Page 23 of Billy and Cord (Omega Hearts #1)

It was a week later when Billy pushed open the door to the Wonky Pig, the familiar scent of their secret sauce making his stomach rumble.

His wrists jangled softly as his bracelets caught against each other - a new set Cord had surprised him with just that morning, each one engraved with a tiny wolf silhouette.

“I still can’t believe we actually bought a house,” Billy said, sliding into their usual booth. His fingers traced patterns on the worn wooden table as Cord settled across from him. “Like, an actual house. With rooms we need to fill with actual furniture.”

The morning had been a whirlwind of furniture stores, fabric samples, and debates over whether they really needed a sectional that big.

Billy’s head was spinning with color swatches and delivery dates, but underneath all of it was a warm glow of contentment that hadn’t left him since Cord had come home.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Cord asked, his dark eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’ve got that look like when you’re trying to wrestle a particularly stubborn piece of code.”

Billy huffed out a laugh. “At least with code, there’s a right answer. How am I supposed to know if we need a loveseat and a couch? Or what the difference is between eggshell and ivory?”

“Pretty sure they’re both just fancy words for white,” Cord said, reaching across the table to take Billy’s hand. His thumb rubbed gentle circles over Billy’s knuckles, and Billy felt some of the furniture-shopping tension ease out of his shoulders.

The server appeared - a young beta who’d been working there for years and already knew their order by heart. “The usual for you two? Extra sauce on the side for Billy?”

“You know me too well, Marcus,” Billy said with a grin. “I definitely need some extra sauce today.”

As Marcus headed to the kitchen, Billy squeezed Cord’s hand. “Thank you for being patient with me today. I know I got a little... intense about the dining room chairs.”

“You were adorable,” Cord assured him. “Besides, you’re the one who’s going to be working from home. It makes sense you’d want everything just right.”

Billy felt warmth bloom in his chest. Even when he was stressed to the max over the huge number of furniture options available for sale, Cord still looked at him like he’d hung the moon.

It was taking some getting used to, being loved the way he was.

Being claimed the way he was… Billy shook himself as his body reacted in a way not suitable for a public place, even among mated couples.

“Cece texted while you were looking at those bar stools,” he said, pulling out his phone with his free hand. “Him and Tristan want to know if we need help moving. Apparently, Tristan’s already planning where to put a gaming setup in one of the spare rooms.”

Cord chuckled. “Of course he is. Though I notice you didn’t say no to the bar stools.”

“They spun,” Billy protested, his cheeks heating. “And they were the perfect height for if I want to work at the kitchen counter while I’m watching you cook.”

“Everything’s perfect when you’re there,” Cord said, his voice dropping into that low rumble that never failed to make Billy’s pulse skip.

Billy ducked his head, adjusting his glasses to hide his blush. “You can’t just say things like that in public.”

“Why not when it’s true?”

Their food arrived, saving Billy from having to come up with a response that didn’t involve climbing across the table.

The familiar comfort of the Wonky Pig’s signature dish grounded him, bringing back memories of late-night coding sessions fueled by cold takeout leftovers, of celebrating small victories with Cece and Tristan, of that first lunch with Cord where everything had changed.

“Hey,” Cord said softly, and Billy looked up to find his mate watching him with those perceptive dark eyes. “Where’d you go just then?”

“Just thinking,” Billy said, swirling a fry in the extra sauce.

“About how different everything is now. Good different,” he added quickly.

“Just a month ago, I was eating cold takeout, from here usually, alone at three in the morning, trying to figure out why my code kept throwing errors. And now...”

“And now you’ve got a mate who’ll bring you hot takeout at three in the morning while you figure out code errors,” Cord finished with a grin.

Billy laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “Among other things.” He took a bite of his burger, savoring the familiar flavors. “Though I have to say, having someone to furniture shop with is definitely a perk. Even if you did veto my beanbag chair idea.”

“We’re adults, Billy. We’re not having beanbag chairs in our living room.”

“But they’re comfortable, and practical, and…”

“And not comfortable for two of us to sit in together. We’re getting the sectional,” Cord said firmly, but his eyes were warm with affection. “You can have one beanbag chair. For your office.”

Billy perked up. “Really?”

“Really. But I get to pick the color.”

“Deal.” Billy held out his pinkie, and Cord, after a moment of amused confusion, linked his own with it.

The simple gesture, childish as it was, made Billy’s heart swell. This was his life now - furniture shopping and pinkie promises and someone who’d make sure he ate actual meals instead of just surviving on energy drinks and determination.

“I love you,” Billy said suddenly, the words tumbling out between bites of his burger. “I just... I wanted to say that. Here. Where it all started.”

Cord’s expression softened, and he lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to Billy’s knuckles. “Love you too, sweetheart. Even if you do put an unholy amount of sauce on everything.”

“It’s good sauce,” Billy insisted, deliberately dipping another fry into the container. “You just have no appreciation for the finer things in life.”

“I’ve got you,” Cord pointed out. “Pretty sure that counts as appreciating the finest thing in life.”

Billy groaned, but he was smiling. “That was terrible. Truly awful. I’m revoking your romance privileges.”

“You can try,” Cord said with a wicked grin that made Billy’s stomach flip in ways that had nothing to do with hunger.

/~/~/~/~/

Cord felt the shift in Billy’s emotions through their bond before he even looked up from his burger.

The sudden spike of anxiety and old hurt hit him like a physical blow, making his wolf bristle with protective instinct.

His head snapped up to see a middle-aged couple approaching their table, and even without the bond, Billy’s body language told him everything - the way his mate went rigid, shoulders hunching slightly, fingers tightening around his glass.

“William.” The woman’s voice was sharp, cutting through the comfortable buzz of conversation in the Wonky Pig. She was dressed in what Cord’s mother would call “trying too hard” - a beige pantsuit that looked expensive but somehow still managed to seem cheap.

The man beside her - Billy’s father, Cord’s wolf supplied with a growl - stood with his arms crossed, jaw set in a way that made Cord want to bare his teeth.

“Mom. Dad.” Billy’s voice came out steady, but Cord could feel the tremor underneath, the way his mate was fighting to keep control.

“Don’t you ‘Mom and Dad’ us,” Billy’s father snapped. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What people are saying about us all because of you?”

Cord’s hand found Billy’s thigh under the table, a silent show of support. Through their bond, he sent waves of calm strength, even as his own anger began to build.

“What I’ve done?” Billy’s voice cracked slightly. “I haven’t…”

“People are talking,” his mother interrupted, her perfectly manicured nails drumming against her purse. “Saying we threw out our own son when he was just eighteen. An omega! Do you know how that makes us look?”

“Makes you look?” The words came out before Cord could stop them, low and dangerous. Both parents turned to him, seeming to notice him for the first time.

“And who are you?” Billy’s father demanded.

“Cord. Billy’s mate.” He let a hint of alpha dominance color his voice, watched with satisfaction as they both took an involuntary step back.

“Mate?” His mother’s face went pale. “You mated with… of course you did. First you embarrass us by being... what you are, and now this.”

“What he is,” Cord said slowly, his wolf pushing closer to the surface, “is an incredible, brilliant, kind omega who survived being thrown out by his own parents at eighteen. Who built a life for himself with no help from anyone. Who…”

“Cord.” Billy’s hand covered his, squeezing gently. Through their bond, Cord felt not just hurt but exhaustion. This wasn’t new pain - this was old, scarred over, but still tender.

“We need you to fix this,” Billy’s father said, ignoring Cord entirely. “Tell people it wasn’t like that. That we had our reasons.”

“Your reasons?” Billy’s laugh was hollow.

“Which reasons would those be, Dad? The four years of telling me I was wrong, broken, disgusting? The way you made me eat alone because you couldn’t stand to look at me?

Or maybe the part where you changed the locks while I was at school and left my stuff in garbage bags on the lawn? ”

The emotion pouring through their bond made Cord’s chest tight. Cord had believed that Billy had just been kicked out of home, but what he was describing was years of systematic emotional abuse, starting when Billy was just fourteen. A child.

“You were confused,” his mother said, but her voice lacked conviction. “We thought if we were firm…”

“You thought if you were cruel enough, I’d stop being an omega.

” Billy’s voice was stronger now, and Cord felt a surge of pride.

His mate was finding his voice, just like he had at Paradox, just like he had with Brandon.

“But that’s not how it works. And now you want me to lie to make you look better? ”

“It’s affecting our standing in the community,” his father said stiffly, glancing around as if worried about being overheard. “People are gossiping, turning away from us in restaurants and retail outlets. Your mother’s book club…”

“Her book club?” Cord couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Are you seriously standing here, asking the son you abused and abandoned to lie about what he went through, so your wife doesn’t feel awkward at book club?”

“Abused is a strong word,” Billy’s mother protested.

“Is it?” Billy leaned forward slightly, and Cord felt the shift in him - from hurt to something fiercer.

“What would you call telling a fourteen-year-old omega that he’s an embarrassment to the family?

That he’s weak, pathetic, an abomination only fit for the gutter.

A piece of shit that no alpha would ever want?

What would you call four years of that, Mom? ”

The diner around them had gone quiet, conversations trailing off as people noticed the confrontation. Cord recognized several faces from around town, including Doris from the furniture shop where they had just been looking at couches. She was glaring at Billy’s parents, and if looks could kill...

“That’s enough,” Billy’s father said. “We’re not having this conversation here.”

“Then where?” Billy asked. “You want to have it at the house I’m not allowed in? The one where you told me I was dead to you?”

“We never said…”

“‘No son of mine,’” Billy quoted, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what you said. ‘No son of mine.’ Well, guess what? I’m not your son. I haven’t been for five years. I survived without you. I thrived without you. And I’m not going to lie for you now.”

Cord’s wolf was practically vibrating with the need to protect, to fight, to chase these people away from his mate. But this was Billy’s battle, and he was handling it beautifully.

“You’re being selfish,” his mother said, tears starting to form in her eyes. But they weren’t tears of remorse, Cord realized. They were tears of frustration, of embarrassment.

“No,” Billy said simply. “I was being selfish when I kept hoping you’d change, that you’d want me back. But you don’t want me back. You just want me to lie for you or shut up.”

“Billy…” his father started.

“I think you should leave.” Cord stood, letting his full height and alpha presence fill the space. “Now.”

Billy’s parents looked between them, and Cord saw the moment they realized they’d lost. Whatever they’d expected from their confrontation - Billy cowering, apologizing, agreeing to their demands - it wasn’t happening.

“This isn’t over,” his father said.

“Yeah,” Billy said quietly, “it is. I never want to speak to you again.”

They left in a huff, his mother’s heels clicking sharply against the floor. The diner remained quiet for a moment longer before Doris’s voice cut through.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish!” she called out, and suddenly the place erupted in clapping and a couple of cheers.

Cord sat back down, immediately pulling Billy against his side. Through their bond, he felt a complicated mix of emotions - pain, relief, pride, exhaustion.

“You okay?” he murmured against Billy’s temple.

“Yeah,” Billy said, and Cord felt the truth of it through their connection. “Yeah, I think I am. It’s just... I always wondered what I’d say if I saw them again. I had all these speeches planned in my head.”

“I thought you did pretty damn well without a script.”

Billy huffed out a laugh. “My therapist would be proud. Well, I mean, if I had a therapist. Cece’s going to be insufferable when he hears about this.”

“Want to go home?” Cord asked, pressing a kiss to Billy’s hair.

“Not yet.” Billy straightened, picking up his abandoned fry. “I want to finish my lunch. In my favorite diner. With my mate. And if certain people don’t like that, then they can just avoid the Wonky Pig from now on.”

Cord grinned, pride swelling in his chest. “That’s my omega.”

“Damn right I am,” Billy said, and for the first time since his parents had approached, his smile reached his eyes.