Page 18 of Broken Heat
He nodded. “I wanted him. I did. I believed in him. And he never let me down. Not really. He got grumpier when he got sick, but that’s nothing. I relied on him and he gave me everything. I felt the way it was between us as perfect. As right. That my heart wanted what his heart wanted, and we were the same. Like twins who’d found each other after a long separation. That’s what a bond feels like, right?”
“I’ve never been bonded.”
Elon’s eyebrows rose and his eyes met mine. “It’s like you don’t want to do anything without the other person. It’s like you need them.”
“Like the mystical part that thousands of books have been written about?”
“Hmm. I don’t know. Coah talked about souls a lot. And that ours were immortal and linked. I believe in that. But then if it’s real, why can’t I feel him inside me now? Why isn’t he there for me? I hear his voice in my thoughts, sometimes, but it’s really a memory of how he might tell me if I’m doing something wrong. They are my thoughts, not him really there. Not really. I understand that he’s gone. But I keep thinking he’s not, that he’s around and watching and I—I feel guilt that I don’t feel it for real, that I can’t see him if he is.” He let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I’m a therapist and a sex surrogate, not a mystic.” I reached for my drink. “But this crisis of conscience you have is a leftover from your former life. An errant current pulling you toward feeling guilt for something you don’t need to worry about. Not anymore.”
Elon was silent.
“I mean no disrespect to Coah, but he’s moved on. You told me he would want you to be happy,” I reminded him. “That he knew you’d be okay.”
“Yes.”
“Well, now you’re doing it. Moving on. And you will be okay with it.”
He clutched at the pillow. It dented where his fingers nearly tore through the material. “But my heats—without them no alpha would want me.”
I want you.
I blinked the inappropriate thought away with a hard jerk of my eyelids. “And this is why you’re here. And why we’re talking now. We’re here to learn, both of us, how to do that safely while we both explore why they vanished in the first place.”
“It couldn’t just be because of the grief, could it?” he asked. “Because I’m over the worst and have been for a long time. If it was grief, then all omegas would lose their heats when a mate died, and I know they don’t because I’ve been told by my doctors that it’s not a fact.”
“My research has told me that omegas losing a mate can go through all sorts of different symptoms. But those things are usually temporary. If an omega loses his heats from emotional trauma it’s usually for a few months. And while everyone dies, it usually doesn’t happen until you’re older. Most people lose their mates when they don’t have heats to worry about anymore.”
“Yeah. That makes sense. Coah was ten years older than me. Thirty-seven. That’s young.”
“Very.”
“But my grief—it’s not the same stress I used to feel. I realized I believed I needed Coah possibly a lot more than I really did. What I mean is, I relied on him for everything. But I’m actually very strong and capable and maybe I didn’t know that before. Or forgot or something. So why, if I’m feeling okay, don’t my heats come back?”
I took a deep breath. “We’re going to find out, okay?”
“Okay.” He had the pillow tightly clutched to his chest. “Can we do it now?”
“We are. This conversation was eye-opening.”
“No. I mean can we do the surrogacy thing now? I want to. I want to do whatever it takes to get me back to myself again. I know I can. I’m strong.”
I saw the smashed pillow in his lap. I watched how his body language drew limbs and muscles inward.
I was the one who determined when we were ready for this next step. But the patient had full say in the matter as well.
“Now?” I echoed. “We’ll see about tonight, maybe—” I began.
“No. Now.” His gaze bore into mine. “Please. I don’t want to wait. I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about it. Everything you’re doing has been wonderful, the beach, the swimming, wonderful meals, but I feel like I’m just waiting for the real reason why I’m here, the moment I can feel a touch again, open up and maybe let go of Coah once and for all. I mean, I’ll never forget him, but I don’t want to feel guilt anymore.”
“No, you don’t need to feel guilty at all, Elon.”
“Then let’s go to bed. Let’s do it. Now.” His jaw firmed.
Before I could get out another word, he got up, spilling pillows across the floor, and disappeared into the bedroom.
7
