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“They’re basically people who fall at the far end of the spectrum, but for whatever reason never presented as alpha or omega. Their hormones still technically fall within the beta range, but they lean heavily to one side. Now, given the results we have here, I would put you in the range of an unexpressed omega.
“That's not to say that someday you’ll spontaneously present,” Dr. James continued. “It hasn’t happened in any of our research, anyway, but you would be more likely to have stronger reactions than other betas towards alphas and omegas. Obviously, this isn’t definitive, but it is a possibility given how you’ve described past relationships with betas and the immediate change when you got involved with a pack. And I want to be clear that none of this belittles any type of relationship that you form with people. Sexual compatibility has a lot of factors, and hormones are simply one of those factors. From your anecdotal evidence, I would venture a guess that the pack making you feel safe and desired would have just as much, if notmoreimpact than your hormonal predispositions.”
The surge of information left me momentarily stunned, and I simply sat with it, giving my brain some time to process.
“How would I know for sure if I’m one of the unexpressed?” I eventually asked.
“Given that the research is still in its infancy, short of volunteering to participate in the study, I would have no way to confirm for you. At least not right now. The important thing, Nicky, is that there'snothingwrong with you. You would notbelievethe amount of omegas that come through my clinic and betas, through the clinics of my beta colleagues, who feel like their world is completely upturned when they finally get involved with a partner who understands them.”
I fidgeted in my seat. “I guess that's a relief. What about safety?”
“Do you have concerns about your safety with the pack?” Dr. James’ brow furrowed.
“No. I just haven’t had very good judgement in the past, and it's making it a little hard to trust myself right now.”
“In that case, I would suggest that you open up the lines of communication, both with the pack and someone outside of that group that you trust. That could be a friend, a family member, a medical professional, whatever makes you most comfortable. If you feel like you need additional monitoring, that's something I can arrange for you with one of the beta clinics, and, if you’d like to participate in the study, then you would have regular communication with me as well.”
I hummed softly. “I see why my brother likes working with you.”
Dr. James laughed. “He's a good boy. The clinic always runs a little smoother when he's on staff. So, what steps do you think you’d like to pursue?”
“The study does sound interesting. What's all involved?”
“I’ll have the front desk print you out an information packet that goes over all the details, but essentially we would collect your history—including your romantic and sexual history—and you would go through a round of diagnostics so that we have a baseline of information to work with, then you would come in regularly for additional testing and short interviews so that we can monitor any shifts and fluctuations in your body overtime. There's no rush on any of it. I know you have a lot going on, so just take your time and decide what's right for you.”
“I think I’d like to. I should probably mention it to the pack that I’d be participating since they’d come up in the interviews.”
“Yes.” Dr. James nodded. “I’m sure they would appreciate the head’s up. You’re even free to invite others to come interview with me to see if they’d be compatible with the study’s parameters. Your other brother is a beta isn’t he? And you said there’s another beta in the pack?”
“Yeah, Luca’s a beta. Billie, too. I can mention the study to them. Could I asked about one other thing while I’m here?”
“Absolutely. What can I help with?”
“I’m, um, I was wanting to look into a therapist. I have some stuff I need to work through and I was kind of putting it off, but now seems like as good a time as any. I don’t want to be dragging my mountains of baggage into the future, wherever that leads me.”
Dr. James patted my hand. “I know plenty of wonderful options. I’ll have the front desk print off a list of local therapists and their specialties as well as some that are a little further afield, but do phone and video sessions, if you think one of those might suit you better. I’m proud of you, Nicky. It’s not easy to admit when we need help, and I hope you achieve all of your goals with therapy when you find the right match.”
I warmed at the gentle praise. Getting set up to make the leap was so easy I almost regretted not asking my brother for help sooner, but I couldn’t be mad at my past self. Waking up in the light made looking back at the shadows that much more difficult. I hadn’t known how dark it once was until someone flipped that switch.
After I left the appointment, I took myself out for a milkshake, sent a message to Luca and Billie to let them know about the study, and passed along Dr. James’ contact information if they were interested. I messaged Tony, too, thanking him again for being so wonderful today. I was already craving climbing back into his arms, but at least now I wasn’tquiteas worried there was something wrong with me for feeling that way so soon.
I tried my best to focus on other things for the rest of the day. I had to reestablish some kind of schedule for myself, spend some time with Spud, and re-calibrate myself to spending time alone so I could at least pretend at independence.
I streamed a sitcom for most of the evening while I deep cleaned my apartment.
A knock at the door had my shoulders leaping up to my ears, tension radiating through my body. I checked the peep hole first and relaxed instantly when I saw it was only my neighbour.
“Hey Mrs. Poppadakis,” I said as I opened the door. “What's up?”
“I made a bunch of spanakopita for my son and I thought you might like some.”
“That sounds amazing! Thank you.”
“Excellent. Let me grab you a plate.” She disappeared back into her apartment next-door for only a moment, reappearing with a paper plate wrapped in plastic that she thrust into my hands.
Spud came trotting up to the door and yowled at her in greeting.
Mrs. Poppadakis laughed. “Hello there, little man.” She scratched his head, and Spud arched up to accept a long stroke down his back.
