Page 12 of Small Town Shy Omega
Dreydon nodded, the third pack member joining me. “You’ve got strength, Layla. Strength within. Maintaining this forest cottage is totally in your purview, and… We’re here tospeed up the process.Do what you could totally do, but we’ll just do it a bit faster. Extra fuel.”
I swooned, my head supported by Dreydon’s strong frame. Each Alpha supported me, some more emotionally, some physically—but each contributed to manual labor.
“Thank you,” I whispered, more burning in my eyes. I hadn’t expected my Alphas to build me up like this. Build my confidence.
I could… do these cottage tasks, clean my yard, pick the big branches out that Dreydon, Josh, and Blake carried out so effortlessly.Not only did they carry them, they sawed them in masculine pieces, so they would be used for firewood.
I could do all these tasks, damnit—I was strong, I could figure out how to use the five-ton saw Josh used without breaking a sweat.
But… my Alphas did it for me. They made it so I could read, relax and eat sherbet cookies on my porch… while respecting the fact that they knew—theydid know—that if I wished, I could’ve jumped up, and cleared my garden by myself.
Next day, I went out at dawn. Mauve sunlight poured over my garden, bubbling and pink. I planted all the flowers Josh had helped me pick out at the farmers’ market, my marigolds and geraniums and little mums.
I got to do thefunwork in my garden, and three big tears rolled down my cheeks. Like magic fertilizer, those flowers that the tears touched bloomed even more radiantly, and the Alphas joked that my tears were life-giving.
“They do the things I don’t want,” I whispered, fingers covered in earth. I loved the texture of dirt, though the little worms clinging to my hands weren’t so fun. “I don’t like weeding, I don’t like mending my fence. They… helped.”
Other Alphas?
A laugh escaped me, for my last pack demanded I learn how to snake a toilet. A toilet, really—not that Icouldn’t,I could and did many times, but…
What Alphas, self-respecting or not, really demanded their Omega snake theirtoilet?“And the shower,” I murmured, the memories unpleasant. How would they really think their Omega would see them, would I see them as… men? As men, who sat on a smelly sofa, playing video games while I, a pretty, fair Omega, snaked a shower drain—mainly to pull out their beard hair?
I appreciate you,read the note. I barely glanced at it: I was in a hurry to get to the optometrist, but when I saw it…
I stopped.
Lifting the note, pure feeling tugged at my heart.An Omega is nothing but pure feeling,I thought to myself, studying the lovely note. I was an eternal well of feeling: I was an open heart. I flipped the note over, shocked that more words were on the backside.
I appreciate you,all you do, and every day in your presence is a miracle. Please don’t cry today, sweet Layla. You deserve one day without tears…
— Blake
I calmly wentto the optometrist. My glasses were outdated, my prescription needed updating.
Halfway through the examination, I realized I was crying.
Tears rolled down behind the scary metal machine, and I had to fan myself, apologizing profusely to the doctor.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, wanting to sound strong and confident… but I didn’t.
I could,I reminded herself, refusing to seem so weak and vulnerable in front of the optometrist.If I really wanted to get it together, I could.
Or maybe… I couldn’t.
Earlier that morning, Josh had given me a foot rub when I woke up, complaining that my left ring toe was sore… And Dreydon had let me decide on cereal for breakfast, when he’d wanted eggs.
Today, I couldn’t.
I just let the tears flow, and I had to fan myself with a spare eye chart the optometrist had lying around. A J L Z F I —that’s what the first line read, but I couldn’t see the others through my tears.
I cried, because my Alphas were so kind to me… they wrote me notes, and I knew other packs did not treat Omegas so kindly.
Other packs treated their Omegas like my exes treated me—never waiting on me, never massaging my foot after some misfortune had befallen my left ring toe. Other packs demanded that their Omegas snake the shower drain, whereas here my pack was, not only snaking drains and re-fencing my garden, but writing me gentle notes of appreciation.
I kept the note close to my chest as I went out to lunch with a girlfriend, an Omega named Irene.
“And then,” I sighed, poking at my chicken rosemary lemon rice, “my former mother-in-law…”
