"You looked depressed today," Lorene said, handing me another stack of papers to organize into our filing system at the shelter. We were doing good work here, really, but sometimes it was damn boring too.

"Relationship troubles," I waved her off, taking the papers and looking back at the computer on my desk. I'd picked the wrong words, though. Lorene grew even more interested in knowing what was wrong with me now.

"That's too bad," she said, coming around the desk, obviously hoping for some office gossip. "I didn't even know you were in a relationship."

"Actually, I'm not. It's complicated."

"I like complicated stories." She leaned against the desk, making herself comfortable. I wasn't gonna get rid of her, was I?

"Don't you have work to do?" I asked, making a show of looking at the excel table on my computer.

"It's quiet right now. Everyone's fed and happy. Even our newest problem case."

I swallowed as she mentioned 'our newest problem case.' Mitch Hastings had just come to us after escaping the exact same kind of domestic abuse I knew from home. He had a little one with him too, a cute girl only two years of age. I was glad he got out, but seeing these battered omegas always reminded me of my childhood.

In a way, that was good, though. I could never forget where I'd come from, what I'd seen, what I could never let myself become. "I'm glad he's doing well," I made myself say past the lump in my throat. Honestly, you'd think my time working here would have numbed me to the tragedies of omegas, but no.

"Yeah, he's adjusting well. But back to the topic at hand." She grinned at me. "Who are you dating?"

"I'm not dating anyone." And that was the problem, wasn't it? The omega I loved was already taken by someone else. I tried not to think about it day in day out, but it was impossible.

"You said you had relationship troubles."

I had said that, hadn’t I? I leaned back in my chair and ran my hands through my hair. "The omega I like is seeing someone else. That’s all. I’m sure it happens to all of us." Although, maybe not. Lorene was a beta. But I was sure there was some beta guy or girl out there who'd caused her heartache at some point.

"I see." She nodded thoughtfully. "Does this omega know how you feel about him?"

I licked my lips, letting my gaze roam the office as I thought about this. My eyes stuck on one of the many colorful drawings on the wall. Drawings given to us by the children we'd sheltered here. Children with parents like mine. "I suppose he knows," I found myself saying. "But he also knows that we wouldn't work out. It's all pointless really." Why couldn't my heart accept that fact? Why did I keep thinking about it?

"Why couldn't you work out?"

Should I tell her? Would she understand? "He wants children," I started. "And I... I really don't think I should have any."

"You don't like children?" She studied me as if she couldn't believe this to be true. "I wouldn't have thought. You're always so good with the kids staying with us, making them those paper animals."

"It's called origami," I commented out of reflex. "And it's not that I don't like children. It's just... what if I turn into the sort of alpha who..." I trailed off, struggling for the right words to say. My fears all sounded so stupid when I put them into words. It was as if the monsters who lived inside my head became tiny once they left there and no one could ever see how terrifying they really were.

Lorene's eyebrows knitted together. "You're not going to become one of those alphas, Ben," she said in a soft but serious tone of voice. "I know it's a common worry for former children of abuse, but you also know what we try to teach them, right? We don't have to become our parents. Statistics show that—"

"Please don't quote your statistics at me. I'm not a statistic."

Her lips curved up in triumph. "Exactly!"

Why did I feel like I'd walked right into her trap? "You don't know what it's like."

"No, perhaps not, but give me some credit. You're hardly the first traumatized alpha I come across, even if we work mostly with omegas here."

I shot her a skeptical look. Traumatized alphas? Give me a break. The alphas were usually the ones who did all the traumatizing. The omegas were the ones who really suffered in our society.

"Omegas don't own all the tragedy in the world," Lorene informed me, as if she could tell exactly what I was thinking. Okay, maybe she was better at her job than her unassuming demeanor let on. "Perhaps you should think about getting therapy."

"Therapy?"

"You don't have to look so shocked. You see how many kids we get here. Lots of them end up in therapy later on in life, no matter how much we do here. A few of them are alphas. There's nothing shameful about getting therapy as an alpha. You have to do what makes you happy."

What makes me happy... The way she said it made it sound so simple.

"You have to evaluate whether your past trauma is keeping you from present happiness," she added. "Even if it's too late for you to make up with the omega you mentioned, I'd hate to see you live your whole life in your father's shadow."

I dragged the flat of my palm down my face. "You might be right. I don't know. I have to think about it." Because she was right about something else too—it was probably too late for me to make up with Robin. And if I couldn't have Robin, did it really matter?