Opening Chapters-Knot For Real
‘I hope you have a great rest of your day.’ I smile through my teeth.
It isn’t technically a lie. It’s just, I’m pretty sure the little omega in front of me will have a fantastic day no matter what I hope for her. At least once a week one of her alphas brings her here to buy to her heart’s content. Mostly it’s books but occasionally something from the gift section or some art. Always a hot chocolate. Today she was with her whole pack. Four great big hulking alphas whose only wish is to see her happy. So, yeah, I assume she’s gonna have a great day.
‘Thanks, Melanie. You always pick the best books.’ She smiles up at me. She’s easy to pick for, she wants romances, fantasy, nothing too scary. Occasionally poetry so that her alphas can read it to her as she falls asleep. Yeah, her day is going to be fine.
‘No worries Steph. Come back again soon.’ That is a sincere wish. Steph and her friends were the majority of my business. The other chunk was made up of people looking for gifts and betas who liked to read. Plus the regular coffee crowd, but the margin for profit on them was not high.
I sigh once she’s left and start making a mocha for myself since the store is in a lull. I designed Second Nature to cater to omegas and so I filled it with everything they loved. Books, new and second-hand, stacks of vinyl in one corner along with band shirts already washed into softness. The drinks came in large thick ceramic mugs. The gifts section up the front was made up of things by local artists or things I found second hand. Sweet trinkets, candles, soft blankets, hand-knitted beanies, and so forth.
Since they usually browse for hours I’d learned to make strong coffee for their alphas while they waited. And my coffee and food was good enough, I had regulars who came just to eat. But this store wasn’t for them. It was for the omegas and it was their joy that kept me going even if some days it felt hard. And today was very hard.
I had half a dozen compliments from omegas like Steph today. They came in with their alphas to pick out ‘just because’ gifts. Every time they said essentially the same thing. ‘This was their favourite store ever.’ And that they didn’t know how I did it, it was so perfectly comforting and practically every item was something they wanted. Their alphas always tip heavily when they say things like that so I try to accept their gratitude gracefully. But some days I just couldn’t.
That’s probably why I was thinking unkindly to sweet little Steph. I was in a mood. And she didn’t make it better when she’d said, ‘I’ve never met a beta with such a great taste.’
I wanted to scream at her.
‘And you still haven’t because I’m a bloody omega.’ But I didn’t. It was better that no one knew and no one guessed.
Thanks to the extra strong suppressants my doctor prescribed me, no one had guessed at my secret in a long time. The store was eight years old now and the last time someone hinted I might be something other than a beta was in my first year so… seven years. It had been seven years since anyone had wondered if I was an omega.
I don’t know why that thought made me so sad but it did.
It was by choice, obviously. No one spent the amount of money I did on scent neutralizers and suppressants by accident. No one put on the restrictive and padded slick-proof underwear for fun. I deliberately hid my status. But it annoyed me nonetheless because I knew the real reason no one guessed was that I didn’t look like your standard omega.
Sure I was short but I was also thick. Omegas were known for the lithe elegant frames and that was not me. I was chunky, to say the least. My thighs were massive, my bum was round, my breasts so large they knocked me up a couple of t-shirt sizes. My arms were soft and squishy. On a good day, I would call myself Rubenesque. On a bad day, like today, I’d probably describe myself as a couple of beach balls strapped together with some legs.
I swivel off the steaming wand as I contemplate my distorted reflection in the shiny metal of the coffee machine.
I was pretty, I didn’t doubt that. I have chubbier cheeks than would be considered in vogue but I have long lashes, crystal blue eyes, and plump naturally rosy lips. And I spent way too much time on my curls. Every morning I reset them, pin them off my face, and use essential oils to make them waft soft lavender or sweet vanilla around me all day. Sometimes cinnamon if I was feeling spicy. I love sweet scents, just like any omega.
But am I even an omega at this point?
That was a mean thought. I stick out my tongue at my reflection in the machine. Of course, I was an omega. I was just built differently. And not just physically.
I was too independent to ever be considered a real omega. I didn’t need anyone to look after me. I did it all by myself.
I scoot onto the stool I keep behind the counter for moments like this to give my feet a break while I sip my drink and relax a little.
Once upon a time, did I think I needed other people? Yes, of course. Even better, once upon a time, I thought I had other people. Other people who would look after me. I’d be a part of their pack, their center. They’d cherish me like I cherished them. But it didn’t work out. And it broke me.
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