Omega Teacher’s Secret

by Anna Wineheart

  “It seems to me you needed a reminder.” Harold lit a cigarette, glancing at his own car. “Ian McMillan will die before you, and his burdens will become yours to bear.”

  Brad flinched, the ache in his chest gaping open again. He didn’t need that reminder. “Shut up. You never loved Mom, did you?”

  “I was married to her.”

  “Marriage doesn’t mean anything if you don’t love her.”

  Harold shrugged. “I’ve done my part in the marriage and the society. I’ve contributed offspring to the world.”

  That sounded like the coldest, most terrible way a person could see life. And yet Brad wasn’t surprised, because it was his dad.

  He looked at the empty lot Ian’s car had sat in. Could almost feel Ian’s warmth in his palm, could still smell the trace of rose in the air. Minutes ago, Ian had moaned against him, and he had been sweet and pliant in Brad’s arms.

  Brad had no idea he should’ve savored that. His heart ached.

  Ian would probably leave this world earlier than Brad. If he’d stayed, Brad would probably witness Ian dying, and it would rip Brad to pieces, all over again.

  Maybe Dad was right. Maybe Brad should’ve distanced himself from Ian, so he didn’t get hurt again. He’d take Gwen in, and that would be that.

  I shouldn’t have started all that with Ian.

  It wasn’t as though Brad had been making the best decisions. He’d fucked up, over and over. He’d stripped Ian in public, and his father had seen. Harold had fired Ian, and there was no replacing what Brad had cost him.

  Brad breathed out. Harold offered him a cigarette, and Brad took it. Didn’t know what else he had going for him now. He would return to the station, keep going out on calls. Brad almost considered asking Harris to move him back into the higher risk jobs, except he now had a daughter he was fully responsible for.

  Brad closed his eyes. What would he say to Gwen? Your dad left us. He’s not coming back. Would Gwen ask to see Ian? She would, wouldn’t she?

  He still felt too raw, remembering the way Ian had shoved him off. Do you want Gwen? Ian had asked.

  Brad lit the cigarette, sucked in its burning smoke. Didn’t feel much different from smoke inhalation on a scene.

  Brad had a daughter to think about, though. Gwen didn’t have Ian to depend on anymore. He dropped the cigarette on the asphalt, stubbing it out with his shoe.

  “I expect to see you do better,” Harold said. “Be someone better in the society. You were going nowhere with that omega.”

  Brad exhaled. Ian had months to leave a bonding mark. I never marked you back, Ian had said.

  Maybe Ian was right. Maybe Brad wasn’t good enough for him.

  Brad trudged back to his car, unlocking it. Climbed into the driver’s seat, smelling a faint whiff of rose in the air. He couldn’t help remembering Ian in the passenger seat, Ian’s hand resting on Brad’s thigh.

  They’d been good together. And now all Brad had for a reminder was Gwen.

  He filled his lungs with the stale air in the car, holding on to the traces of rose. Then, Brad pulled out of the parking lot, his chest empty, his heart with an omega somewhere, far across the town.

  27

  Ian

  Ian glanced over his shoulder furtively, checking the road. Brad hadn’t chased him down. That was a good sign. It meant he had time to pack, and leave.

  He unlocked the door to the house, his chest aching. Couldn’t bear to think about Brad. He wanted to spend longer here, wanted to stay by Brad’s side, watch Gwen and Xavier grow up.

  But Ian had lost his job, he’d been shamed in front of Brad, and all he could contribute to the family now was debt.

  Better he leave, so Brad didn’t feel obliged to bear his burden.

  Ian hurried into the house, turning into the bedroom. Felt his throat close when he saw the bed all rumpled. Brad hadn’t bothered to straighten the sheets before he left. He’d grabbed Ian’s pillows, rolling onto Ian’s side of the bed.

  Ian felt a tendril of fondness, and then the ache of loss. Turned to the closet, pulling out the few clothes he had.

  The only consoling thing about being poor was that it took hardly any time to pack.

  Ian paused when he found the brown kid gloves Brad had given him for Christmas. They had fitted his hands snugly back then, but his hands were swollen from the pregnancy now. The gloves weren’t something he’d need anymore. Ian tucked them under Brad’s clothes.

  Fuck you, Brad had said that night, when he’d found out about Gwen.

  His throat tight, Ian shoved the rest of his things into a duffel bag. Hurried into the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush. Everything else in here was Brad’s. Which just went to show how much of a parasite Ian was, didn’t it?

  Ian stopped by the bedside table. Pulled open the bottom drawer, where Brad had emptied out his things so Ian had space for his own possessions. Ian didn’t have much there, though. Just a book, and the cookie tin Brad had given him.

  They call this a safe box, Brad had said. It’s what you go to when you feel like hurting yourself.

  Ian breathed in shakily. He was tempted to leave the box so Brad could have his things back. And yet, if Brad didn’t have a reminder of Ian... that would make it easier for him to move on, wouldn’t it?

  So Ian tucked the cookie tin into his bag, thinking about Brad’s warm eyes, and his careful touch.

  He choked up then, his heart aching. He needed to burrow into Brad’s chest. Just so Brad would hold him, and everything would be okay.

  Ian left the duffel bag on the floor. Picked up Brad’s pillow and hugged it, breathing in walnut and musk. It smelled good. Comforting. Ian bit his lip, then tucked the pillow under his arm.

  Maybe Brad wouldn’t mind if a pillow was missing.

  Ian stopped by the hallway bathroom on the way out. On a whim, he checked the medicine cabinet. The cardboard box with the scalpel was gone—Ian hadn’t a clue when Brad had thrown it away.

  That was okay. If he scraped together enough money... maybe he’d get a new one.

  He shut the medicine cabinet, and stopped by Gwen’s room. Savored the neatly-made bed, the bookcases, Gwen’s sticker sheets, and all her trucks parked against the wall.

  Ian bit his lip, his heart tight with longing. He would miss Gwen. He wouldn’t be back to see her often, and... it would be best for her, leaving her with Brad. So she could have everything she needed.

  He crouched by her row of trucks, took the smallest one, and tucked it into his bag. Then he shut the door, padded down the hallway, and locked the front door. Left the key in the mailbox.

  Ian wiped the tears off his cheeks, piling his things into the trunk of his car.

  This had been home. For a few months, Ian had been incredibly happy. He hadn’t realized what he’d had until he was leaving it all behind.

  June’s car pulled up into the driveway. Ian’s heart clenched at the sight of his daughter.

  When June parked, Gwen leaped out of the car, ponytails bouncing. “Daddy! June said you’re going somewhere.”

  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yeah, I’ll be gone for a while. You’ll be good with your Papa, all right?”

  “Mm-hm.” Gwen reached up, and Ian pulled her into a tight hug. Closed his eyes, trying not to cry. He’d spent seven years with her. Didn’t know what he would do without his daughter.

  “I’ll write to you, okay?” he said. “And then you can write back to me, too. Papa will teach you how.”

  “Okay.” Gwen kissed his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you too,” he said, his throat closing.

  Ian combed his fingers through Gwen’s hair, breathing in her clean soap scent. She was tiny against him, strong and fragile at the same time. He was proud of her, and he’d probably miss her just as much as he’d miss Brad.

  June closed the car door, stepping over. “You okay? I’ve got your things in a box.”

  When Ian looked up, he fou
nd June still in her lab coat, her eyes sad. “You should be happier about your promotion,” Ian said.

  “Not when it happened this way.” June forced a smile. “That wasn’t fair, Ian. I’m sorry.”

  Ian sighed. “I don’t blame you, you know. You were just doing what Harold asked.”

  June pursed her lips, her eyes wistful. “I wish I could go back and say everything differently.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “That’s the second professor I’ve seen leave. It shouldn’t keep happening.”

  “We shouldn’t keep falling in love.” Ian sighed. “That would really help.”

  “Are you staying in Meadowfall?” June asked.

  Ian hesitated. He hadn’t thought about it yet. “Maybe. I’ll see where I can find something. If I can’t, I’ll try Highton.”

  “When will you be back?” Gwen asked, looking up at him with those doe eyes.

  Ian gulped. “Soon. Maybe in a few months.”

  Gwen pouted. “That’s too long!”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” Ian pulled Gwen close. Thought about bringing her with him, except he couldn’t pay for anything she might need.

  “Try the childcare,” June said. “Dale’s working at the center, too.”

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad there. Ian cracked a smile. “I will. Thanks.”

  He stood, his heart aching when he stepped away from Gwen. “I promise I’ll be back,” Ian told her. “Be a good girl for Papa.”

  Gwen started to sniffle. Ian almost caved. He crouched, wiping her tears away. Then he kissed her cheeks. “You’re brave, Gwen. With some hard work, I think all your wishes will come true.”

  She looked tearfully at him. “Really?”

  “Really.” Ian hugged her again. “I’ll see you soon. The next time we meet, I want your heart to be all good again, all right?”

  Gwen nodded. Ian straightened, and he forced himself to keep walking to his car, to get in before he decided he never wanted to leave.

  This wasn’t his house—it was never meant to be.

  Ian waved at Gwen, his throat growing tight when she waved back.

  Things would work out. Brad would be a great father for her.

  Ian drove off, watching Gwen in his rearview mirror until she disappeared from sight.

  28

  Brad

  The alarm rang, beating upon his eardrums. Brad groaned. He swiped at the alarm clock, then fell back into bed. Thought about snuggling closer to Ian’s warmth.

  He reached over beneath the sheets, searching for his omega.

  Found nothing but cold mattress.

  Brad stirred, disgruntled. Was Ian in the bathroom? He cracked his eyes open, peering into the shadowy room.

  The pillow was as fluffed as it had been the night before, and there was no omega in bed. There hadn’t been, not since two weeks ago.

  Brad sighed, the ache in his chest throbbing anew. He pressed his face against Ian’s pillow.

  Since the day Ian left, most of his rose scent had been fading.

  Brad had come home the first day, sniffing for Ian, hurt at the scent that still lingered. But this was worse—when there was no reminder of Ian at all, when Brad couldn’t even tell that Ian had once lived in this house.

  He rubbed his face, listening to Gwen’s footsteps in the hallway. He had to get up, take her to school. Didn’t want her to be late.

  Brad swung his legs out of bed. Trudged into his bathroom, half-expecting Ian to be there, smiling.

  Stop thinking about him.

  He couldn’t, though. Despite telling himself this was the right choice, despite telling himself he wasn’t good enough for an omega... Brad wanted him back. He hadn’t gone a day without thinking about Ian, wondering where Ian was now. If Ian was doing okay, if he’d gone back to cutting himself again.

  Brad blew out a breath. At least, Ian had taken the cookie tin with him. Maybe he’d use the things in the safe box, maybe he’d start to believe he was a better person.

  Somehow, Brad doubted it.

  He still remembered Ian curled up on the bathroom floor, blood on his arm. Brad had stopped him then. But he hadn’t fixed Ian, had he? Brad had only delayed the inevitable.

  He hadn’t been good enough to help Ian.

  Brad sighed, running his hand through his hair. He washed up, wondering when he’d see Ian again. Wondered what excuse he’d tell Gwen today.

  When he pulled on some clothes and stepped out of the bedroom, he found Gwen in the kitchen, munching on some cereal.

  She looked so much like Ian, with her blond hair and stubby nose, that Brad almost asked, Why’d your dad leave you behind? Because Ian’s scent wasn’t the only evidence he’d been here—Gwen was, too.

  And Gwen was Ian’s most precious person. If Ian had left her behind... what did he still have to keep him going?

  Brad tried not to think about that. Ian would be back to see Gwen. Brad knew it. And when that day arrived... Brad would meet his omega again. He would just... feast his eyes. He didn’t have to touch Ian. Just had to know how he was doing, whether he was eating okay. And the baby. Ian was twenty-three weeks along now.

  If Brad could touch him again... His heart stumbled.

  Gods, how was Brad this excited by the thought of seeing Ian? He was so damn desperate.

  “Papa,” Gwen said, hopping off her stool. She waved a postcard at him. “We got mail! From Daddy.”

  Brad’s heart stopped. “Where?”

  He hurried forward, almost snatching the postcard out of her hand. He made himself slow down. Knelt next to her, closing his hand around hers to hold the postcard steady. Couldn’t believe he was seeing Ian’s looping handwriting.

  Gwen,

  Are you doing all right? I hope you are. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m thinking of you. Remember to stay warm and rest well! I miss you.

  Lots of love,

  Daddy

  Brad read it once, then he read it again. There was no mention of him. Ian had addressed it to Gwen alone, as though Brad didn’t exist.

  What about me? Don’t you miss me?

  Brad swallowed, bitter. He released Gwen’s hand, standing to make himself some coffee. For the past few months, Brad hadn’t taken out the coffee grinder—there wasn’t much point, when neither Ian nor Gwen could have much caffeine.

  Now, Brad pulled out his stale coffee beans, grinding some up. Thought about Ian, the way he’d pressed his face to the coffee bag, sniffing longingly. Brad had rubbed Ian’s belly then, and brought him to a coffee shop just to soak up the aroma.

  “When will Daddy be back?” Gwen asked.

  “I don’t know,” Brad said, his voice rasping.

  “I miss him.”

  “Same here.”

  “Can we write a postcard back?” Gwen turned the card over in her hands. “Daddy said you’d teach me how.”

  Brad’s heart squeezed. “There’s no return address. I don’t know where to send it. Maybe you can text him and ask.”

  Ian still had the same phone number. Brad knew, because Gwen had been texting Ian daily. Brad had texted Ian, too, but there had been no reply. Then he’d left a voicemail, and there hadn’t been any response, either.

  Brad wanted to ask Gwen to pass along a message, ask why Ian wasn’t answering. But that was too great a burden to give their daughter.

  “Did you tell him Papa misses him, too?”

  “Uh-uh.” Gwen pulled out her phone. “Do you want me to tell him that?”

  Brad hesitated. Then, on impulse, he said, “Yes.”

  Because Ian would reply to Gwen, and Brad needed to know if Ian was still thinking about him. His stomach churned.

  Gods, I really am insane.

  They’d broken up. Brad had cost Ian his job, he’d distracted Ian, and Brad’s father had humiliated Ian in public. And Brad had broken his promise, that everything would be okay.

  Things weren’t okay. They were all shattered now, and Brad didn’t h
ave any idea how to fix that.

  He didn’t have time for a second job, caring for Gwen like he was. Didn’t know how Ian planned on caring for Xavier, either—it worried Brad. Would Ian be okay? Did he have enough money for the hospital bills?

  Gwen tapped on her phone. Brad watched as she hit Send.

  Then his stomach wrung tight, and he couldn’t think.

  Brad held his breath. Poured the coffee grounds into the coffee machine, spilling some because his hands were shaking. “Is he answering?”

  Gwen shook her head.

  Maybe Ian would answer Gwen like he’d written the postcard. No acknowledgment of Brad. Nothing that said he still held any love.

  Brad reached into the kitchen cabinet for some plates. His fingers paused at three plates; he had to shift it up, to grab two.

  Felt like every bit of his life had changed to accommodate Ian, and there was now an empty space where Ian used to be.

  Brad set a couple slices of bread in the toaster, pulling open the fridge to grab the carton of eggs.

  “Oh! He replied.”

  Brad almost dropped the eggs. He hurried over to Gwen, peering over her shoulder. “What’d he say?”

  She opened the text message. On the right side of the screen, Gwen had sent, I got your postcard! Papa misses you too.

  On the left, Ian had answered, Me too.

  Brad’s heart pounded. Did that mean... Ian missed him? Did that mean, on the off-chance, that Ian would want Brad back? Could Brad even be good enough for him?

  “Thanks,” Brad said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  He fumbled with his phone. Thought about calling Ian, or leaving a message. That would be too soon, wouldn’t it? Ian would realize the question had come from Brad.

  “Where’s he working now?” Brad asked, his breath hitching.

  Gwen fiddled with her phone. “I dunno. Do I ask him?”

  “Maybe this afternoon. Tell me if he answers, yeah? Don’t say I asked.”

  “I will.”

  She returned to playing games on her phone, and for a moment, Brad was tempted to steal her phone, so he could read Ian’s texts to their daughter. What had Ian said to her? Had he mentioned anything else about Brad?