Page 76 of Saddle and Scent
The words hang in the air like an indictment.
Because they did fail.
They looked, but not hard enough.
They searched, but not long enough.
They gave up, eventually, the way people always do when the thing they're looking for seems too hard to find.
And I let them.
I made sure they couldn't find me.
I changed my name, used my mother's maiden name, moved to cities where no one knew where I came from or who I used to be.
I made myself unfindable because I was seventeen and hurt and convinced that if they really wanted me, they would have fought harder to keep me in the first place.
Because I was seventeen and operating under the assumption that love meant never having to chase, never having to beg, never having to wonder if you were wanted.
Because I was seventeen and didn't understand that sometimes the people you love make mistakes so big they spend the rest of their lives trying to figure out how to fix them.
The doctor's sigh carries the weight of years, of countless conversations like this one, of watching the same patterns play out over and over again with different faces but identical heartbreak.
"I'm not trying to be harsh," she says, and there's something softer in her voice now, less cutting edge and more wearyresignation. "Especially when I don't know the true facts of your particular situation. But you have to understand how tiring it is to witness not just one or two Omegas, but hundreds of Omegas all dealing with this same exact cycle."
Hundreds.
I'm not special in my heartbreak.
I'm not unique in my decade of waiting and wondering and trying to move on from something that shaped me before I was old enough to understand what it meant.
I'm just another statistic in a pattern so common it has its own clinical terminology.
"One misunderstanding when the universe brought you guys together at the perfect moment," the doctor continues, her voice gaining momentum as she leans into what's clearly a familiar lecture. "One screw-up, and now you've spent years wasted, messing around with different individuals. You guys with different Omegas versus her having to try different packs because she thinks she was incompatible with her true match."
The accuracy is devastating.
Because that's exactly what happened.
Years of first dates that felt wrong, relationships that never progressed beyond surface level, connections that left me feeling more alone than if I'd stayed single.Wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn't seem to connect with anyone the way I'd connected with them. Thinking maybe I was broken, maybe I was too damaged by whatever had gone wrong to ever find something real again.
"We hadn't gone with anyone," Wes argues, and there's something defensive and raw in his voice. "At least, not for anything serious. Not for anything that mattered."
The admission hits me harder than it should.
They didn't move on either.
They didn't find their perfect Omega somewhere else or build the life they thought they needed to protect me from.
They just... existed.
In the same liminal space I've been occupying, going through the motions of dating and relationships without ever really investing in any of it.
"Of course you guys didn't," the doctor replies, and I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Because you know in your damn hearts she was the Omega you guys wanted. But enter the land of delulu matched with pride, and what do you get? Alphas. Stupid, cocky Alphas who won't realize their mistake until it's almost too late."
Delusion matched with pride.
The perfect summary of every Alpha I've ever met who thought they knew what was best for everyone around them.
