”Can’t believe it’s already 1 AM,” Raph said, his tinny voice dissolving into a yawn. ”Work’s been godawful lately. I’ve been taking on more stuff, a few hours of OT every... every day. Been gettin’ home at... at midnight...”

His voice faded, and there was a dull thump, like the phone had fallen onto the bed. Then came the sound of soft snoring, all the way until the voicemail cut off, and the dial tone sounded.

Wyatt would’ve found this endearing, except Raph had been doing this for a month, now. He’d visit for half a day on the weekend, and then disappear back to Highton, answering none of Wyatt’s calls.

A bad time to be ignoring Wyatt, when Wyatt needed his alpha’s presence. He’d been sniffing at Raph discreetly during his visits, trying to see if Raph had been distracted by other omegas. But all he smelled was old sweat, like Raph had forgotten to shower before he drove down to Meadowfall.

What have you been doing, Raph? Wyatt stared down at his phone, tempted to hit Call on Raph’s voice message. See if he could catch Raph, if Raph happened to be awake right now.

Or maybe Raph had finally realized that Wyatt wasn’t the best omega he could have.

Wyatt gulped, rubbing the scent gland on his neck.

“Are you ready to go to the store?” Hazel poked her head into his bedroom. “We’re completely out of milk. I checked every shelf in the fridge. There’s no evaporated milk, either.”

He sighed. “Do you think Uncle Raph will be here today? He left me a voicemail at 1 AM. That’s late for him.”

“Maybe not. He’s been coming over later and later every week.” Hazel stepped into the bedroom, and Wyatt patted the mattress next to him. Hazel sat, looking down at his round belly. “How’s the baby?”

“Kicking. He might kick if you hold him very carefully,” Wyatt said, pressing his fingers to his belly to demonstrate. “Like that.”

Gingerly, Hazel set her small hand on his abdomen. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You’ve got to be patient, hon.”

She frowned, looking down.

“While you wait, I’ll leave Raph a voicemail,” Wyatt said, pulling her into a hug. Her hair smelled like shampoo. “Then we’ll go to the store.”

“Okay.” Hazel wriggled out of the hug, pressing her ear to Wyatt’s belly.

Wyatt hit the Call button, holding the phone to his ear. The dial tone rang. He held his breath as the tone continued, on and on for long seconds. Then the phone clicked, and the answering machine greeted him.

”I’m sorry, the number you’re calling is currently unavailable. At the tone, please record your message.”

He sagged. Still busy, huh?

“Hey, it’s me,” Wyatt said, stroking Hazel’s hair. “Just wanted to say hi. I haven’t seen you in ages, Raph. I miss you. I think the baby misses you, too.”

“I miss him, too,” Hazel said. “He said he’d make me lunch, but he’s been visiting later and later. You owe me mac and cheese, Uncle Raph!”

Wyatt couldn’t help snorting, then. “Everything is all about the food to you, hon.”

“Not everything,” she said. “Coloring books are important, too.”

“They should be,” Wyatt said. Then he looked back at the phone, smiling to himself. “Anyway, I hope you’re listening to this, Raph. I’ve been trying to catch you awake, but you’re either at work, or asleep. And it sucks. I thought you wanted to spend time with me.”

It always felt weird, talking to a silent line. Wyatt paused, watching as Hazel dragged her finger in a swirling line across his belly.

She perked up suddenly. “I felt the baby kick!”

Wyatt had felt it, too. “Did you really?”

Hazel nodded, wide-eyed. “It was right here. If you put your hand down, you might feel it again.”

Wyatt let her guide his hand onto his belly, smiling. “Tell Uncle Raph he’s missing out.”

“You’re missing out,” Hazel said. “And Dad has been upset that you’re not visiting for longer. He wants to do the sex thing.”

“I did not say that!” Wyatt spluttered, his face burning. “What in the heavens, Hazel?”

She grinned up at him. “Aunt Penny said it when you were out on your date. I asked why I couldn’t be around when Uncle Raph visits. She said you’re probably doing the sex thing.”

Wyatt covered his face, groaning. Penny wasn’t exactly wrong. “Raph, I’m holding you responsible for this,” he said. “Your turn to babysit Hazel the next time.”

“Then who will you do the sex thing with?”

“No one!”

Hazel blinked. “Will you be sad, then?”

How was she even coming up with these questions? “No, I won’t be sad,” Wyatt said. “It’s okay to not want to do the sex thing, too.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway.” Wyatt breathed out, listening to the silent phone. “I’ve got to be going. We’re running out of groceries. If you’re heading down today, give me a call. Miss you.”

He hit the End Call button, and spread his arms. Hazel leaped into his hug, grinning. “Are we going to the store now? Super Cocoa cereal is on sale. Can we get three boxes?”

“Sure. Let me get dressed first, and we’ll head out.” Wyatt rubbed her back fondly. How was it that his daughter was the one scanning the grocery store ads? That was something a parent should do. Hazel had learned how to cook, and compare food at the grocery store, and pick out sale items at good prices, and she wasn’t even ten yet.

Dr. Smith had looked oddly at him, back at the prenatal clinic. What does this say about me as a dad?

Hazel skipped out of the room. Wyatt looked down at his belly, and his empty hands. His phone stayed quiet—no calls from an absent alpha.

It wasn’t as though Wyatt was new to this. He could do things by himself. He’d done it before. He’d just thought... with Raph around, he wouldn’t be quite as lonely.

He pulled himself to his feet, and got dressed.

* * *

They were halfway through the store, the cart a quarter full, when Hazel grabbed his arm. Wyatt fumbled with his box of linguine. “Hazel!”

“We’ve gotta go, Dad,” she hissed, glancing over her shoulder. “Max is here.”

Max? Wyatt’s stomach swooped. “What?”

“Hurry! Don’t look.” Hazel grabbed Wyatt’s hands, setting them on the handle of the shopping cart. Then she stepped between Wyatt’s arms, pushing the cart down the pasta aisle. Wyatt followed awkwardly, trying not to step on her shoes. The boxes of angel hair, soup mixes, and canned tomato blurred.

Panic slithered through Wyatt’s nerves. Max couldn’t be here, could he? He didn’t live in Meadowfall. But he’d dropped by the drive-in the other day. He’d seen Wyatt.

Wyatt remembered the sharp sting of Max’s hand, his cool, sneering eyes.

Why bother to run? Max had asked. You’re too worthless for any other alpha. I’m the only person who tolerates crap like you.

His throat grew tight. He focused on the shine of Hazel’s hair, the lines of blond converging into her red hair tie. Don’t cry in the store. Max isn’t worth your time. Don’t let him get to you.

But what if Max was right, and Wyatt was worthless? Grandma had whispered You’re a sick little child countless times in Wyatt’s ears. Even after two decades, Wyatt still remembered.

Hazel turned them to the left, and glanced down the aisle. She froze. Then she shoved the cart forward, faster than before. “C’mon, Dad. We gotta go.”

From the corner of his eye, Wyatt glimpsed Max’s sandy hair. Maybe Max turned, but he couldn’t be sure. They stepped behind the end cap, the cart trundling across the linoleum floor. Wyatt’s heart pounded. He’s going to find us. He’s going to tell Hazel how much of a failure I am.

Two aisles later, Hazel stopped the cart. Wyatt crashed into her back. “Hon!”

She slipped out from between his arms, creeping to the edge of the end cap. Hazel peered past a shelf of bread. “He’s coming!”

Wyatt’s ears rang. Max couldn’t. He had to get Hazel out of here. But his hands shook, and his palms began to sweat. His heart hammered against his ribs. I need to be stronger. I can’t just break down here.

Hazel turned, grabbed his hands off the cart handle. “We’re going. C’mon, Dad!”

She yanked him back in the direction they’d come from, her grasp insistent. They stumbled past the refrigerated meat section, toward the black supply doors with their little plastic windows.

They barreled through the doors. Wyatt gasped, struggling to breathe. Pallets of cardboard boxes surrounded them. An industrial fan turned high up on a wall. Somewhere behind, Max was coming. He would hurt Wyatt, rip his dignity to shreds. And Hazel...

Wyatt wished he were strong enough to protect his daughter. Except he was so damn scared. His pulse thundered in his ears, and he could barely stand.

Hazel dragged him down a hallway, grabbed a plain door, and yanked it open. Then she pulled Wyatt through, shut the door, and locked it.

“We’re safe here,” she whispered. “It’s the employee bathroom.”

Wyatt sank into a crouch, buried his face in his hands, and shook.

Ten seconds passed, then twenty. Then the door handle rattled, loud in the silence.

Wyatt jumped. His palms sweated. Hazel met his gaze, her eyes wide.

If it was a regular store staff, that was fine. But if it was Max... Wyatt swallowed hard, unfurling shakily from his knees. He would put himself between Max and his daughter, if it came to that.

“Excuse me,” someone said outside the door. The voice was higher than Raph’s, oily, and it set the hair on Wyatt’s neck standing on end. Max.

Dad? Hazel mouthed.

Wyatt’s heart lodged in his throat. He shook his head, hugging himself as he straightened. I should be stronger than this. I shouldn’t let Max get to me. But he felt so weak right now, like anything he did against Max would be useless.

He stood between Hazel and the door, trembling, expecting pain.

The door handle rattled again, and then stopped.

For a long moment, they both stared at the door, Wyatt half-expecting it to break on its hinges. But it stayed intact, shut, and he heard no more voices from the outside.

Minutes passed. Wyatt didn’t know how long he stood, stock-still, his nails biting into his arms. Then, slowly, he curled back down, wrapping his arms around his knees. He shook harder than before.

Why is Max still in Meadowfall? Why can’t I be stronger?

He should be better than this. He should have taken Hazel away, walked out the doors with his head held high. Except right then, all he could think about was Max’s rough hands on him, and the pain, the humiliation, the injuries he had carried for days after.

He couldn’t even care for himself. Hazel had to guide him to safety. What kind of omega was he, failing as a father? Why would Raph want him, when Wyatt was this broken? To think he’d snapped at Raph because of the secret debt—Wyatt didn’t deserve someone like Raph at all.

He kept silent, tears tracking itchy paths down his face. Hazel was quiet. Outside, a forklift beeped.

Hazel set one hand on his shoulder, crouching next to him. “Are you okay now?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Not—not yet.”

“Okay.” She pulled her phone out. “Should I text Uncle Raph?”

Wyatt’s stomach flipped. What would Raph say, if he saw Wyatt like this? Wyatt wasn’t functioning right now. If Raph knew how messed-up Wyatt was... he’d probably leave.

He blinked hard, his chest squeezing tight. He was a father. He had to be strong for Hazel, and the new baby.

With a great effort, Wyatt pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled, then leaned against the whitewashed wall. “I... I can’t drive home right now. Could you text Sam?”

Hazel frowned. “Uncle Raph says I should text him before I text Uncle Sam for help.”

“Why?”

“Because he wants to marry you, and he also wants to be my dad.”

Wyatt bit his lip hard, his throat closing. I didn’t know you told her that. He swallowed, tried to speak, and swallowed again. “Text them both, I guess. Say ‘Dad needs your help right now.’”

Hazel tapped on her phone. “I told them where we are.”

Moments later, her phone buzzed. Wyatt’s heart leaped.

“Uncle Sam replied,” Hazel said. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“Raph?” Wyatt croaked, his heart sinking.

“He didn’t answer.”

Raph had promised to be around for Wyatt. But he was gone, far away and uncontactable, like Wyatt didn’t mean anything to him.

Wyatt closed his eyes, holding the swell of his belly. “That’s—that’s fine. We’ll wait for Sam.”

Hazel stepped up, hugging him from the side. Wyatt pulled her close, and focused on breathing. Things would be okay. Maybe Raph was just busy, and he’d be back at some point. Hopefully sooner than later.