Page 95 of Omega's Formula

“Erik.”

We stand there, ridiculous and awkward, neither of us sure what to say. All my rehearsed speeches have evaporated.

Ellie clears her throat loudly. “So. Ice skating. That’s still the plan, right? Because I didn’t get all bundled up like amarshmallow just to sit here and watch you two be weird at each other.”

The tension breaks. Nolan laughs and the sound hits me like a punch to the solar plexus.

“Yeah,” he says. “Still the plan. Come on, let’s get you some skates. Just remember the deal.”

“What’s the deal?” I ask.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Well, he’s not going on the ice because he doesn’t want to risk falling with the baby and I’m not allowed on the ice on my own so he’s making me use one of the skating aids.” She gestures with her head to the side of the rink. The adult aids look like walking frames. The children’s ones are shaped like penguins.

Nolan gives her a wry look. “We had quite the argument about it but then she pointed out that she’s been stuck in a hospital bed for months so I lost that argument. I think this is a decent compromise.”

I help her lace up her boots as Nolan watches, then the assistant helps her onto the ice, making sure she has a firm grip on the skating aid. She’s wobbly at first, but her face is determined.

“I used to be good at this,” she says, concentrating on her feet. “Before I got sick. Nolan and I would come here every winter.”

I glance at Nolan beside me. He’s standing by the railing, focused on Ellie, but there’s a soft smile on his face.

“We’d get hot chocolate afterward,” he says. “From that cart by the south entrance.”

“The one with the tiny marshmallows,” Ellie adds. “They never give you enough. You have to ask for extra.”

We make slow circles around the edge of the rink, Ellie moving in the rink and us beside her walking next to the railing.

“Can you skate?” she asks me.

“Badly.”

“Really? You actually do it yourself. I’d have bet you’d just pay people to do it for you,” she says but there’s a twinkle in her eye.

“Everything else,” I say. “Not this.”

“Erik’s been learning to cook,” Ellie says to Nolan, and my heart soars. Now, I know what’s happening here. She’s playing match maker. I have his sister’s approval. This means everything.

Apparently, Nolan gets the same message because he stops walking and stares at me.

“Really?”

“Really.” The cooking wasn’t a big deal or at least it didn’t feel like it. I don’t like feeling like I’m bad at something. “I even do my own dishes now too.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Really?” he says again, but this time there’s a definite tone of disbelief.

“Okay, sort of.” I admit. “I’ve been loading my own dishwasher. It counts.”

I thought I knew what I wanted from a marriage. Previously, when I thought about my omega, they were fairly faceless, just someone in the background, another part of my life like my job or my personal assistant or the board of directors: someone who fulfilled a role.

Now when I think about who my omega might be, all I can see is Nolan and even in my imagination, I can’t see him sitting quietly at home, politely folding my socks and picking up after me. At least not without an enormous argument where he tells me what a massive douche I am being.

Nolan stares at me. Then he takes a deep breath. “I think Ellie’s getting tired.”

“I am not—” Ellie starts, then catches something in her brother’s expression. “Actually, yeah. Maybe a little. We should probably head back.”

The walk back to the hospital is quieter. Ellie walks the whole way, chattering about her plans for when she’s fully discharged—going back to school, getting her own apartment, all the things she’s been dreaming about during the long months of treatment. I answer her questions and make appropriate noises, but most of my attention is on Nolan, walking beside us in silence.

“That was fun,” Ellie says as we drop her off at her room, squeezing my hand. “Thank you for coming.”