Page 13 of One Last Chance

“Hey! You’re all messy!” I shout, but it’s too late, and her paint-stained fingers dig into my cheeks as she pulls me close for a motherly kiss.

“Oh shut up,” she says with feigned anger and wipes her hands into her already stained shirt.

Mom comes up to us—still jerking her leg to get her feeling back—while I try to clean my face. “Good to see you, love,” she says, hugging me briefly. She’s been letting her natural hair grow out, and since the last time I saw her, several more visible strainsof gray adorn her long black mane. Exactly like we both told her, it doesn’t make her look older at all, only more charming. For being nearly fifty, she has a youthful face still, gray hair or not. “How was the traffic?”

A disgusted growl escapes me. “Don’t even talk to me about it.”

“I made some pie yesterday. Let’s have it in the dining room.” Ma saves me from having to work myself up about it and so we all move to the other side of the house. Momo bounces and tangles between our legs as we walk and though my mothers are used to it, I nearly fall over him three times.

I sprawl out on the couch with Momo next to me and roll my head back.

Mom sets herself on the armchair with a cup of coffee. “It’s only Monday, darling, and you already seem done with life. Stressed out.” She gives a pitying expression. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not stressed,” I murmur, closing my eyes. The text message lights the dark space deep within my mind’s eye.

“Oh, come on, you know I can tell,” she says, and I feel her chastising gaze fall upon me. “That Friday date—how did that go?”

Here we go…

Before I can reply, Ma sweeps in with a platter of some cut-up fruit and slices of apple pie. Her curling blonde locks slip out of her messy bun as she bends down to place it on the coffee table. “I hope you remember what I told you. If he said anything about your pheromones, it ishewho is a vain, ignorant human piece of trash. And frankly, you should be overjoyed he showed you his true face, because—”

I groan tiredly. “He said nothing like that, Ma.” Her overprotectiveness is touching, but a bit too much right now. I’ve heard this talk a million times ever since I presented and discovered that myflavoris less than desirable. I know she means well, and in essence, she’s right, but she has no idea howcomplicated things really are. How many people truly are that vein, and care about this sort of thing. Neither of them do.

Glancing at her as she sits on the armrest of the chair, wrapping her arm around Mom while they both give me worried glances, makes my heart ache.

They are happy, and they are normal. They could never understand. Not with how early in their lives they found each other, and how madly in love they’ve been ever since.

“What was wrong with him, then?” Mom asks, raising a brow. Her tone isn’t prodding, more like calculative. As always, she’s already trying to devise a perfectly logical and thought out plan to fix me, my life. “I don’t really know his mother that well, to be honest—I’ve only met her a couple of times at some social events—but she was always a great lady, and from what she told me, he sounded like a great catch.” Though her low, pensive tone gives no indication of it, I can’t help but feel judged. Like I’m some fuckup who was given yet another wonderful prospective partner and somehow messed up the opportunity or dared to be too selective.

My inner turmoil and utter desperation must translate outwards a little too well because when I blink, Ma is coming to sit with me. Squeezing my hands, she nuzzles against my shoulder and rests her head on it.

This is stupid. She shouldn’t have to comfort me like I’m five years old. I’m a grown-ass man, dammit…

I say nothing. I don’t explain or answer mom’s question. Instead, I sit there, soaking up their scent in a completely non-sensual way that is unique to families like ours. Their presence seeps into me and feels like balm on my soul. It doesn’t take long for Mom to join us as well, enclosing me from the other side, and Momo quickly seizes the opportunity for an uninterrupted, slobbery cuddle.

Do I really want that much? All I’ve ever wanted was something like this. An unbreakable bond of love, respect, and understanding.

“You will find your person, sweetheart,” Ma sounds in my ear. “Don’t lose hope, alright?”

Deep within my chest, my heart sinks even lower. I want to say that I might, but it probably won’t be with an alpha, and I know how much that goes against what they both think. Considering that possibility out loud is almost like giving up on love altogether to them. I can’t possibly explain to them that the same love they share might not be possible. That I’m hurt and tired of being used, tossed aside, and made to feel insignificant. Weird. Broken.

A flash of Rowland’s charismatic smile flashes through my mind. I guess he wasn’t trying to use me, and he certainly didn’t make me feel any less. He didn’t mention anything about my condition, either. But what are the chances of him being my shining north star? Statistically, they’re close to none. Zilch.

Yet…sitting sandwiched between my two wonderful parents, still radiating with joy and smitten with each other every single day, even though they’ve been together for thirty years, is making my fingers tingle and my mind turn to the phone in my pocket. Maybe there’s no harm in trying. In believing in the impossible odds.

With a sigh, the group hug finally releases, and I feel like a fresh clam being cracked open. Air rushes in again, and Momo uses the opportunity to claw at my chest to slide his tongue inside my nostril. “Oi!” I shout, pushing him off playfully.

“Ah, no more of this, it’s depressing,” Ma says while standing. She straightens her back and releases her hair, only to tighten it into a ponytail. “The sun is setting. Let’s go for a walk. The path by the river is going to be lovely.” The mention of the magical w-word immediately sends Momo into a frenzy. He starts racingfrom one side of the couch to another—with no regard for me sitting in the middle—and lets out sharp, whiny barks that pierce my ears.

“What about the food?” I ask.Though, I guess a walk wouldn’t be too bad.

Ma waves her hand dismissively. “We’ll take it with us. Let’s make a little picnic or something, it’ll be nice.”

“Come on,” Mom urges me, poking my shoulder. “You didn’t come here just to bog our home down with this negative energy. Can’t have that.” She shakes her head at me, feigning disgruntlement.

“Are you mocking me?!” Ma shouts from the kitchen, and we both laugh.

Putting my hands in my pockets, I sigh and hang my head down. “Alright. Just…let me go to the toilet,” I say in a low voice and head upstairs. As I walk up, I heard Mom go, “I would never,” and my simper grows even stronger, knowing it’s most likely followed by a kiss.I should visit more.

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