Page 129 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“What do you think, Ro? Does this look like a good room to do some learning in?” I asked.
His face lit up. “Yeah! Look, Mom, they have a fish tank.” He pointed excitedly at the bubbling aquarium in the corner. “And beanbag chairs.”
Mrs. Thompson chuckled. “We do our best to make school feel like a second home. Roland, I think you’re really going to enjoy being part of our second-grade class.”
Roland grew more eager with each new room we visited—the gym, art studio, music room, and library. After such a traumaticdisruption to his life, I was happy to see him excited about something so wonderfully ordinary as starting school.
While a part of me still held my breath, terrified that George would find a way to upend our lives again, I refused to let that fear determine Roland’s future. He needed a supportive environment to learn, grow, and heal. I would do whatever it took to protect his chance at a happy, healthy childhood, but I had to find a way to manage his expectations.
As we walked out to the parking lot, I touched Roland’s shoulder gently. “Hey buddy, can we chat for a sec?”
He looked up at me curiously. “Sure, Mom, what’s up?”
I crouched down to his level and gripped his hands. “Ro, I know you’re super excited about starting school here. And I’m so happy you’re looking forward to it. But I need you to remember something, okay?”
He listened intently.
“Sometimes, even when we really want something to happen, things don’t always work out the way we plan. I want you to enjoy every minute of second grade. Learn tons, make friends, have fun. But if your father...” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “If he does something that means we need to move again to stay safe, I need you to be prepared for that, all right? It doesn’t mean school won’t happen; it just might look a little different than we thought.”
Roland frowned as he processed my words. “Do you think we’ll have to move again because of Dad?”
“I hope not, baby. I really do. And I promise I’m doing everything possible so we can stay. But I never want to make a promise I’m not sure I can keep. So for now, let’s focus on enjoying today and taking things one step at a time. Sound good?”
He squeezed my hands. “Okay. I get it. Hope for the best, expect the worst, right?”
A wry smile tugged at my lips, even as my heart ached at the unfairness of burdening an eight-year-old with such weighty concepts. “You got it, kiddo. Hope for the best, expect the worst. Now, what do you say we head home so you can get some solid playtime in before dinner?”
“Yes!” he cheered. “Can we get pizza tonight? Pretty please?”
Laughing, I straightened up and ruffled his hair. “I think that can be arranged. Race you to the car!”
Roland took off like a shot. I followed close behind, determined to soak up the carefree moments as they came, George’s menacing shadow be damned. One way or another, I would give my son the life he deserved.
Half an hour later, I settled at the kitchen table, laptop open and ready, as Ro’s laughter echoed from the backyard. I logged into my remote programming course, reveling in the normalcy of it all.
It had been ages since I’d flexed my coding muscles for anything beyond a basic internet search. But as my fingers flew across the keys, muscle memory took over, and the thrill of problem-solving came back to me. Line by line, the assignment took shape, variables and functions slotting neatly into place.
The outside world fell away. For a precious hour, the worries about George and uprooting Ro yet again faded into the background. In their place was the sheer joy of creating something from nothing, of mastering a skill that was mine and mine alone.
As I typed the final line of code for the assignment, a glance at the clock jolted me back to reality. If I didn’t hurry, I’d be late for my visit with Noah. Hitting save, I closed the laptop with a satisfied snap.
“Ro,” I called, waiting for the telltale thump of sneakers on grass. “Grandpa Sam will be here any minute. Make sure you’ve got everything you need for your sleepover.”
“I’m on it, Mom!”
Shaking my head, I went to change. Life might be unpredictable, but there were still pockets of contentment. We were getting back on track. I’d code until my fingers bled to get my career up and running to provide Ro with the stability we both craved.
Noah’s warm smile flashed through my thoughts. First, though, I had to see the alpha about my son’s future.
When I was halfway up the stairs, a knock at the door made my blood freeze, but only for a split second. “Hey, Zoey, I’m here for my favorite grandson!” Sam called out.
I hurried to the living room, smoothing my hair as I went. “Sam, you’re early. Come on in.”
Sam stepped inside, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. “Hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t wait to see the little rascal.”
“Not at all. Ro,” I called over my shoulder. “Grandpa Sam is here.”
Ro burst into the room, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Grandpa!” He launched himself at Sam, who caught him in a bear hug.
