Chapter Text
The scent of jasmine hit him before the hangover.
A cheap, floral and cloying perfume that already stirred his stomach before he even opened his eyes; the rough touch of unknown sheets wrapping around his body made his heart suffer from an uncomfortable overturning.
The hangover clouded his eyesight just for a second, which was enough to make him react and confirm what he already knew: he was not at home.
“Oh no…” He thought fearfully.
He breathed carefully, immediately recognizing that the jasmine stinging his nose was nothing more than a pathetic substitute of the natural scent of an Omega. And then the images came, embarrassing and too sharp despite his pathetic attempts from last night to drown his thoughts in alcohol... Glasses of red wine, homemade dinner, the soft laughter of a beta whose name he did not remember, but whose body he still felt vividly beneath his own, mixed with certain obscene sounds that were now unpleasant to him. Not because the sex would have been bad, nor because the company would have displeased him, in reality, quite the opposite: it had been good, durable enough for both of them, efficient enough to soothe his heat and elevate his and his alpha's ego.
Casual to disengage from another romantic commitment.
The farce of an "innocent date" transformed into an unbridled night that the following week he would forget, and later he would repeat with another person completely different from this one.
"STOP SLEEPING WITH MY FRIENDS' MOMS"
The phrase resounded in his head with his older son's voice full of annoyance, with the tired tone that no fourteen-year-old should have to use with his own father. And like the unscrupulous moron he was, he had done the exact opposite of what Cain begged him day after day not to do again. Sleeping with another mom of one of his friends; the number... six... eight?
Bah, who the hell he wanted to fool, it amounted to much more than just six, which made him more of a son of a bitch than he already was.
"Fuck." He muttered as he turned his head to confirm what he feared so much, a lump under the sheets with his back to it, the brush of disheveled brown hair, and the weight of that foreign body on his arm. He needed to disappear before the beta woke up, before everything became uncomfortable because they both knew from the first instant that the desire burned with intensity, but the interest was going to disappear as soon as they got what they wanted from the other.
He vaguely remembered that it was the mother of Cain's new friend, the one he met in the botany club... or had it been in the extracurricular math classes? It really didn't matter at those heights, the routine had been the same since his son became more social: he met them at some parent meeting thanks to Cain, they flirted a little, had dinner at her house, had sex, and repeated a couple of times before he ended it all with a lousy excuse. Sometimes they were on good terms. Sometimes it didn't turn out well at all, and he suffered the consequences of his idiotic actions.
Like that time with… Veronica, who threw a vase at his head when he told her he was “not ready for something serious.” Or Esther's, who made her life impossible at every parent association meeting for three whole months. Or Anthony, who directly forbade his daughter to get back together with Cain, in addition to spreading the rumors about his big problem with the commitment to the whole neighborhood, and his poor son had to endure the mockery.
But that was a problem from past Cain. The present Cain had already learned to anticipate his “movements.” That's why every time he met someone new he demanded that he not even think about his mother; he always nodded, looked regretful, swore by Eva's memory that this time he wouldn't screw up...
And then he fucked it up anyway.
Without exception.
Because Adam Brightman was an alpha with the fucking libido as high as the sky and the self-control through the floors, because the void that Eva had left him when he left was not filled with casual nights, but at least he numbed the pain, and forgot his responsibilities for a couple of minutes.
And because, deep down, he was a fucking coward.
But that last thing was a thought that was only allowed on disastrous mornings like this, when the silence of others reminded him of everything he did not have, and he secretly longed to experience again. Adam carefully slid his arm under the beta's head –was her name Felicia? or was it Flora?– and held his breath as she stirred to settle. The sheets slipped enough to expose a rounded shoulder next to the curve of a hip that he had held in possession hours earlier, but watched with some revulsion.
Pretty, yes. But without any meaning.
Adam waited for five beats of his heart, then another five, and when the deep snort of the beta confirmed that she was still asleep, he quietly climbed out of bed; he searched the whole room for his pants, which lay in a corner next to the half-closed door, followed by his shirt that had ended up hanging from the knob, then his shoes, one pulled a few meters from the bed, and the other in the entrance. He dressed quickly, leaning against the walls so he would not trip while putting on his socks –which he miraculously found centimeters from the bed– and his shoes. He looked at the woman one last time, the sheets partially hiding her face, so it was impossible to recognize who she was.
"I'm an asshole." And it was not a lie. He could wake up the beta, say good morning, and say goodbye like a normal person after a passionate night.
But no, instead, he was running pathetically. He left the room without looking back, came down the stairs two by two, looking for the front door to leave once and for all before something happened that he might regret, or receive his due again.
He stopped when he collided with a ledge, in it there was a prominent photo of a child with dark hair and a dimpled smile, he assumed that it was the son of the beta, next to a face that he recognized with a twist of guilt in his stomach. Cain also appeared in the photograph in his science club uniform, surrounded by three other boys, and each of them proudly wore bronze medals; his son's first major competition, Adam had completely forgotten that day he had promised to take him to celebrate, but ended up canceling because he met an omega during the exhibition and...
"Damn it." He whispered to himself, running a hand over his face.
He palpated the pockets of his pants, looking for his cell phone, as it vibrated from a series of messages. He did not dare to open any, he already knew in advance who it was, he simply took his coat from the coat rack, and left without making a sound, carefully closing the plate behind him; the morning sun hit him squarely in the eyes and he cursed loudly as he walked to his car, parked on the sidewalk of a residential street that he did not fully recognize. He took the keys out of his sack, and got inside, the dashboard navigator took a few seconds to locate it: "Neighborhood The Gardens", just at fifteen minutes from his house.
"Shit, shit, shit." Without further ado he drove back to his house, the whole journey was torture due to the morning sun, accompanied by a blur of red traffic lights, cobblestone streets and the stupid bar he frequented to meet more Omegas... Or well, any of the three castes.
He had a problem. He was aware of it, but he didn't bother to get better.
When he finally arrived at his home, the only thing that received him was a sepulchral silence, so much so that he was afraid; Cain used to wait for him in the room with his arms crossed, with a prepared sermon, and at his side, his youngest son, only six years old, who replicated the gestures of his older brother despite not understanding how serious the situation was.
But not today...
Adam left the keys in the entrance tray and walked down the hall to his son's room, the door ajar, the bed perfectly laid out, but the school backpack was not in its usual place, next to the desk. His heart sank into his chest when he saw the paper taped to the computer screen, he tore it hard, feeling the pang of guilt, and terror.
"I went to the Gauthier's house, Abel is with me. You forgot again that you were going to drive me there. Come at 10, and DON'T EMBARRASS ME."
In the end a small postscript, but the letter was not from Cain, but from his youngest son.
"Daddy Cain is angri wit you and so me"
The note trembled between his fingers, Abel's words written in that awkward spelling and big handwriting hurting him more than any sermon from Cain.
His youngest son didn't even know why he was angry, but he was because his brother was.
Because Adam had failed them again.
"Fuck" He folded the note carefully, keeping it in the back pocket of his pants.
Perhaps to remember that when the heat of another's body clouded his judgment, his children existed, who needed him, that Cain was fourteen years old and had already developed ulcers from the stress he caused him, and that little Abel did not deserve to live disappointments at such a young age.
His cellphone vibrated again, he took it out to finally check those messages that he knew were from Cain.
Son 🎸
Where are you?
9:32 PM
Abel is asking for you
9:34 PM
You know I don't even want to know. I'll tell him you're working
9:38 PM
I already put him to bed.
10:09 PM
If you're not going to arrive now at less arrive early tomorrow cause theres nothing for breakfast
10:10 PM
The least I expect is that you don't end up with that omega like with Mrs. Sinclair, the one that almost broke your head.
10:29 PM
Seriously, all I'm asking is that you get home by at least 10 o'clock, you have to take me to Gauthier's house
10:30 PM
I've been telling you since the last week and I reminded you this morning I have to be there at 11.
10:32 PM
Adam checked the time stupidly: 11:29 AM.
"God, I'm really an asshole." He swallowed, continued checking the other messages.
Dad are you coming or not?
9:00 AM
I gave my breakfast to Abel since you don't deign to show up.
9:39 AM
You can leave me without food, but Abel only has 6 years old.
9:40 AM
I guess you're going to arriave after after 12 o'clock. Aunt Lilith will drive me, and also Abel.
10:35 AM
He stared at the cellphone screen until it turned off due to inactivity. The reflection of his own face –tired eyes with visible dark circles, the beard he hadn't shaved in weeks, and the soft wrinkles on his cheekbones– stared back at him with contempt.
He wasn't an alpha. He was a stupid teenager stuffed into the body of a forty-three-year-old man, with two children dependent on him and an ex-wife who had decided that family life was “choking” her.
Eve had left on a Tuesday morning, when Cain was eight years old and Abel was barely two months old. Adam remembered perfectly the note he left on the kitchen table, next to the keys to the house and his wedding ring: "Adam, I'm so sorry, but I can't take it anymore. I'm not happy, and neither will you be happy with me. Please take care of them.”
And he really had, as much as it had been nearly impossible at first.
He fed them –even if it was cereal with milk when he didn't have time to cook–, he took them to the doctor –even if he was late for work–, he paid for school –even if he had to borrow from his sister from time to time–.
But he had stopped trying since Cain was twelve, and began to show the first signs of his caste, alpha.
Just like him.
He sighed as he put his phone in his pocket. He needed a shower, he needed coffee, he needed to wipe the scent of cheap jasmine from his skin; he climbed the stairs slowly, exhausted, undressed halfway, but when the hot water hit his back with enough pressure to numb the muscles he was able to relax, and forget about the shitty person he was, for a few moments.
After a long shower, he came out wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping, and headed to his room to get dressed. Nothing that screamed “alpha for attention,” just a normal parent picking up their kids from a party.
At 10 o'clock he had to be at the Gauthier house. He knew nothing about them, only that Cain had mentioned alpha twins of his own age, and that they had quickly became friends because they were the only ones in the room who already had their caste defined.
Adam had not met any Gauthier in person, and the truth is that he cared little, as long as Cain was happy and did not get into trouble, he could continue with his filthy life without anyone judging him... Well, just his poor son.
The rest of the day he cleaned the kitchen, went shopping for the week, ate, completely ignored the messages of the beta and those of other omegas with whom he had dated. At 6 PM he prepared a decent dinner for when he returned with his children; at 8:30 PM, Cain sent him the location, without any other message, the clear sign of his disappointment.
The drive was half an hour, so I still had to wait another hour. But he didn't want to be late again, especially he didn't want Cain to look at him with that disappointment that outweighed any insult.
If he arrived earlier than agreed, I would just wait in the car until it was 10 PM... He left the house at exactly 9 o'clock, the GPS guided him to a different residential area than the one he had visited that morning; the houses were larger, with better maintained gardens, elegant lampposts that illuminated the cobbled streets, and the crystal clear water of the pools illuminated under the blanket of the night.
Adam hissed as he parked in front of the number Cain had texted him: a large two-story Victorian-style house, with a small but well-ordered porch, the windows showing warm lights inside, and of course, a beautiful well-kept garden with exquisite flowers.
"Holy shit son, what kind of friends you're making." Before going down, he checked the time: 9:40 PM.
Well, he would wait fifteen minutes to prepare mentally, I knew that these rich neighborhoods were owned by traditional alpha-omega marriages, with more than two children, boring as fuck, and I definitely didn't feel like socializing with that kind of people after the fucked up day he had.
"I just say hello and take my children..."