Page 7 of Unbreak Me

"Jan! Not every omega is like that!"

"The ones I met were. Maybe I had bad luck. Maybe I wasn't jacked enough back then. But you don’t understand the energy, expectations, and stereotypes between alphas and omegas."

Silence fell between us.

Uncle Frank closed his eyes briefly, mimicking what I had done earlier. "We’ve had this conversation countless times, Jan, and you reset yourself after every discussion. So I’ll do the same: You’re a strikingly handsome guy and a good person! Someone will see past your height, I promise."

He was right. I kept resetting myself—or rather, life kept doing it for me.

Seeing no point in arguing, I turned to wash my hands under cool water, brooding over my choices.

Uncle Frank had been harping on this since I graduated from the Agricultural Academy. He constantly talked about family, my future husband, and seeing his grandnephews. He wouldn't stop. I loved him, but he didn’t understand what it was like to be seen as lacking, to feel impaired.

"Uncle, you don’t compete for omegas with other alphas," I whispered.

Maybe it was unfair to bring up his sex, but he couldn’t grasp the relentless gender expectations and dynamics alphas faced.

"And you don’t deal with the hormones, urges, and primal drive."

"But I deal with one stubborn quitter—and that's an even tougher case!" He crossed his arms with an ironic grimace.

I winced in anger. "Why did I give up? Remember when I came home with a black eye after my twenty-first birthday party? That's what happens when I try hitting on a beautifulomega. That punch was just the final straw. I quit because I’m not man enough for them! Some alpha always shoos me away, hurling insults. And in the countryside, if I’m lucky, it stops at one punch."

Uncle Frank rolled his eyes. "You're so exaggerating, kiddo. That was five years ago, and you let it hurt your pride. But you trained in martial arts for three years—now you could be the one punching others!"

"There are no prospects for me here anyway, Uncle."

"Well, now you live in the countryside. But for four years, you were in college, in the city. There were different people there, and you still—"

"They weren’t that different, Uncle. Believe me. Some things never change!" My voice rose unnecessarily and I sighed.

What should I do? How should I make him understand?

I was somewhat accustomed to him treating my problems lightly, almost disregarding them. Sometimes, I actually wanted to say something really rude, but… I never did.

Since my parents' death, Frank, as my godfather, had taken care of me, and every so often, he took this duty a bit too seriously… So I just inhaled and tried to calm down.

Should I kick him out of my house?

Eh… And what good would that do?

Suddenly, something occurred to me. I could just kind of hang around the fair, wait it out, and then come to him saying… "Look, it didn’t work out that well, you see? I’ve tried!"

That sounded like aplan! I sighed and shook my head, pretending I was giving in to his pressure.

The expression on his face was somewhat annoying, and I really wanted him to fail.

But wouldn't that mean I failed as well?

"Okay, Uncle. I will try," I whispered, lowering my gaze.

My head ached, and I fought the urge to rub my temples in frustration. I was probably a lost cause, or was it something I just chose to believe? Because there was nothing I was more afraid of than having hope and losing it again.

???

As Uncle Frank said, that's exactly what happened.

The next day, he came to me and almost forcibly dragged me out of the house while I grumbled, complained, and resisted.

---