Page 40 of Who We Were

"Why are we moving?"

"Do you not listen?!"

I flinch and rethink my response. "Can I come see houses with you?" I ask softly so my tone doesn't upset her further.

"Oh, youcanlearn. Yes, you'll see how much better life is once we aren't suffocating under this roof."

This roof?This is home, though. Where I've always lived. I love it here. But it can't hurt to meet these Jenkins people and see what they do.

I bet they are old like my mom. OH! Maybe they know my dad!

28

AMAYA

Ithink I've settled enough because I'm pretty sure I've made a little nest. It's not great by any means—my omega growls in my head—but it'ssomething.

I have three soft pillows, one behind me and the others cocooning me on my sides. The sheet I've been dragging around for six days is the main steeple of my cozy spot, since Vincent has made a point to snuggle in it with me the past few days.

‘Yes, mate.’

I think my omega is resulting to cavewoman speak since I've relaxed on the wall keeping us separate. Except, I'm not sure this isn't us beingseparate. Should I be hearing her?

‘Nest.’

"I know it's our nest," I huff and tuck one of Vincent's shirts into the crack of the couch beside my face.

‘Sniff.’

"Stop. I know. Why do you think I put it there?" I question in exasperation only for frustration to take its place. It's not good enough, so much is missing, but I can't fucking figure it out.

‘Mate.’

Not to fucking mention I'm a freak who converses with herself. Make no mistake, my omegashould notbe a separate entity from me, but nothing I'm doing is working. Nothing!

‘Mate.’

"I'm going to scream, Amy!" I warn, flinging myself from the couch and stomping.

Yes, I named my omega the nickname that drives me up the wall. It suits her. Vincent told me to listen to my instincts, but they're a broken fucking record!

"Mate, mate, mate, she says. Sniff she says," I growl low, glaring at my sheet, blanket and three pillows like they are supposed to solve all my issues.

‘Yes.’

I throw my hands in the air, feeling like I'm dealing with a petulant child. "That helps me innoway."

Ding dong.

Feeling a little unhinged, I joke to the voice in my head, "Let me do the talking." I snort like a crazy lady and open the front door.

On my porch stands Vincent, who I'm not surprised to see, but next to him is my—is Paul.

‘Snow,’ my omega says like I didn't already know our scents mix like a family would. He is my dad after all, even if he doesn't want to be.

That reminds me. "Hello?"

Instead of replying with a normal response, Paul glares at Vincent. "Did you know he was out here sleeping on your porch?"

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