Page 108 of Heat Clinic

I ball my hands into fists until my freshly manicured nails bite into my palm. “It’s Orello, not Thorne. And if you’re so ashamed of me for being an omega, then Iwantyou to leave. Go.”

Someone I don’t know takes a step forward to intervene, and I lose my nerve, giving into the impulse to run. I push through the crowd and duck into the hallway, my heart pounding in my throat as I flee. There’s nowhere to go. We’re dozens of stories up, and I don’t actually want to leave. I just need a minute. I need a moment where I can sit and calm myself. Where people aren’t staring at me.

Someone is coming down the hallway from the other end. I duck into the nearest room and realize it’s the coat check. The attendant’s gone, probably on her break, and I decide this’ll work. I shove through the racks of winter coats until I hit the back, and then I sit. My dress puffs up around me, billowing with air. I grab fistfuls of the coats hanging before me and tug them together on their rack to hide me from view.

The tears fall, probably ruining my carefully applied makeup, and I press my forehead to my knees and cry. Why does she always ruin everything? Why can’t she just be happy for me? She’ll never be what I want her to be, and wishing she were is an exercise in frustration for both of us. My mother genuinely doesn’t understand why our relationship is strained, and it doesn’t matter how I explain it. She consistently twists herself into the victim.

Someone grabs the coats shielding me and pulls them apart. It’s Tom. He looks down at me sitting there on the dirty floor in my expensive white dress.

“I just needed a minute.” I pat my damp cheeks, trying not to disturb the makeup more than it already is. “I’ll come back once I’ve pulled myself together.”

Tom frowns, his lips thinning into a flat line, and then the expression smooths out. He holds up a bottle of champagne. “I nicked this. Want some?”

“God, yes.”

He sits down on the floor next to me, his long legs poking out beyond the next track as he hands me the bottle and adjusts the coats, covering us so nobody walking down the hallway will see us through the coat check’s opening.

I wrap my lips around the opening and drink until the bubbles make me want to sneeze. “How’d you find me?” I hand it to him.

“Hmm. When the bride runs away from her own ceremony, people tend to notice. I caught an echo of your distress through the bond.” He lifts the bottle to his mouth and drinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

“Sorry.” I’ve made a mess of things. I shouldn’t have yelled at her, then run off crying to throw myself a pity party. People flew in for this from across the ocean, and I’m making things awkward and weird.

“You didn’t want this party,” Tom says. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I tried to tell him, but he thought you were just being shy. That you didn’t want to ask. You don’t like to ask for the things you want.”

My throat feels like an apple’s lodged in it. “I’m sorry.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them and looks at me, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Sorry for what? I didn’t want this either. I’m glad we probably get to leave early now.” He tugs at the collar of his shirt, loosening his tie. “This thing is starched to high heaven. It keeps stabbing me whenever I turn my head.”

“You aren’t mad you don’t get to spend more time with your family?” They came such a long way to see him. To meet me and Sam and celebrate with us.

He’s silent for a long while, but I don’t pressure him to speak before he’s ready. If anyone understands what I go through, it’s him. “Families like ours are difficult. I think my family always hoped I’d turn out to be an alpha like my father. It took me a long time to realize I’ll never live up to their expectations no matter what I do and even longer to decide I shouldn’t care. I’m happy with my choices because they were mine. And because they brought me to all of you.”

I take the champagne from him and drink, then set it down and lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder. He finds my hand in the folds of my skirts and threads our fingers together.

That’s how Sam finds us. He shoves the coats aside and gives me a lopsided, silly grin. “Cozy. I like it.” He joins us, sitting on my other side, and tugs the coats back into place.

“How’d you find us?” I ask, handing him the pilfered champagne.

“Coats don’t talk. It wasn’t hard to figure it out. You okay? I felt whatever happened.” He drains the bottle and sets it down.

Okay, as far as hiding places go, maybe it wasn’t the most well thought out, but to be fair, I wasn’t thinking straight when I darted in here. “I’m fine. We should get back in there.” I sigh. I am not looking forward to it. Also, I need to find a mirror and check my face.

“What the fuck for?” Sam shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it onto the floor, then pulls his tie off too. “Oh, that’s better. Can we go home now?”

Home. That’s what I want. The thought of it fills me with longing. I want to curl up in our nest and cuddle and fall asleep with my pack pressed against me. I’d like to forget how this night ended and only think about the way they looked at me when they saw me walk out. That’s what matters.

Tom leans his head against mine, the weight of it comforting. “This wasn’t your fault.”

My heart squeezes with affection. It means a lot to hear that. For someone to see it and acknowledge that I tried, and it’s okay to be mad at her when she does something like this, even though she’s my mother.

I will never make my children feel like my love is conditional.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I sigh and let the breath out slowly, breathing out the pain and frustration until I feel calmer. More centered.

Tom’s phone rings, breaking the silence, and he fishes it out of his pocket. “Hello? Yeah. Sam and I have her. Coat closet. No, inside. What do you mean, where? I told you. Inside the coat closet.” Tom stands and leans on the rack. He hangs up his phone and tucks it away. “We’re leaving, right?”

Marcus’s side of the bond is tense until Tom turns around and puts a hand out for me. He pulls me up from the floor, and I smooth my skirts out. Sam joins us, gathering his suit jacket and tie off the floor.

---