Page 43 of I Replaced His Husband
I rolled my eyes and gave him a light punch on the arm. "I’m not a masochist. I just think you were right earlier. Under all that bitterness and anger, Kay’s just sad. And lonely."
Adam had that triumphant smirk I hated.
"Yeah. Who he is now… that’s not the real Kay. But more ‘interaction’ with you… I believe it might start to crack his walls a bit."
I pulled a face but didn’t respond.
We both fell quiet, staring at the dark glass beyond the terrace. The silence stretched, but I felt the need to voice something I’d been thinking about, even if the subject was touchy. It had to come up eventually.
"Why isn’t he in therapy? I feel like… he might need it."
Adam frowned. "He refused. We tried, but he was stubborn about it. Kay’s really proud. He doesn’t want some stranger digging through his mind. He doesn’t want to expose himself to someone he doesn’t trust."
"Yeah, but trust isn’t really the point. You’re supposed to be able to trust a therapist professionally. And I just think—" I paused, rubbing my chin. "Actually, maybe I shouldn’t say this. It’s private. But the nesting thing seems like an issue."
Adam flinched, like I’d dropped a spider down his shirt. "No! No, no, no. Marco and I don’t talk about that! We’re betas. It’s not our place. And even you barely have the right to bring it up!"
Right. That was it. The social taboo around nesting. So deeply ingrained in all of us. And so stupidly limiting.
"Adam, come on. That’s childish. He’s your family."
He pressed his palms to his face, looking panicked. "Childish? Are you serious? We can’t intervene. It’d be a grave violation. He’s been through enough, and we can’t—"
I stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Just breathe, okay? You’re freaking out."
A red flush appeared on Adam’s face, showing how stirred he was. Looking at him up close, I noticed a disturbing resemblance to Kay: his eye color was a bit lighter but still similar, and the shape of his lips was alike.
Suddenly, the contact felt strange.
I pulled my hand back fast, shaken by how off it felt to touch someone else like that. Was I already somewhat mated to Kay? After just two days? That kind of instinctive discomfort withphysical closeness was normal for bonded pairs, but Kay and I weren’t even close to that. So why was I reacting like this?
Adam, unaware of the little mental crisis I was having, rubbed his face and sighed. "Sorry. I just can’t talk about it. You wouldn’t get it."
I blinked, pulling myself together. "We should talk about it. It’s for his sake."
He cursed under his breath and went quiet. We both stood there, staring through the glass at the night outside. Then, finally, he gave in.
"Okay. What I can tell you is… Kay’s been with Maurice since he was fifteen. He went through gland maturation at seventeen, already in a stable, loving relationship. He never nestedsuperintensely, just built very simple, modest structures. Some omegas don’t feel the urge to nest robustly when they’re safe and emotionally supported. He might not have developed the deeper, instinctive need back then. Now he’s alone, his system is in shock. His nature is trying to kick in, but his instinct isn’t fully ripened yet. It may take some time."
Something about that didn’t sit right with me. I frowned. "I don’t buy it."
"Whatever." Adam crossed his arms, pouting. "It’s my theory, based on some articles I read and a few suggestions I found… and I think it makes sense."
"There are lots of omegas who dated alphas through their teens. One of my high school friends went through maturation with his alpha boyfriend. They broke up a couple of years later, and he nests just fine. I’ve seen his nests. No issues! That’s not it."
Adam lifted his chin and crossed his arms tighter. "Excuse me, I read a ton about it—"
"You’re a beta. You wouldn’t get it."
"What?! Do you think you understand nesting better than I do?"
I mimicked his pose. "I know I do."
And I gave a grim smirk.
"I doubt that. You alphas have no business in this."
His lip curled with contempt. A lot of betas had this kind of reaction to the alpha-omega bond, laced with a sort of instinctive jealousy and denial. Even dismissiveness. I’d heard the same from my brother, Winter, more than once. Since betas didn’t have Allure scents, didn’t take part in mating dynamics, and couldn’t have children, there always seemed to be this quiet, simmering envy underneath.
