Page 60 of The Beast's Heart

“He’s an orphan?”

“Emancipated. Now, in addition to the Alpha, there’s?—”

“Wait. Emancipated?” I don’t recall that from Adam’s Wikipedia page.

“Yeah he divorced his folks soon as he got famous. Now, are we boxing or are we gossiping?”

“Sorry. Please go on,” I say, but I’m only half listening as Geoff continues. Emancipated. Maybe he does know something of what these children have been though after all.Oh Adam.

“Are you listening, Teach?” Geoff pulls my attention back to the mirror. “Betas arenice, they go through life afraid of everyone’s opinion, they’re passive followers. And that’s all you’ll ever be if you continue down this path.”

“You make it sound so… dire.”

Geoff takes me by the shoulders and turns me around to face him. “Being cringe and unconfident are just bad habits, which can be changed with enough will power and guidance.”

I blink. “You think I’m cringe?”

He takes my tie between thumb and forefinger and quirks his eyebrow again.

Right. “Point taken.”

A few blissful weeks pass as spring breaks over the Highlands.

The children, once so intimidated by Adam, start drawing him into their conversations around the breakfast and dinner tables.

On one sunny day, he even takes them to the greenhouse for a class on botany. Enrique points at each plant in turn, a silent demand for Adam to name them (which is adorable), but it’s Alisha who’s most enchanted by his work. And, after we’re done, he offers to teach her whatever she wants to know. They start to have regular lessons in the greenhouse and she blossoms under his tutelage in a way she never quite did under mine.

I implement a new nighttime routine of cocoa and stories in Enrique’s room. And, as a result, Enrique ends up falling asleep in his own bed more often than not, and even stays there for the whole night on more than a few occasions.

I check in regularly with Zane and hear that my dad is doing well, and that I’m not missing much in Surrey. The outside world seems to be on pause with everyone baking sourdough bread and watching reality TV.

Even my weekly boxing lessons with Geoff aren’t bad. It helps that I find his bro speak so amusing.

The only stain on it all is how happy I am. What a bizarre thing it is, to find self-actualization and be miserable because of it. A tiny voice that sounds suspiciously like Zane tells me I can’t actually be self-actualized without having Adam in my bed. But no, that’s not it. Robert Frost said it best: nothing gold can stay. And the more wonderful it all is, the more there is to lose.

Ben feels it too. Of course he does, he’s the most sensitive of us all. One night, as I’m tucking him into bed, he asks, “Do you think that there’s a chance we can stay here, like this?”

I tuck away my own emotions and shake my head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Doesn’t Adam like us?”

“He likes you very much, but it’s not about that.”

“Then why can’t we stay?”

I’m unprepared to answer. I brush back his silky hair from his forehead. “It’s complicated.”

His big blue eyes fill with tears. “After this, will I ever see you again?”

I press my lips together, fighting back my own emotions. “Don’t think about the future, Ben. Try to enjoy every moment so you have wonderful memories to look back on. We don’t know what will happen. Maybe it’s something much better than this.”

“I don’t think it is,” he says solemnly.

After that, I go down to Lloyd’s study and fill my arms with melancholy vinyls. I spend about an hour in my room, with the volume of the record player at its lowest, listening through old favorites, looking for something that will make me feel better.

Eventually, I try the vinyl with the blue cover. The piano featured on the front might be the very one that now sits at the top of the stairs.

Lloyd’s concerto begins with a series of low notes, punched with emotion. A scale of higher notes follows, like raindrops. And then, a violin, blowing through the piece like a chilly wind. Goosebumps prickle my skin as I stare out at the darkened landscape, the cold moon and the stars.

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