Ch 3: Too Perfect

I thought it had to be some kind of weird fever dream, something unique to my experience coming across a random well-off alpha in the middle of nowhere Oregon in the parking lot of a questionable gas station. Even more-so an alpha who was actually interested in me. As it so happened, Joe did this kind of thing often. Picked up pretty little omegas after long evening drives out into quiet corners of the state. I did mention that I was in fact, not an omega.

"It doesn't hurt to try something different," he had told me over a glass of expensive looking wine at an expensive looking Italian restaurant while I self-consciously fiddled with the cuffs of the expensive looking tailored suit he had bought me. "I've had plenty of omegas. Why not try something new?"

It hurt, if I'm being honest. It hurt a lot.

I was some dumb kid from some obscure neighborhood in New York. Barely a man, as Vinnie so often liked to point out. This was something way out of my league. He was way out of my league. I had never dated. I had always imaged it would be with another delta, I'd be the one buying them little roses and chocolates with the little honest money I would make from my mechanic shop. We'd spend the Friday nights listening to Eagles records and a little bit of Billy Joel. This obviously wasn't the relationship in my head.

Joseph Darling. Third son of Clarissa and Robert Darling. They owned some fancy Newspaper under the title of Satfon News and a geopolitics forecasting firm. His oldest brother, Benjamin Darling (I was told saying his full first name was important; not that it mattered since I never got to meet him) worked as a senior member at the firm. His other brother, Gavin Darling, was some big-shot lawyer in Houston. Clarissa was a beautiful omega from a long line of pure omegas. Robert was your standard old-money, alpha patriarch. Suffice to say, they were an important family in Oregon and in the western United States.

"You've really never heard of us?" Joe would smirk and gave an annoyingly charming laugh.

"I guess it hurts your little bougie soul, huh?" I shot back. We were driving down a long stretch of highway. Joe had refused to tell me where we were going.

"Bougie, huh?" he scoffed. "And what are you? The oppressed proletariat? Should I be worried about whether or not you own a guillotine?"

The corner of my lip quirked up as I gave him an eye-role. "Maybe."

He chuckled, and I could feel his eyes on me but I was looking out through the window. We had been seeing each other for two months up to that point. I didn't know what exactly it was that we had. He kept a relationship going for at least a few months before breaking it off. The sudden thought twisted up something inside of me. An uncomfortable silence settled. I watched with a sense of morbidness as endless fields passed by us, part of me wishing that this could last for a little bit longer.

A two hour nap in a car ride later, we were hiking through a trail of Mount Saint Helens National Park.

"What an idea for a date, Darling," I muttered out with the hope that my sarcasm was dripping through each word. I pushed away a branch as I pressed on after him. "You tryin' to tell me something about my weight? Looked in the mirror lately?"

That was a lie of course. The psychopath jogged every morning.

"Shut it, Fitzroy," he shot back but I could hear the laughter in his voice. Bastard thought this was hilarious.

I, of course, refused to shut it. For the next half hour as we made a grueling trek up a slope, I let him know exactly how I felt about him waking me up at 5 am in the morning and taking me up a mountain.

"Christ have mercy. You're worse than an omega."

"Casual sexism, huh? You're really earning yourself all the dick-wad points today."

He didn't reply but I could feel his irritation, and I bet he could feel my smugness.

"Shut up. Look, we're here," he said. I watched him push through some more pine trees before disappearing behind a thicket. I groaned and forced myself to push through.

"Where exactly is here-Oh. Woah."

I could feel his eyes on me. He was definitely smirking. I ignored it this once because all I could see before me was the miles and miles of forest touched by blankets of fog sprawling every which way. There wasn't the cliche romantic sunset that happened while the alpha kissed the omega but there was something better; a gray sky and some stray clouds indicating that a light rain would soon be apparent. It was the way I liked it, sitting by the small fireplace at the bookstore and drinking black coffee in the early mornings. Better than any sunset. I had told Joseph once in the heat of the moment after an hour tangled together on the hotel bed. It was embarrassing. Guess Joe didn't think so.

"So...do I get a kiss?"

I smiled. I almost had the thought to make him beg but stopped short when I saw the gentle smile on his face. My heart flipped as our lips brushed, his perfectly soft and mines a little chapped. It wasn't a kiss under the sunset but for a lacking non-romantic like me, it was almost too perfect.

I suppose what they say is true. Some things really are too perfect.

-8-

The signs were all there from the beginning, loud and bright, but I'd become a blind man the night he gave me his card. Our first date was real hush-hush. He picked me up in a simple Toyota, one I refused to believe a man like him drove on the regular. I had to walk at least three blocks from the bookstore so no one would see us.

"Unlike you, most people here could recognize me from a mile away," he'd bragged. "I just want to keep this quiet."

He emphasized the fact that this was more of an arrangement. Slipping in memories of past lovers.  Winking at waitresses and waiters while taking me to some high-end restaurant. Introducing me as a servant or valet if he really needed to.

But then the hike up Saint Helens happened and suddenly he stopped. I'd never known at the time whether or not he took all his lovers up mountain trails or done other such grand romantic gestures, and I'd never asked. But he stopped talking about past conquests after the fact. No more quick winks at restaurant staff. More sweet talk in bed. More nights spent at the hotel together. It gave me hope. Maybe he felt the same way. I tried one night.

"You ever heard of Ross Edwards?" I'd asked on a cold, rainy night as we lay together watching some show or another on Netflix.

For once, he was surprisingly silent. No witty banter, no straight, disinterested answer. Just a  silence. His eyes shifted a little. Then he shrugged.

"Everyone has heard of the Edwards," he'd simply said.

Had he actually met Ross? I wanted to ask about the silence but it was clearly something he wouldn't talk about if the specific way his jaw set said anything. I shrugged. "Asshole opened a bookstore near my cousin's. Running us out of business. I..might have to move back to New York. Nothing for me here."

The words that weren't said hung in the air. I waited for him to respond. Some foolish, hopeful, naive part of me hoped he would contradict me. Of course there's something for you here. Stay in Portland. Stay with me.

Instead, all I got was a simple, "Oh." Practically a punch to the gut.

That should have tipped me off. Reality was practically screaming into my ear, clawing at my rose-tinted glasses in a futile attempt to rip them off and show me things for what they really were.

Of course I didn't listen. The bookstore was closing. An uncertain future lay ahead and here came along this alpha who didn't treat me like trash as soon as he knew that I was a delta.

I said the first time I truly felt my subgender was the on the passing of my parents. Although I often felt like Joe's dirty little secret, the reality of what I was to him didn't truly hit until one night after a party.

-8-

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

"I'm really sorry."

"I know that Joe," I spoke gruffly, trying to hide the raspy way my voice came out.

A pause over the phone.

Then, "Jesus, are you crying? Con, really, I'm sorry..."

I let out a long sigh. I squeezed my eyes shut. I sucked in a breath before talking into the cell while pushing out a laugh. "Really man, it's fine. Like you say, I'm no omega. What, you think we deltas cry? Joe, it's ok. I've done this a million times before."

I had. Four months into the relationship, Joe offered to rent out an apartment for me. I'd offered to pay at least half but he'd refused. The bookstore was closed. I had no where else to go. Sammy and Vinnie sent their regards in a whirlwind of hugs, handshakes, and sad goodbyes before heading off to California to join Sammy's aunt in her restaurant business. Joe and I lived together in a sense. He visited often. Of course, that meant more secrecy. Whenever I asked what the big deal was, why I couldn't just meet his damn family, Joe rebuked me. It always devolved into a nasty argument. He'd refused to visit me for almost a week when he'd found out I had visited the area where the forecasting firm was located. Yelling and screaming about how his brother could have seen me.

That didn't stop me from asking him if he could skip out on the parties he often went to. Six months into our relationship, and Joe was now becoming involved in the family business. Marketing, networking, drinking cocktails while surrounded no doubt by a pretty assortment of omegas. I rarely saw him. And no matter how much I insisted it, he denied the fact that he was becoming colder. Quicker to irritation, less receptive to quips and dumb jokes, a little more on the side of "Why the hell did you need to buy that? You need to stop spending so much" when I used the credit card he gave me to replace my worn out clothing.

This was another one of those nights. Twelve months into our relationship. A few days after my 23rd birthday.

"I'm really sorry I can't take you. You know why I can't."

"I know. I'm a delta."

Another pause. A sigh. Finally, "It's a little more complicated than that, Con."

It really wasn't, but I hardly wanted to start another argument. When the phone call finally ended, I took a deep breath and felt the tears coming to my eyes. I forced them away.

I called Elise. I asked about New York and the mechanic shop she'd turned into a mildly successful small business. I listened to her curse out a guy she'd hired and how "the god damn bastard thinks he can steal from my register? I showed the little shit." We talked for hours as I lied on the giant king-sized bed I'd shared with Joe countless times. Lost in old memories and our current lives, I missed the front door opening. It was only when Joe was standing over me that I gave Elise a quick goodbye.

"Hey, Joe, nice to see you-"

"We need to talk."

-8-

Funny how four little words can change so much.

"You need to leave. I made a mistake."

Really, who would have thought? Life is funny and screwed up in that way, I suppose.

"It's not working out. I don't usually do this ok. It got out of hand."

You take a hit one right after the other and it just keeps coming at you. Relentless, never ceasing, always with such a god-damned vengeance.

"I...yes...I'm sorry, but yeah. It's...you're a delta. I'm sorry for stringing you along."

But you can't always blame it on the circumstances. They just are. It's the choices you make with the hand you're dealt. It's what my father would say.

"What? No, no, it never meant anything more to me, ok? It was just a fling, Fitzroy. Just a fling. You're a delta. Don't get all emotional on me, ok? You knew what this thing meant from the beginning."

I made some choices. Or mistakes, shall we say. I decided to call him back after that night he gave me his card. I looked the other way when he introduced me to others as his personal servant. I pretended not to notice when he told me to quiet down as he talked to a family member on the phone. As he winked at waitresses. As he yelled at when he'd found out I'd been walking past where Benjamin worked. I made the choice to fall in love.

"You've been using up all my money! The apartment! The clothes! The dinners! Jesus, Conrad, I'm like a walking credit card to you! I'll give you a few hundred. Go back to New York or whatever. I just need you to leave before anyone notices."

I made the mistake to fall in love. I was paying for it at the homeless shelter currently. I could call Vinnie but I didn't want to be a burden. They'd done so much for me. I didn't want to call Elise. I didn't want to go back to New York. But as I chocked down the cold soup and looked around at the poor beaten souls, gammas and deltas most of them, I knew there was really no other option.

It was the price for believing in something that was too perfect to be real.

-8-

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