Page 31 of The Knotheads Next Door
We finish lunch, the conversation drifting to lighter topics— how much the older residents in town are worried about whothe owners of the lake resort sold to, festival preparations, town gossip, a friendly debate about whether the new shipment of books at Avianna's store should be displayed alphabetically or by genre.
As we're packing up to return to work, Billie pulls me aside, her expression serious.
"I know we were just teasing earlier, but I want you to know—if you're worried about what's happening with your body, I can go with you to see Dr. Martinez. She's an omega specialist in the next town over. Very professional."
I shake my head. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine. Really."
"Well, the offer stands." She surprises me with a tight hug, her beta scent wrapping around me like a security blanket.
"We're here for you, Rowan. All of us."
I hug her back, overcome with gratitude for these women who have welcomed me so completely into their lives. A few weeks ago, I was alone, my world falling apart. Now I have friends, a job, even a kitten. Maybe things are finally looking up.
"Thank you," I whisper. "I don't know what I would have done without all of you."
"Probably died of boredom," Lala says cheerfully, joining our hug and dragging Avianna in too. "Or been annoyed to death by the town."
"Lala!" Avianna scolds, but she's laughing too.
We part ways, promising to meet up again soon to work on festival decorations. As I walk back to the flower shop, I feel lighter than I have in days, despite the lingering uncertainty about my body's changes.
That evening, Theo insists on a group dinner to "celebrate Gerald's recovery." It's the first time all four of us have sat down together since my heat spike episode, and the tension is palpable beneath the casual conversation.
Jasper barely speaks, his shoulders rigid, his eyes darting to me and away whenever I move. Wells is overly polite, passing dishes with careful precision to avoid our fingers touching. Only Theo seems determined to act normal, keeping up a stream of chatter about his day at the clinic, the festival preparations, Gerald's latest developments.
"He tried to climb my pant leg today," Theo says, gesturing with his fork. "Barely bigger than my hand, but convinced he's a tiger."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Jasper mutters, shooting me a look.
I raise an eyebrow. "Are you calling me small but fierce? I'll take it."
"I meant stubborn and oblivious to reality," he counters.
"Jasper," Theo warns.
"What? We're all dancing around it, but we know what's happening." Jasper sets down his fork with a clatter. "She's presenting. And it's becoming a problem."
The table falls silent. My face burns with embarrassment and anger.
"She'ssitting right here," I say coldly. "And my biology is none of your business."
"It is when it affects all of us," Jasper insists. "When it changes the dynamics of our home."
"Our temporary housing arrangement," I correct. "Which has an end date, remember? Three months. That was the deal."
"A deal we made assuming certain... conditions," Wells interjects carefully. "It might be prudent to discuss contingency plans if those conditions change."
"Nothing is changing," I say, standing up so abruptly my chair screeches against the floor.
"I've been managing my own body for twenty-eight years. I think I can handle another two
months without your help."
I storm upstairs, fury and humiliation burning in my chest. How dare they discuss me like I'm some problem to be solved? Like my body is some inconvenience they need to manage?
In my room, I pace, too agitated to sit still. Gerald watches from his bed, his tiny head following my movements with curious eyes.
"It's not happening," I tell him firmly. "I've gone this long without presenting. I can control it."
