Page 63 of Omega's Faith

"Alex! Is it true you've separated already?"

"Where is Jonah?"

"Are you getting divorced?"

I stop, let them settle. The old Alex would have ducked into a car, let Diana handle it later. But I'm trying to be different. I’mtrying to be someone who faces things.

"Jonah and I have separated," I say clearly. "We're taking time apart to evaluate our relationship and what's best for both of us."

"Who left who?"

"He left me. My lifestyle is not compatible with his values and I understand that.”

"Does that mean you’re seeing someone else?"

"No."

"Is he?"

"I wouldn't know, but I doubt it. Jonah takes marriage very seriously."

"More seriously than you?"

"Definitely more seriously than me."

"Do you think you'll reconcile?"

I think about lying, but what would be the point? "It’s unlikely. We’re very different people, but I wish him well. He’s a good man with a strong moral compass. He deserves a lot of happiness."

I push through them after that, ignoring follow-up questions. My car is waiting. I've been driving myself lately, another small change. The reporters snap photos as I pull away.

My phone buzzes with a text from Diana:Nicely done.

Another from Ricky:Proud of you, asshole.

Six days sober. One week since he left. Thirty-four years old and finally, maybe, starting to grow up. All I can do now is keep off the alcohol one day at a time and maybe I’ll get a life that’s more than going viral because I’ve done something stupid yet again.

16. Jonah

I spend the first week in bed. I’ve never done not, not even when I had chickenpox. I feel worse than that now. I suppose it’s a kind of illness, losing one’s alpha even if that alpha was the wrong one from the beginning.

The quilt my grandmother made smells of the cedar chest where Mom stores it in summer. It should smell comforting and like home, but it doesn’t.

The twin bed creaks when I roll over, which I do constantly, trying to find a position where my body doesn't ache for something I can't have.

I am a mess of a human being. I couldn’t bear to leave and now I can’t bear to be here. I can’t bear to be at Alex’s estate and I can’t bear to be away.

It’s my hormones, I tell myself. I’m in withdrawal from a prime match. I just need to wait it out.

But all I can think of is the raw honesty in Alex’s voice when he said, “God took both my parents before I was eighteen.”

Is that what’s wrong with him? Just one more broken man numbing himself with alcohol. It can’t just be that. Other alphas lose their parents young and don’t grow up to be sarcastic, rude, drunk and irresponsible.

It doesn’t matter what caused it because

all I can think about is how miserable he looked.

Even when he was being an absolute ass, even when he wasdrunk and cruel, there was always this deep undercurrent of misery.