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The Alphas don’t follow me.
Despite their unease, they know I need this moment to myself.
I need the privacy that Michael so cruelly took away.
As I sit in the gazebo, allowing myself to relax, I reflect.
The doctor says I’m still in shock, and I’m sure she’s right. But the garden is my place of solace and comfort, and my head clears as I attempt to start the difficult healing process in my soul.
Footsteps interrupt my thoughts, followed by Beau’s earthy scent. He hands me a cup of coffee then sits next to me, still dressed in his sweatshirt and jeans from last night.
But there’s a white box in his hands which he places in his lap as he sits down.
I glance at it as he drums his fingers on the lid. “I have some things I’d like to show you,” he says. “If you’ll let me.”
I nod, interested.
He lifts the lid and smiles at the contents, dimples showing on his cheeks. Then, he hands me the items.
Photographs.
I place my mug down with a shaky hand, my mouth falling open as I gingerly pick up a photo.
It’s me. Teenage me, with longer hair and a rounder face sticking my tongue out at the camera.
Beau and James are next to me, grinning. Beau’s hair is longer and unruly, and James’ is dirty blonde, not yet touched by bleach.
We’re kids.
“That’s from the group home,” Beau says. “You were with us for a few months. That’s when you taught me about plants and gardening.”
“Where did I go?” I whisper, my heart aching.
Did I ever have a family?
“They moved you to a different place, but then you aged out. We found you later.”
I stay silent, and he takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. “You were my best friend growing up. Besides James. We were half in love with you back then, even when we were kids.”
I huff out a laugh. “Even before I presented?”
I wouldn’t have presented as an Omega until after I turned eighteen. Alphas and Omegas don’t go through the hormonal changes until eighteen or older.
“Well, we didn’t know we were going to be Alphas, either,” Beau says, smiling. “At the time, I didn’t care. You were the kindest person I’d ever met.”
My heart aches.
How could I have left them?
There’s another photo underneath, this time of me grinning, leaning over an empty planter bed in the greenhouse.
“That’s right when we started the garden,” Beau says. “Right after we built the Inn.”
“And how on earth did we do that?” I murmur. “I assume we didn’t have much money.”
“Ah.” Beau smiles, his eyes sparkling. “Turns out Grey had a long-lost relative and he found his inheritance late.”
“And he just…wanted to do this?” I ask, gesturing around.
