Assa squared his shoulders. “The last thing I want is to be greedy for more when we already have so much, but I think…”
The last vestiges of sleep left him as Wes’s mind came into full focus. They had only discussed it a few times, and Assa had been so worried he’d fuck it up, but maybe—?
“…I think I want to have kids,” Assa said. “I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready, but I am now. I love you, and I want to raise babies with you.”
Wes’s heart leapt. He had dreamed about this for so long but hadn’t pushed. He would have been fine if Assa never felt ready. That was what he’d told himself. Now he wanted to jump out of his skin with joy.
“Sweetheart, I want to have babies with you, too,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “You are going to be an amazing father.”
Chapter Eight
Assa
Assa sat next to his father’s big chair. Careful not to pull too hard, he propped the old man’s foot on the coffee table.
“I’ve got it,” Papa grumbled.
“I’m trying to help,” Assa said, glaring at his trembling leg. “The nurse said this new sprain was mild, but you need to take it easy.”
“Yeah? Well, I can still lift my foot. I don’t need my sorry excuse for a son coming around here embarrassing me.”
Assa straightened his spine. Despite their vitriol, he no longer cowered under his alpha parent’s harsh words. It was never pleasant, but if he didn’t visit, no one would. Assa’s omega father had passed away years ago, and he had no siblings. Papa didn’t have friends, and he hadn’t endeared himself to the other residents at his assisted living facility.
Wes hated that Assa insisted on coming here. He blamed Papa—not incorrectly—for many of Assa’s insecurities and believed he should have cut off Jeral. One of the few things they arguedover regularly was how much verbal abuse Assa put up with from his father.
Assa understood Wes’s frustration. He could banish Papa from his life, and nobody would blame him for it. Except he’d decided long ago not to do that.
Before his omega father passed away after Assa’s thirteenth birthday, he told him it would be understandable if he wanted to cease contact with his alpha parent once he grew up. Daddy had spent much of Assa’s childhood protecting him from Jeral’s shouting and belittlement. On his deathbed, he apologized for not living long enough to see Assa to adulthood, advising him to be docile and placating to avoid the worst of Papa’s temper until then.
But he also said that if Assa’s big heart wouldn’t allow him to turn his back on Jeral, it didn’t make him weak. It made him kind, and good, and stronger than Papa’s insults. Assa often recalled those words, imbibing how much Daddy loved and admired what others perceived as softness.
Yet even with his forgiving spirit, Assa would always suffer ill effects from spending his early years at the mercy of his father’s moody outbursts.
Papa used to shout at him and call him names, complaining that he was too loud, too messy, or just too much. Assa learned to make himself as small as possible, to never speak unless he was spoken to. As a result, he had trouble finding friends and his peers ridiculed him. His low social status annoyed Papa even more, drawing further insults, perpetuating the cycle.
As an adult, Assa was better at ignoring or firmly rebuking his father whenever he acted like an asshole. But the damage had been done. Although he didn’t tolerate Papa’s venom anymore, a childhood spent doing so had resulted in bouts of self-doubt and, on his worst days, self-loathing.
Thankfully, those darker moments no longer defined his existence. After years of therapy and his loving relationship with Wes, they were fewer and farther between.
The first thing he had done when he arrived at college was take advantage of the campus’s mental health referral service. His therapist helped him identify the lasting trauma from his upbringing—an unrelenting desire to love and be loved, marred by an inability to trust that he was lovable. Their sessions provided a path for him to build his confidence and self-respect. By the time he met his future husband, Assa was still cautious, but ready to accept Wes’s love.
Like Wes, his therapist told Assa that cutting Jeral off was justifiable, but he also supported Assa’s belief that caring for his parent was the right thing to do. Papa’s abuse had never been physical, at least there was that, and he’d paid for Assa’s college, even if that financial support had come with a healthy amount of complaining.
Five years after moving out, Assa saw Papa as someone to be pitied, not feared. He wasn’t a scared teenager anymore. He understood that his father wasn’t going to change or suddenly start approving of him, so he’d stopped seeking that approval.
“Why do you think Jeral’s insults of choice are that you are an embarrassment or a disappointment?” Assa’s therapist once asked him.
“It’s not complicated,” he'd replied. “My parents were never able to have more children and he wanted an alpha son. Their marriage wasn’t happy. Then there’s the fact that Papa hated his job working as a lineman for the power company. His whole life was basically one colossal disappointment, and I was an easy target for all that bitterness. Even though I did fine in school and was a good kid, I was always going to come up short just by virtue of being a beta.”
The therapist—also a beta—commiserated. Society was evolving, but the preference for alpha children still existed in many households, especially when couples had few offspring.
“To be honest,” Assa continued, “it’s almost easier that his dislike isn’t personal. I could be the most accomplished beta in the world, and he would still prefer the dumbest, most loathsome alpha for a son.”
“I’m glad you’ve made peace with it.” The therapist tapped his pen on his lips. “But since you’ve decided to continue having Jeral in your life, we need to find solutions for how that can be done in a healthy way.”
So Assa had learned to set boundaries and to understand his triggers. He developed a better method of communicating with his father and left the room whenever he began hurling insults. While Assa didn’t expect loving words from Papa, he no longer tolerated the harmful ones.
Including today.
