Page 16 of Broken Heat
“Yeah. Like that.” He grinned. “One has cat ears.”
I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him cuddling a cat-faced pillow under his chin after his mate died. It broke my heart.
“Some omegas make nests.”
“Yeah?” He looked up again, fingering the soft material. “I’ve heard of that before. But only when they’re pregnant, right?”
“True.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“No. Of course not.”
“Do you think I’m nesting?”
“I think you might be. But it’s more like a self-soothing impulse. Grief can make us hold ourselves inward, closer to ourselves. Sometimes we turn away from others and bury our sadness in things or tasks or hobbies. Whatever distracts us.”
Elon blinked. “I don’t cry for Coah.”
“Maybe not outwardly.”
Elon looked at the pillows surrounding him. “They’re just—just comfortable.”
“Yes.”
“But maybe like barriers, too? I never thought about it that way. I like the support while I sleep, that’s all.”
“And many people do.”
Elon shrugged. “I will admit I didn’t sleep with so many pillows when he slept with me. That part is true.”
“And now while you’re sitting on the couch, how do you feel?”
“Well, we had a really good morning. And here we are relaxing, and I just wanted to feel them against me. Maybe I was a little nervous. It was a lot of fun, more than I’ve had in a long time.”
“And that made you nervous?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you feel guilty if you have fun and Coah isn’t there to share it?”
“Hmm. Maybe sometimes. But I don’t really do a lot like we did today. I mean, I go to the gym. I do sometimes have meals with friends. I paint a little and write a little.”
“So you spend a lot of time alone.”
He didn’t directly answer. “Coah left me well off. I have a nice place with everything I need. I don’t have to work. It’s great. I can do whatever I want.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do whatever you want?”
“Sometimes.”
Another vague answer. This was not how we’d started out.
I glanced again at the pillows around him. The maybe-nest. This omega was definitely craving a family.
