Page 101 of Omega's Formula
“I know you said one night,” he says. “And I know you need time to think. But Nolan—whatever you decide, wherever you want to be—I want to be there too. With you. With him.” He touches my stomach gently. “I don’t care what it looks like. I’ll move to Portland if that’s what you need. I’ll fly back and forth every week. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I reach up and brush a snowflake from his hair. “Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay? See where things go.”
But even as I’m saying it, I know that this is it. It’s going to be one day at a time for the rest of our lives.
26. Erik
“That one too.”
The delivery man pauses, the sleek glass coffee table balanced between him and his colleague. “You’re sure? This is a really nice piece.”
“I’m sure. It has corners.”
He exchanges a look with his partner. It’s the kind of look that saysrich people are insanebut they carry it out without further comment. I watch them go, mentally checking another item off my list.
The penthouse is in chaos. There are people everywhere: the delivery team removing furniture, a carpenter assembling a crib in what used to be my home office, a contractor installing safety latches on every cabinet in the kitchen. It’s controlled chaos, but chaos nonetheless.
Nolan is napping in the bedroom. He’s been exhausted lately, the final weeks of pregnancy taking their toll. The doctor says everything is progressing normally, but I still worry. I can’t seem to stop worrying.
“You know the baby won’t be crawling for at least six months, right?”
I turn to find Ellie watching me from my desk—her desk now, really, given how much time she spends there. She’s surroundedby college brochures and her laptop is open to what looks like an application portal.
“I’m aware.”
“And yet you’ve removed every piece of furniture with a sharp edge, installed outlet covers in rooms the baby will never enter, and I’m pretty sure I saw someone testing the window locks earlier.”
“The window locks needed updating anyway.”
She grins, not buying it for a second. “You’re nesting. It’s adorable. You know that’s supposed to be an omega thing, right?”
“I am not nesting. I’m being practical.” I step aside as another delivery man passes with a box marked BABY MONITOR - PREMIUM. “There’s a lot to do before the baby arrives, and I’d rather be overprepared than under.”
The nursery team emerges from the back room, their leader consulting a tablet. “Mr. Nilsson? The crib is assembled and we’ve installed the changing station. Did you want the rocking chair by the window or in the corner?”
“By the window. The light is better there.”
The team disappears back into the nursery.
“How’s the application going?” I ask Ellie, partly to distract myself.
“Almost done. Just need to finish my personal statement.” She makes a face. “Turns out ‘I spent the last year almost dying and watching my brother’s dramatic love life unfold’ doesn’t fit neatly into five hundred words.”
“You could focus on the academic aspects.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She types something, frowns, deletes it. “Actually, I’m writing about resilience.” She glances up at me. “Nolan helped me with it. He’s annoyingly good at this stuff.”
“He’s annoyingly good at most things.”
“Gross. No heart eyes at my brother when I’m in the room.”
“I wasn’t—” I stop, because I absolutely was. I’m a heart eyes meme every day these days. I still can’t quite believe my luck. Nolan moved back to the city one week after that first scan together and moved in here three days after that. We renewed our vows last month, properly this time, with flowers and cake and Ellie as the officiant because she got ordained online specifically for the occasion.
It’s not the life I imagined for myself. It’s better.
“He’s due any day now,” Ellie says, reading my mind. “You must be going crazy.”
“The due date isn’t for another week.”