the dream that still echoes in my mind; my half-hard cock a striking evidence of it.
