Heath squeezed the half-destroyed rose in his hand. “I lied to him.”
“You didn’t lie, you withheld.”
Heath huffed. “Are you really going to argue semantics as an excuse, old man? You never let me get away with that as a child.”
Simon was silent for a long time then, and Heath thought maybe he was going to stop trying to cajole Heath into action. But alas.
“I remember when Nathan died,” Simon said, twisting his hands together in his lap. “After all you’d been through with him, you still grieved him hard.
I remember more than one night when you lamented that he had never fully trusted you.”
“He didn’t.”
“Oh, but he did,” Simon corrected. “He trusted that you’d always be there for him, no matter what he did, and you were.” He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. “He used you that way, of course, but, Heath, he trusted you completely. He simply wasn’t trustworthy himself, as evidenced by his broken promises and inability to be honest with you. You’re the one who never trusted enough.”
Heath snorted. “Excuse me?”
“You never trusted in Nathan’s love.”
“How could I when he ran around doing whatever he wanted and—”
“Because he always came home to you. Don’t get me wrong. Nathan wasn’t a good omega for you, but not because he didn’t trust you or love you, but because he put you on your knees. He was the one in command. He didn’t love you the way you need to be loved—adoringly, unquestioningly, and submissively. The way Adrien does.”
Heath ground his teeth, not wanting to hear another word, but pinned in place by the truth. “Did.”
Simon ignored his interjection and went on. “You were so afraid that Adrien would be like Nathan that you didn’t trust him either. And in his way, he was like his omega parent. From the start, Adrien put his trust in you, like Nathan did. He grew to love you, like Nathan did. But unlike his omega parent, he’d have committed to you, Heath.”
“I know what I’ve lost.”
“You’re so self-righteous at times, playing the martyr. Oh, brave, honorable Heath, all the other peers say. Helping his horrible brother, supporting his bratty nephew, and putting up with such an unloyal lover.”
Simon tutted again. “But you’re just as much to blame as Lidell, Ned, and Nathan. You take on the savior role like you don’t trust that your brother or nephew can handle themselves. You endured Nathan’s behavior like you didn’t trust in the flow of life to provide you with love. Even now you doubt it, though life has given you love. Twice.” Simon spoke firmly. “You always say that Nathan had trust issues, but you’re the one with trust issues, Heath.”
Heath stared at the man who’d raised him, who’d seen him through it all, good and bad. “What do I do? How do I fix myself? And this?”
“Adrien needs a strong hand.”
“Yes.”
“In that very important way, he isn’t like Nathan. Think of his life, lovey: under his father’s command, then under his professor’s command at university. He says he wants to be a professor himself, but a research professor, a quiet man digging into his particular passions behind the scenes.
Adrien complied without question with the matcher at the university. That information was on his auction page. Yes, I looked. Can you ever imagine Nathan doing that?”
Simon crossed the gazebo and sat down on the bench next to Heath, putting his wrinkled hand on Heath’s knee. “Adrien’s good for you in all the ways Nathan never was, because he doesn’t put you on your knees. He lets you stand tall and be an alpha. His style of submissive love allows you to feel precious and honored. Those are feelings Nathan never gave you. Every alpha has a weakness, and every omega should know what it is before marrying or making a lifelong commitment. Lack of trust is yours. Adrien knows that now.”
“I wish I knew how to shut down my damned heart.”
“No, that heart is your greatest gift.” Simon squeezed his knee and spoke with great gentleness. “Heath, lovey, he’s worth the risk. Adrien isn’t running from you because he doesn’t care for you, or because he has such a great need for freedom. He’s running from you because he didn’t know how to stay. Go get him.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
“You do.” Simon stood up and stretched. “In your heart, you do. I’m going home to Earl. I’m sure it’ll be another night of tales about poor slighted Ned’s pity party orgies he’s been throwing for the last few days. You Clearwater men, always making things so dramatic.”
“I don’t know where he’s gone,” Heath repeated, forlorn, tossing the petals of the destroyed rose to the ground with the others. “You act like I know him, but I don’t. We were together for four months and I don’t know him at all.”
“You’re being absurd. I’ve watched you give him what he needed instinctively the entire time he was here.”
“That was sex and hormones, and alpha instincts in reaction to his heat and pregnancy.”
Simon put his hands in his pockets. “You know he takes joy in the small things in life: his robe, the tunnel, the garden. He craves comfort, and not just because of the pregnancy. Think of what he said about growing up on the farm: constricted, yes, but he loved the familiarity of it. Think of what he’s always studied: fabric, traditional weaving. The comforts of the artistic world.”
Heath closed his eyes, imagined Adrien leaving the house, alone and scared with Michael. “He went back to school.”
“Of course he did.” Simon smiled, his chin wobbling. “You ridiculous fool. Go get him.”
With that, Simon walked down the garden path back toward the nest, leaving Heath staring at the litter of petals on the ground, his mind already trying to piece together the right words to say.
“I’M JUST LIKE my omega parent,” Adrien said miserably, staring at the pint of
hard cider in his hand and wondering if it would be safe to chestfeed Michael if he drank it. He sat at the desk in his dorm room, while Lance sprawled on Adrien’s unmade bed.
Lance nudged his fingers. “Drink up. It’ll do you some good.”
“I don’t think I should. Michael…” Adrien straightened his glasses and then gazed at his son, sleeping in a makeshift baby bed made from a cardboard box with a blanket in it on the floor of his dorm room. Heath would be appalled. And maybe he should be.
Adrien gave the pint to Lance. “You drink it.”
“Your loss, friend.” Lance swallowed down the rest of his own pint and then started on Adrien’s. “I’d say you look good except you look fucking miserable.”
“I am.”
“Good God, why are you here? You should be with your man. Once this little guy is a bit bigger, that’s when you come back, for like, day classes, and you take a few extra years to finish up your work.”
“I used to care a lot more about my career. I did all this so I could have the funds for the government to agree to name me a professor.”