Chapter 7

"It's nothing. Everything must be too much," I say as we unwrap the dinner from the aluminum foil.

We eat and I tell Maura Bellamy everything, baring my heart and soul to her, and feeling the pressure in my chest ease.

I hadn't realized how comforting it could be to talk to someone who would listen. Maura Bellamy told me that she had also found a partner when she was my age, but since she's an omega, she hadn't told anyone because it would be a disgrace to her family.

These days, it's rare to find someone so prejudiced about classification. What's most heartbreaking is that he never rejected her. Instead, he kept her by his side, refusing to let her go, because he couldn't bear the thought of her belonging to someone else.

He said it had become secondary for him to stay strong, since rejecting a partner weakens us. However, I think it was disgusting that he forced her to endure the agony of being alone.

When she became pregnant, he took their son and told her it was better if he raised him. She said that, aside from photos, she hadn't seen her son since he was a baby. He doesn't even know he exists because his partner told him he died during childbirth. Her story is tragic and heartbreaking, but she still loves him.

"Have you thought about moving on?" I ask her, and she shakes her head almost immediately.

"He keeps coming over every two weeks to spend the night," she tells me, shrugging her shoulders, as if she had never thought about finding someone else.

"Can I ask something, something a little personal?" I need to know; I need to know if I'm going to be tortured for the rest of my life.

"You can ask me anything you want, but then I'll ask you something," she says, and I nod.

"When I found my partner, he was with another woman. The pain... I mean, is it like this all the time? Will it be the same every time he's with someone?"

She swallowed hard and her eyes glazed over. Maura Bellamy sat down in her chair, looked out the window, and swallowed again.

"You will learn to endure it. After a while, you will even accept it."

"Why would I accept it?"

"Because it makes you angry. I love my partner, but I also hate him. Sometimes, hating them hurts less than realizing you'll never have them. It reminds you that you've to keep living despite what they do to you. Hold onto that anger, because sometimes it's the only thing that allows you to keep going."—"But they prescribe strong painkillers. They help lessen the effect, but if he's anything like my partner, they're gone before the medication even kicks in." She laughs.

"Damn two-stroke: he dumps his partner and wonders why he can't have good sex," she says to herself, and I snort at her foul language, trying to stifle my own laughter. She sighs and I smile sadly at her.

"So, what's the next step for you?" he asks.

"I'm not sure... I'll probably go back to my car to see if I can get my old job back, although the last time I asked he said no."

"What if I hire you? I need help here; there's not much we can do to save this junkyard now." She laughs, and I look around." What do you think? Do you think it's too much work? Could I burn it down?" Maura Bellamy laughs again, and her eyes sparkle.

I laugh too, thinking that it would probably be the easiest thing to do, just set the place on fire.

"I've been tempted," Maura Bellamy tells me," but it belonged to my mother before I came into it, so I'm attached to this place. I think it just needs a cleaning, new sheets and carpeting, and a fresh coat of paint. I could go on, but the list would be endless."

"So, if you're interested, you can live here for free, and I'll provide meals and a salary—say, $25 an hour," Maura Bellamy says, and I almost choke on my saliva. I didn't even earn that much in half an hour at the restaurant where I worked. And that restaurant had regular customers.

"Are you serious?" I ask, a little surprised.

"A lot. I need company and help. I don't even know where to start, and honestly, I lost the motivation to do it years ago. First, we can work this out for you and me," she said, looking around.

My eyes filled with tears at his generous offer.

"Don't you think you've friends? Maybe it's too much for both of us," she said, breaking off a piece of the tabletop as the wood crumbled in her hand. I think of Nadia Mercer and Tessa Rowan, from motherhood.

"Maybe I know two other girls from the maternity ward; I could try to contact them."

"Thieves?" she asks, and I nod." Good, tell them I'll give them $25 an hour. I'm willing to do it. I've more money than I could ever spend in this lifetime, so it would be great to get some help. It would be great to see this place up and running again. This hotel was the most popular in town when my mother owned it. It also has a reception hall in the back; they used to have weddings there, but not anymore, not since everything fell apart."

"So nobody answers when you call?" I ask him. What's wrong with people? Who would turn him down?