Page 27 of Puck My Life

This is what they call unrequited love, isn’t it? I hate it. The day I met Mal was a Sunday. He was brought to us by the woman who brought me to the home. He was so much smaller than Deacon and Raynor at nine. Just tiny. He had these bruises on his face and arms from the other kids at other homes, and when he looked at me, I thought, he’s like a broken eagle. He just needs time and to heal, and he will soar like no other.

I was right.

He grew up golden and bright, and when my Mal flies, he soars.

And he breaks my heart.

I lay there trying to find happiness and contentment, but it’s gone, so I wriggle free, leaving him curled up around my pillow, and leave the room.

I pad down to Raynor’s room and knock. When he doesn’t answer, I enter the room and walk up behind him on his recliner. I slide my hands down his shoulders and hug him in the only way that’s allowed.

He pauses the game and lifts a hand to cover my arm, holding it there. We spent so many nights silently comforting each other with minimal touches. I like to think he can feel all the love I have for him when I come to him in these moments. It’s just him and me and the shadows on our souls.

I stay like that until my back starts to ache, and then I gently pull away. He resumes the game, and I silently exit the room the same way I entered it.

Making breakfast takes me a while, but I set the table and pour juice. Today I need something mundane and like it used to be. I need this.

Deacon comes into the kitchen in a pair of low-slung grey sweatpants. There’s a hickey on his right pec that wasn’t there yesterday. It’s a stark reminder that he’s got a girlfriend, and I shouldn’t be looking. I turn away and gesture to the table.

“Take a seat.”

“Sure. This looks really good.”

I preen because, at heart, I’m a caretaker, and the only thing I need from them is their admiration for me to feel validated, and this is so sad. Am I so happy with crumbs that common courtesy is enough to light my life? What the hell has happened to me?

Mal and Raynor come into the room talking about the practice today and take a seat. I dish up pancakes on each plate and turn, only to freeze when Indy comes in and sits down in my spot. She’s wearing a t-shirt and undies and nothing else.

No one says anything. They don’t even notice. Deacon leans across and kisses her, right there, and I realise that whatever we had is over.

I turn back to the stove and bite my lip, struggling with the desire to tip the hot pot of coffee over his head or to simply walk out. In the end, I serve up Indy’s pancakes, ignoring the way she bitches about them being unhealthy for her, and walk out of the room.

I don’t have work today. I need to kiss Stacey hard for taking today’s shift; it’s my last one. She’s my best work friend and has been absolutely enraged on my behalf over the way the guys act. I’m embarrassed it’s taken so long to wake up and smell the roses. But tonight, after everything is done, I’m going to call her with a delivery of her favourite wings and beer.

Still, I spend extra time getting ready, packing up my stuff and removing it from the bathroom. It’s soul-destroying.

They don’t know that was my last shower here. My last breakfast. I go into my room. I don’t have much. Courtesy of my upbringing, I can fit all my belongings into the boot of my car.

I sit on the edge of my bed and just stare at the wall. Am I really doing this? Am I really going to leave them?

I press the heel of my palm to the ache in my chest. Hurting them and myself is better in the long run. They will just end up casting me aside. I can’t watch them choose someone else.

I can’t be here and go through that.

And I can’t be the one who forces them into a life they don’t want. And an omega coming into her heat suddenly will leave them no choice but to be the ones to help me, and that will ruin any chance they might have of a future.

My door opens, and Deacon walks in, fully dressed. He doesn’t even notice my packed bags.

“We’re heading out now. Can you pick up some milk from the store?”

“I can’t.”

He pauses halfway to the door and turns back. “What?”

“I can’t. I’ve got plans.”

His mouth opens and closes. “Plans?”

I nod my head, unable to meet his eyes because if anyone could command the truth out of me, it would be Deacon Katz. I’ve never been able to lie to him, not successfully.