Page 62 of Thorns That Bloom
I succumb to the lure of my phone and stare at the screen for a moment, even though I shouldn’t. The blue light isn’t good for me.Thinkingisn’t good for me, either.
Theo’s message from today, asking me if a rice bowl with a bunch of veggies and sesame tofu sounds good as a lunch for tomorrow, is the first thing that pops up when I open the app.
I intended my answer to be something short and harsh, telling him we have to end this…thing we have. I know that if I told him I need to focus on myself and the baby, and that I never wish to see him again, he would accept it. What’s worse, I know he probably would’ve made it his life’s mission to arrange his life in a way that there would be zero chance I could ever accidentally walk into him at work from that moment onward.
The idea sends a pang of pain through my heart. And suddenly, I feel wrong. Wrong and completely foolish. Again.
I don’twantto say that to him. Nor do I want him to disappear from my life.
He seems happy enough to ignore what I did at the clinic. And clearly, whatever the hell is happening in my brain, it, too, is happy to have him around.
I answer with the salivating emoji and a thumbs up. When the message gets delivered and I have no way to take it back, I put the phone on my chest with a sigh, letting my head fall against the pillow.
“I won’t be a mess like this when you’re here,” I whisper to the baby. “I promise.”
And so the madness continues.
In the two weeks that follow, Theo and I eat lunch at our spot almost every day. He would probably bring me a new culinary delight every time, but I tell him it would feel like too much, so he settles on just slightly modifying them.
Today is sunny and warm, so the balcony feels like an even nicer oasis of peace, especially compared to clacking away on akeyboard in a windowless room, which I’m getting slightly tired of.
“I was thinking,” I say in between chewing on the delicious duck stir-fry he made, “aren’t your colleagues bothered about this?”
Theo frowns sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Spending your lunches with me. I always saw you with them in the cafeteria, chatting and having fun and… Well, you looked like you were pretty popular. A proper social butterfly.” I smirk because of how different that is from me.
Theo draws his brows together before laughing softly. “I don’t think they care where I spend my lunch, really. I’m the youngest. They all like to tease me a lot. I’m fine with it. It’s all good fun, but sometimes it gets a little annoying. Besides, it’s not like I don’t spend enough time with them throughout the day. Trust me, I welcome the break from those guys and all their shouting,” he says with a grin.
I nod and swirl the noodles, veggies, and meat around with the fork.
“I’ve never been much of a social person, so this is…nice,” I admit hesitantly.
A gust of wind blows in, sending my curls into my face. As I push them away, I flare my nostrils, and a realization hits me. I dart my eyes toward Theo, who pauses in the middle of taking a bite.
“You don’t have a scent.” I let the thought fall out of my mouth without considering how weird it is to say that.
I wonder if it might be just another lovely side-effect of pregnancy—the inability to sense pheromones was one of the less-common symptoms in the endless list—but then I remember I definitely smelled Ellie’s, the omega’s from the office, cinnamon pheromones this morning when we were together in the elevator.
Theo blinks sharply and rests his fork against the food container. “Well… I’m,um,in my rut period, so I’ve been using suppressants to not have to worry about it. Makes things easier,” he mumbles, his tone becoming a touch more tense with each word.
I know it shouldn’t, but the thought of Theo in rut sends shivers down my spine.
With a gulp, I avert my gaze to stare at the food. “Oh. You don’t…you don’t have to do that for me,” I say. Why is my voice trembling?Stop. Don’t.“I’ve gotten a little better at dealing with alphas’ pheromones.”
Most of the time, anyway. And in public places.
“It’s no big deal, really. They make me a little lightheaded, but nothing too bad. I’ve only taken them for a few days. Besides, I don’t mind, like…like I said, it’s easier this way, for everybody.”
The heavy sensation looming over me won’t go away. I recognize it as the irrational dread that blooms inside me before the panic takes over, but for some reason, I’m unable to take hold of it and push it down.
He’s doing this for me, I know, and he means well, and yet my brain struggles and races to find a way to connect this to that experience it still can’t comprehend the cruelty of. It darts through ridiculous ideas until it finds the one that makes my heart stop and all the little hairs on my body stand on end.
Is it ‘easier this way’ because he worries about how he would feel if he let himself be in that state around me?
Paralyzed by that notion, I look at him. I study his face, that handsome, sweet face, those big blue eyes staring at me with worry, and those parted lips I kissed, as if the rational partof me is trying to remind me who he is, but in that moment, the rational side loses. I see onlywhathe is: an alpha.
“Sam? It-it’s okay, just—” He tries to reach for me, voice smooth and soothing, but I jerk away, shifting away on the bench.
