Page 94 of Omega's Faith

"And we'll figure it out. Like we always do."

"Through spectacular fights and grudging compromises?"

"And really good make-up sex."

I laugh, startling Samuel, who gives us a disgruntled look before returning to his meal.

"I never thought I'd have this," I admit. "A family. A real home. Someone who loves me despite knowing exactly how fucked up I am."

"You're not fucked up. You're complicated. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"Yes." He's firm about this. "Look at us, being all emotionally evolved."

Samuel finishes nursing, and I take him to burp while Jonah gets comfortable. He's so tiny against my shoulder, warm and solid and real.

A knock at the door interrupts us. Mrs. Atkins peeks in.

"Sorry to disturb, but there's rather a lot of press at the gates. Apparently, someone leaked that the baby was born."

Of course they did. Even this moment can't be entirely private.

"We’ve got a statement ready.” I tell her. I was going to read it myself, but I don’t want to read this room. Even crossing to the window to my briefcase to get it is three steps too far from my newborn son.

“Mrs. Atkins, would you mind asking Ricky to read it out for me?”

We're thrilled to announce the birth of our son, Samuel Robert Colborne. Omega and baby are doing well. We ask for privacy as we adjust to life as a family.

Simple, direct, and giving them nothing to speculate about. Well, they'll speculate anyway. They always do.

Ricky and Diana handle the rest, as they always does. Within an hour, the press has their story and hopefully will leave us alone for a while.

"How long do you think we have before they start speculating about baby number two?" Jonah asks.

I choke on air. "Baby number two? You just spent six hours screaming that you were never letting me touch you again."

"That was the pain talking. I've already forgotten how bad it was."

"You literally gave birth three hours ago."

"And look how perfect he turned out." He gazes at Samuel with such love it makes my chest ache. "Maybe he needs a sibling. In a few years."

"A few years," I agree weakly. "Let's master keeping this one alive first."

"Deal."

As if on cue, Samuel starts crying. Not the angry cry from earlier, but something softer, needier.

"He's probably hungry again," Jonah says, already moving to nurse him.

I watch them, my omega and our son, and feel that overwhelming sense of rightness again. This is it. This iseverything.

My phone buzzes with messages—congratulations from friends, from board members, from people I haven't talked to in years. The official announcement has clearly made the rounds.

One message stands out. Saskia:Congratulations, darling.

I show it to Jonah, who shrugs. "She did us a favor, in a way."

"Very generous of you."

"I can afford to be generous. I won." He grins at me, that bright, beautiful smile that still makes my heart skip. "I got you, didn't I?"

"Pretty sure I'm the one who won here, church mouse."

We lie there in the gathering darkness, listening to Samuel's tiny snores. Tomorrow the chaos will start again—visitors, decisions, the reality of keeping a tiny human alive and happy. But right now, in this moment, everything is perfect.

The End