Page 21 of Accept Me (Fate’s Choice #4)

During my army training, I read that for a lot of omegas who’d been through trauma, heat could be a turning point. It had healing properties, psychological ones too. The amount of hormones rushing through the system during that time was like a flood. It broke down barriers, but did so organically.

Color rose in Star’s cheeks, he looked at his clenched hands.

"My doctor said my heat will come sometime in the next two months. He couldn’t give me an exact date since it’ll be my first."

"Don’t worry about that. Let’s just focus on getting to know each other, living side by side without any pressure for physical intimacy.

" I made a low, supportive sound. "I can feel how tense you are, but you really don’t need to be. I don’t expect anything now.

I want you here, I want to build something with you gradually.

Your past doesn’t change that. It doesn’t affect the way I see you, not in a bad way. "

Star lifted his eyes again, staring at my face. There was something deeply moving in his expression. His lips trembled as he whispered,

"Thank you. Thank you for being so understanding."

I felt a pang of guilt for not telling him we were True Mates.

But at the same time, I was even more certain that I’d made the right call.

Until we shared the so-called First Touch, the only thing working between us was the Pull, and the Pull could be somewhat delayed.

It could stretch out over weeks, gradually nudging us closer without overwhelming either of us.

The intensity of it depended on how emotionally open someone was.

If someone was ready, it could kick in hard within days.

But if there were mental blocks, it might take weeks without triggering any immediate compulsion to mate.

And Star was holding onto a lot of fear and resistance, despite…

also giving off subtle signs of arousal and occasionally glancing at my crotch.

Was it another thing in which we shared a certain symmetry ? My conflict mirrored his, even if his showed up in a more subtle way.

Taking it all into account, it just reinforced my choice to keep the True Mate thing to myself for now. Telling him would be too much, too soon. It might overwhelm him and put pressure on us to consummate the relationship.

"I feel… so broken. Like I’m carrying too much baggage, burdening you…" he whispered.

"Star, you don’t have to feel like you’re less than anyone."

"It’s not just that," he interrupted. "I know omegas who went into sex work because they actually liked it. However, that wasn’t my case.

I never wanted to be in sex service. I had no one, no family, no close friends.

But I wanted to go to college, to do something meaningful with my life. Get a good job, a future…."

"I’m really sorry, Star. Sorry you were forced into something like that. But you don’t have to apologize to me for anything. I’m the last person who should judge you. I killed people in the war with the NFH. Who am I to judge anyone’s life choices?"

"But alphas are…"

"I’m an individual not a group of random people, Star. I’m not an insecure college boy and I can handle these matters like an adult."

We sat in silence for a moment. I could see some of the tension ease from his body. His shoulders dropped just a little, breathing slowed.

He nodded. "I really appreciate that. I’ll try to be the best partner for you I can be…"

"You don’t have to try just because you’re compensating for your past. Don’t feel like you owe me anything. Just act like your past didn’t exist. Be yourself. That’s all I want: for you to really be you."

Tears kept slipping down his face. I swallowed hard. He looked like he was about to say something but couldn’t quite get it out.

Again, I wanted to take his hand, but he had them folded tightly over his stomach now, leaving no space for the gesture.

I picked up my plate and slipped it into the dishwasher, then looked at him.

"Let’s go for a swim. After a heavy talk like that, it’ll be good for both of us to move a little."

He nodded and stood up. Before walking out, he said softly, "Thanks for listening. What you said… all of it… meant a lot."

He trailed off, like he didn’t want to prolong it, then turned and left.

I went to grab my swim trunks.

By the time I came downstairs, Star was already at the pool.

He was sitting on the edge, wearing pretty much the same thing as before.

But his shorts looked even longer and baggier than the ones I’d loaned him.

Some part of me had been hoping he might wear something tight, maybe briefs.

But clearly, he wasn’t trying to flirt through his outfit.

I got in the water, and he followed slowly. Definitely not the type to dive right in.

We started swimming laps, going around the pool in slow circles. Every now and then, I passed him as he did a relaxed breaststroke with his head up, while I stuck to freestyle.

After about thirty minutes, I swam over to the ledge built into the side and sat down. Star noticed and drifted over, taking a seat beside me.

His cheeks were flushed, his hair wet. He looked really young like that.

"I’m really excited to start my cooking channel. I probably won’t get many views at first, but it doesn’t matter; I’ll be doing what I love." He sighed.

"From what I’ve gathered, cooking’s always been your thing. So why did you choose to study public health?"

"Money. I figured I could get a good job managing medical facilities someday. One of my uncles worked as a hospital administrator after getting that degree and made pretty decent money. That’s why I chose it. But cooking’s always been my passion."

"You’ve got a real talent for it. Everything you’ve made so far has been amazing, even the simple stuff. Perfect!"

Star gave me a small, shy smile, maybe the first genuine one I’d seen from him. His whole face softened.

"Thanks," he whispered, staring down at the water and gently stirring it with his fingers just under the surface.

"I can’t wait to see what you’ll prepare for me next…" I added, and my voice came out deeper and almost sensual, more than I intended, so I cleared my throat to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

Star lowered his head and his cheeks became rosier.

Beads of water clung to his slender neck, and my gaze caught on his scent gland.

Was it a bit more flushed? Sometimes it changed color a few days before a heat.

But it was hard to tell; maybe it had always looked like that, or maybe it was the lighting.

Heats usually start between nineteen and twenty-one. That’s the case for ninety percent of omegas. Star had just turned twenty-two, so he was a bit late. I wondered if that had anything to do with his mental block around sex.

I thought about it for a moment. It was sad that this part of life, something that could be so beautiful and deeply fulfilling, was still something he hadn’t really discovered in himself.

I’ll admit, I missed what I had with Olaf. We both had very high libidos and used to have sex every day, usually three, sometimes even four times. I’d gotten used to that kind of intensity; hell, I needed it! But that last year of mourning completely reset me. It shut all that down.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t jerking off, of course, but it felt mechanical, almost thoughtless, just a habit.

True, my body was fully ready to have sex with Star, but after what he’d confessed, I was firmly set on redirecting my energy to other aspects of our life.

Still, it wasn’t working at that moment. I closed my eyes for a second and tried to picture it, him lying beneath me, giving himself to me willingly…

A small shiver ran through me, but it wasn’t just excitement. There was guilt too, almost immediate. Once again Olaf’s face emerged from the darkness of my memories…

No matter how hard I tried, all I could see now was Olaf’s face when we made love, his mouth open in a moan of pleasure, superimposed over Star’s face.

I felt split into two distinct beings, one hungry for Star, open and ready, and one still faithful to Olaf, conflicted and guilty, holding me back.

In a way, I was almost relieved that Star wasn’t eager to jump into bed with me either!

Unfortunately, I knew neither of us would have much choice for long. It was just a matter of weeks before the Pull got too strong, and we both would have to face it.

I probably should try to let go of that strange ghost of fidelity to my late husband, for my own sanity. Olaf was gone, and never to come back.

My gaze dropped to my bare ring finger. I was free. It was time to start accepting that.

Star seemed lost in thought too, and now that he wasn’t looking at me, I let myself study him a little.

My eyes wandered without permission, drifting lower. His nipples were right at water level, the ripples gently brushing across them. They were pink and tight from the chill, the tips stiff.

I clenched my jaw and averted my gaze. I shouldn’t be getting carried away; I knew I’d scare him if he caught me staring at his naked body.

But completely against my better judgment and against my conscience, my mind still slipped in that direction.

I tried to push it away, but I could already see it. A vivid image of me reaching out and gently brushing the scent gland on his neck, then slowly trailing my fingers down to his nipple.

Maybe he would like that. Or maybe, most likely, he wouldn’t! Possibly that kind of touch would feel invasive, like some stranger crossing a line.

That thought stopped me cold. I yanked my gaze away from his nipple, pissed at myself and the way my thoughts kept swinging back and forth, half-mirroring Star’s emotions.

He was full of fear and excitement.

I was full of guilt and excitement.

Funny how we were perfect mates even in our inner conflict.

"I think I’ve had enough soaking for one day," I sighed, wishing we were both already dressed. That would’ve made things a lot easier. Or was there another way to put myself at ease?

"Want some coffee? Or something stronger?" I added, trying not to sound too eager.

That hunger to numb everything was crawling back in, the same one I’d fed daily for the past year. A drink or two would quiet my thoughts and shut down the turmoil.

Maybe I could drown this unrest that had started stirring in me, bury the clashing urges in alcohol?

I hadn’t touched a drop since Star arrived a few days ago. But before that, for the better part of the year, alcohol had become my nearly constant companion, in small or not-so-small amounts.

We climbed out of the water, and I handed Star a towel, careful not to touch his hand.

We both dried off and headed to the kitchen. Star grabbed a frozen latte, and I pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

A stab of guilt hit me, but the craving had its claws in me again, especially now, when my impulses were so hard to manage.

Really, I needed to start figuring all this out.

When we got back to the lounge chairs and I busied myself with pouring a glass of whiskey for myself, I suddenly remembered what I’d seen on the security cam. Star had gone down to the basement and looked at Olaf’s picture.

I couldn’t blame him, not after everything I knew about his past. He didn’t have much natural trust in people.

As I started sipping from my glass, one thought wouldn’t leave me alone. How did all this look from Star’s side?

The way I barely talked about my past, how little I’d shared. I had promised to tell him.

He’d opened up to me. And me? Didn’t I owe him the same?

I glanced at the bottle beside me. Maybe a dose of liquid courage would help.

By the time I finished the second glass, I felt a bit more ready to talk.

"My husband and I… we were together for twelve years," I began, my voice flat and dry.

Star flinched just slightly, then looked up from his latte. I hadn’t given him any warning. It probably sounded abrupt.

"As you know, his name was Olaf. And he’s gone now."

I barely recognized my own voice. It sounded cold and distant again.

But yeah, this story was going to do what I needed it to. Help me clear things out.

It was hard to talk about, but I needed to let it out.