Page 49 of Glitterati Omega

Dr. Arendse and the nurse exchanged looks. “We’re going to discharge you tomorrow morning,” Dr. Arendse said. “You have a small incision from the laparoscopic imaging tool, but that’s it. Melissa here will give you some home care instructions for keeping it clean until the stitches come out, probably in about a week.”

“All right,” he said, feeling dizzy. He looked at her again. “You’resureI’m—”

“Yes.”

He pursed his lips. “All right.” He settled his hands over himself. When had that happened?

Well. He supposed he knew the answer to that. His gut twisted at the memory of Winston’s words last night. Oh, heavens, what was he going to say?

Maybe nothing at all, he thought, glancing down. Yes, that was probably best, actually. Nothing to get too worked up over—this would probably end exactly as it had the last four times.

And that would probably be a good thing, he thought, given that Winston seemed to have no interest in anything to do with pregnant omegas or the children that followed.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t do it on his own, that much was true. But he didn’t want to subject any child of his to … to beingunwanted. In any sense of the word. He wasn’t unwanted in the sense that his parents considered him an accident, but his father hadn’t wanted anomegachild as his heir, and he’d never wanted anything to do with Rupert as a result. Rupert would have much rather had the man’s love than his money. Money couldn’t change the fact that the houses and the cars he bought would beempty, echoing, which was much like how he felt most of the time.

He didn’t doubt his mother had loved him, but that hadn’t beenenoughfor her, somehow. Nobody had been able to absolve him of that guilt—he wasn’t enough. She’d wanted another baby, wanted to please his father, and when she couldn’t do that, that was the end of it. Nothing Rupert could give her would ever suffice—not even his whole heart, all his adoration.

It still hurt after twenty years, and it had neverstoppedhurting, so he’d never, ever, ever wish that on another person, never mind his own child. If he had to parent alone, then he didn’t want to know the other parent at all.

He slept fitfully after Dr. Arendse and the nurse left him. He woke up briefly for dinner, and then they released him in the morning.

Moose gave him a funny look—he supposed itwasfunny, when they’d all been briefed that he’d probably be in the hospital for up to a week, and here he was, the day after, walking under his own power, no aids or mobility devices at all.

“They couldn’t perform the procedure,” he informed Moose, feeling the silent question.

“Ah” was all he cared to say.

Charli rushed out to see him when they arrived at the house, wiping her hands on her apron as she ran toward the car. “What on earth happened!” she cried as she yanked open the door.

“Nothing,” he told her, because that was the truth. Nothing had happened.

“Nothing?” She trotted alongside him, giving him what was probably the most skeptical look ever. “Nothing.”

“That’s right.” He paused by the door, turning to face her. She scowled at him, her eyes searching his, probably trying to find the lie.

“You were supposed to be in the hospital for a few days,” she said finally, putting her hands on her hips.

“Is that a problem?”

She shook her head. “No! Just …” Her frown deepened.

“They couldn’t do the procedure,” he said. She stared at the ground for a minute.

“What?” she asked finally, and he nodded when she lifted her gaze.

It was just then that a cab pulled up to the drive; both of them turned to watch as Winston stepped out of the vehicle, a large, triangular paper bundle in his arms. He turned about and paid the driver.

The alpha seemed startled when he turned back around. “You’re home,” he said, although the words were almost drowned out by the cab peeling off down the drive.

“Yes,” Rupert said, wondering why everyone made that sound like a bad thing.

The alpha glanced around, trying to hide the paper behind his back. “I thought you might be longer.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Rupert huffed, then stalked into the house. He only made it a few steps before he had to stop, wincing and clutching at his abdomen. He’d forgotten that they had indeed made an incision, and it hurt. A lot.

“Are you all right?” Charli asked him as she took his hand off the wall and tried to help him stand up straight.

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured.