Page 98 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
"How are you holding up?" I asked without preamble.
"Better than expected," he said, stepping back to let us in. "Worse than hoped. The phone's been ringing all day, but I haven't been answering."
"Journalists?" Willa asked.
"Some. Also lawyers, environmental groups, a few job recruiters." He paused, something like surprise crossing his face. "And three people from town who wanted to thank me."
"Thank you?" I repeated.
"For protecting the water supply," he said, settling into his chair. "Apparently there are people who understand what groundwater contamination would have meant for the community."
"More people than you think," Willa said gently. "The mood downtown is shifting. Once the shock wears off, I think you'll find this town is more forgiving than you expected."
"Maybe," he said, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced.
"The mayor wants to hold a public meeting tomorrow night," I said. "Let people ask questions, get accurate information about the environmental issues."
"Am I invited?" he asked with bitter humor.
"Not yet," I admitted. "But Willa made a pretty compelling argument for including your perspective."
He looked at her with something like surprise. "You stood up for me?"
"I stood up for the truth," she corrected. "And for the idea that people deserve to know all the facts before they make judgments."
"Why?" he asked quietly. "After everything my family name tried to put this town through, why would you advocate for me?"
"Because holding you responsible for their actions would be like holding me responsible for every terrible thing Sterling ever did," she said simply. "We're not our families. We're the choices we make when it matters."
The profound truth of her words seemed to hit him like a physical blow even if he didn’t have any idea who Sterling was. For a moment, I thought he might cry.
"Thank you," he said finally. "For seeing me as separate from my family. For believing I might be worth defending."
"Everyone's worth defending when they're trying to do the right thing," she said firmly.
As we prepared to leave, I found myself thinking about transformation again. How communities, like individuals, had the capacity to grow and change and become better versions of themselves. How sometimes it took crisis to reveal who people really were underneath their assumptions and prejudices.
"One more thing," I said as we reached the door. "If you decide you want to attend the meeting tomorrow, you'll have allies there. People who will make sure you get a fair hearing."
"People like you?" he asked.
"People like us," Willa corrected, and the warmth in her voice made it clear that she included all of our pack in that promise.
On the drive home, I found myself marveling at how much had changed in such a short time. Three weeks ago, I'd been a solitary conservationist fighting a losing battle against corporate development. Now I was part of a pack, professionally vindicated, and watching my omega become a force for justice and compassion in our community.
"Good day?" I asked, reaching over to take her hand.
"The best kind," she said, squeezing my fingers. "The kind where good people do good things and it actually makes a difference."
"Even when it's complicated and messy?"
"Especially when it's complicated and messy," she said with conviction. "That's when it matters most."
As we pulled into our driveway, surrounded by the forest that would remain protected thanks to one man's courage andconscience, I realized that victory didn't always look like what you expected. Sometimes it looked like a community learning to see past their assumptions. Sometimes it looked like an omega finding her voice and using it to defend others. Sometimes it looked like a pack that was strong enough to extend their protection beyond their own boundaries.
It was the most beautiful ordinary evening of my life.
Chapter 36
