Page 10 of Claiming Their Omega

“How—how can you say that?” I stutter. I feel like my brain isn’t working. I know I should be saying something, but I can’t seem to find any words. You’re in shock, a distant part of my brain realizes. But just because I know I’m in shock doesn’t seem to get it to stop.

The cool evening breeze kisses my skin and I shiver. I’m in heels and a skirt, my hair all done up, I look cute. I always look cute. I always dress so nicely for him, sophisticated, elegant. He said he liked that about me.

I think about the glimpse of what I saw in the texts and I want to burst into tears. “Are you cheating on me? Answer me. Something—anything, I just want to know. Stop staring at me like I’m babbling nonsense!”

“You are babbling,” William replies. “And I’m not going to try to have a conversation with you when you’re like this. You need to calm down. You look like you’re going to pass out or hyperventilate.”

“Are you serious right now? I’m too upset for you? I just saw a woman say that she wants your cock, again. She’s already had it. How am I supposed to feel about that?”

William just shakes his head, like I’m speaking gibberish. I don’t understand how he can be so calm. So cold. “It’s nothing, Grace. Stop getting so in your head about it.”

I cross my arms. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“Okay. I see that you’re going to need some time to calm down. That’s fine. The night air’s nice anyway and it’s not far to the hotel.”

He turns and walks away without another word, down the road, toward the hotel.

I stare after him. “Am I in The Twilight Zone?” I demand out loud.

My boyfriend is apparently cheating on me, and just told me it was no big deal, acted like I was crazy for being angry about it, and is now walking away from me like he’s having a nice little jaunt after dinner.

What the actual fuck.

I stare after him until I can’t see him anymore, then it’s like my limbs unlock and come to life.

“You motherfucker!” I scream.

My voice rings out through the empty country air, nobody around to hear me. If William could hear that, he’s too far away for me to tell. Especially when it’s dusky like this.

I fumble open the passenger door to grab my purse, and I realize I’m shaking. I’m shaking so hard that I can’t get my phone out, and my grip on my purse is so weak that I accidentally drop it on the ground, causing a few items to spill out.

“Fuck!”

I snatch my purse back up, but instead of anything useful, I find myself beating it against the car, screaming and cursing.

“You fucking cheating bastard! You faithless piece of shit!”

Dimly, in my peripheral, I hear footsteps.

“You better not fucking touch me,” I bite out, kicking the car. “You asshole, putting your hands all over her! I don’t want you touching me, I don’t want your comfort…”

Someone clears his throat, and I get a whiff of a scent: oak barrels, toasted coconut, and homemade peach cobbler. It’s instantly soothing, and also, very much not William’s scent.

I turn to see Easton standing there. He looks speechless. Not like he usually is, which is just naturally quiet, but rather like he’s not sure what to actually say.

God, I must look like a mess. I quickly wipe at my eyes.

“H-hello Easton.”

My voice cracks a little and I can feel myself flushing. Great. Not only did my boyfriend just humiliate me, but now I’m humiliating myself.

“Grace. Uh…” Easton looks me up and down. “You seem to be in a pickle.”

“I’m not in a pickle,” I snarl. I whack the car with my purse a few more times. “But somebody’s going to be.”

Easton gently takes my wrist, stopping me from hitting the car anymore, and tugs me away. “I can’t let you do that.”

I yank my arm away. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

---