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Thinking of how Omega makes me feel wanted and desired, I feel I could actually let my guard down and depend on someone to be there for me. But I have only known him for one day. Well, technically one week, if I count meeting him at Rena’s wedding.
Rena swears Omega is a good man with a good heart. She says he has spent most of his time over the past few years focused on getting his doctorate degree. Admittedly, she has never seen him in a committed relationship but makes it clear her eyes have never seen him mistreat a woman. According to her, he operates with class, and I can believe that about him.
I lay on the sofa and turn on Netflix when I should be heading back to his house, but it’s safe to assume that I’m prolonging the inevitable. Is it nerves? Hell yeah, it’s nerves.
There has to be a good movie on that will distract me from my thoughts. While I search the lists of genres, I have to force myself to remember one very important detail; being with Omega is an arrangement
. At times like this, I wish college was in session. At least, then work would distract me.
I turn on the movie Holiday Rush, and in no time, I am laughing at this family who falls on misfortune right before Christmas. The rich kids are adjusting to living under the same roof as their auntie after their father is forced to sell their home to put up the money for his business. He just lost his high-paying job as a radio DJ, and now they have to learn how to live a regular life. It’s hilarious listening to their complaints, which are everyday living issues for most people, but to them, it’s devastating.
“These kids are hilarious!” I say, cuddling with the pink mink blanket on the sofa. It feels good to have a regular moment, not yearning to see Omega. Just when the movie gets to the part I’ve been waiting on—the single dad is about to kiss his production manager—my phone rings. It’s Mom, who’s likely about to undo my good mood.
“Hello,” I answer, still trying to catch some feels from the kiss happening on the TV screen. Shows like this remind me that I have never had a man of my own to look at me like that. The one time I was in a serious relationship, it was serious because my then-boyfriend manipulated me at every turn, and at times resorted to violence to keep me under his control. That experience turned me off from relationships. Seriously dating after that has been a no-go. Mom thinks I should bounce back already, but it’s easier said than done.
“Hey, Astalia, I was just calling to see what you were doing. I haven’t talked to you since last week. Are you okay?” I hear the concern in her voice.
“Yes, I’ve just been a little busy with Christmas parties at work and things like that. It seems every department head wants to throw a Christmas party.” Which is only more occasions I have to show up to watch everyone be with someone they love.
She sounds excited when she asks, “Oh, did the coaches throw a big party this year?”
“Yes, it was last Thursday and even bigger than last year. I think I ate enough spinach dip for everyone there.”
“Stalia, you know better than that. You have to watch your waistline. You’ll never get the man to marry you if you keep eating like that.”
“Mom, you’re riding the fine line of fat-shaming, and Omega isn’t superficial like that,” I slip up with mentioning his name while defending myself. Now, I’m going to regret it big time.
“Omega, so that’s his name?” Let the regrets begin.
“Yes,” I respond only because I have to say something.
My slip up has everything to do with the fact that he has been on my mind so heavily today. I can’t be doing that; I have to keep in the forefront of my mind that ultimately, we are an arrangement—nothing more, nothing less at this point.
“Well, does Omega have a last name?”
“It’s Johnson, but don’t go trying to figure out his family lineage, Mom. Let this happen naturally,” I request, knowing it is no use in trying to reason with her. Now that she has a name, she is about to turn into a private eye. Despite what she thinks, Omega and I are not ready for her prying.
“Oh, hush, Astalia. I’ll talk to you later,” she says, rushing me off the phone. “I have to go shopping for the ingredients for my sweet potato pies.”
Sweet potato pies? Right.
“Goodbye, Mom.” I hang up, already knowing she is about to call up every one of her friends to try to figure out who Omega’s parents, grandparents, uncles and cousins are. I grin and bear it. This is only the beginning of the torture that will happen on Christmas Day when she meets him.
With all the good feels of watching a good movie sucked away with Mom’s call, I get up to go take a shower before heading back to Omega’s. My phone rings when I reach the bathroom. This time, it is Jayne.
“Hello, Jayne.”
“Hey, so you know Aunt Sky just called me, trying to get me to tell her about Omega. How did she find out his name? I thought you weren’t going to tell her his real name.”
“I don’t know. I was talking to her, and it just slipped out.” I don’t mention to her that Omega and I have come deathly close to making love or that mere hours ago, I woke up yelling about how he’s mine. A small part of me wants everything I’ve said to my Mom to be true, but what I fear most is he’s only out to get what he wants, then he’ll be gone. He’s tall, dark-skinned, a professor, but he’s not madly in love with me and ready to give me a wedding ring.
“Well, she’s trying to find out everything about the man, including his pant size,” Jayne brings my attention back to the call. “I guess she’s trying to buy him something for Christmas.”
“If only that was all she was doing. Lord. Mom is too much.”
“And you already know this!”
“How are things going with the accountant guy you met at speed dating?”
