But that didn’t explain the scars, did it? Brad touched them carefully. “Is that why you have these? Aside from the bills.”
Ian glanced at the rings of scars on his upper arms, running his fingertips over them. “I think… I’m defective. I try my best. I want to be better, and it’s just… not enough. Do you ever feel that way?”
Brad remembered his own regrets. The kids he couldn’t save in the fire. His mom dying. He remembered the helpless feeling, and wondered if Ian had felt that way his entire life.
“You had to be good enough,” Brad said. “Your mom would’ve told you that.”
Ian smiled sadly. “I wasn’t good enough for her.”
Was that possible? Ian’s gaze was honest, regretful. Brad thought about his own mother, Mom’s warm smile, her saying he’d done great with his tests, with the football team in school. His dad had frowned, but Brad’s mom had always been there for him. “What about your dad?”
Ian shrugged. “He wasn’t around a lot. There was just my mom.”
Brad exhaled. Imagined Ian alone, faced with disapproval, and a parent who was hardly there. “Who gave you compliments, then?”
Ian thought about it for a long moment. “There was a teacher in middle school. An old science teacher—Mrs. Irvine. She said she hadn’t seen anyone make it through a high school chemistry textbook like I did.”
He said that with a wistful smile. Brad’s heart ached for him. Ian hadn’t had anyone, had he? His whole life had been filled with loneliness, unlike Brad.
“I don’t think she realized it, but Mrs. Irvine’s words made me feel a lot better. That was when I thought… maybe I could be a teacher. So I could help students when they needed it.”
Brad remembered the hours they’d spent in Ian’s office, Ian going through textbooks and assignments with him, always patient. He thought about the tiny smile Ian always wore, his encouraging words.
Then he thought about the support that Ian never had, and something in his chest grew tight, angry.
“Someone should’ve been there for you,” Brad muttered, narrowing his eyes. “You shouldn’t have had to resort to this.”
He touched Ian’s arm, and Ian looked away.
“I wish my mother had been kinder to me,” Ian said, smiling wanly. “You don’t tell a child he won’t be loved.”
Brad held his breath, dreading Ian’s next words. “That’s what she said to you?”
Ian looked away. “I asked her if she loved me. She said she did, and then she slapped me.”
Brad stopped breathing. Imagined Ian as a tiny child, facing that. Imagined Ian by himself, crying. Then he growled, his chest burning. Who the fuck did that to their own child?
“I don’t think it’s ever left me,” Ian said. “No matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise.”
“How old were you? When—when she did that.”
Ian shrugged. “Maybe five. I just… sometimes I think about it. It’s not something you forget easily. It’s funny, isn’t it? The memories we retain as we get older. Sometimes they seem like such small things, but they stay with us for life.”
“That’s no small thing,” Brad seethed, needing to punch something. “That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
“I know it isn’t.” Ian sighed. “But I’ve also spent years thinking about it, trying to see what I did wrong. And the more mistakes I saw, the more convinced I was that… I was just inadequate. It’s kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess. But I can’t escape it.”
He hugged himself, curling his hands instinctively around the scars like he wanted to hide them again.
“Why’d she even do that?” Brad asked. “I mean… she’s your mom. She has to love you.”
Ian shrugged, his eyes downcast. “She told me I was never wanted. She said my biological father was scum—the alpha she’d met before she married my dad.”
Brad leaned in close, his heart conflicted. Ian’s past… that was all sorts of wrong. Brad wanted revenge for Ian’s sake. Wanted to comfort Ian. Heal those old hurts. “She still alive? Your mom.”
Ian glanced warily at him. “She is. Why?”
“I’m gonna go set her straight.”
Ian breathed in sharply. “No, please don’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It won’t change anything.” Ian shrugged, looking away. “She’s just… not someone who changes her mind easily. I’ve tried. And I just… she’ll think terribly of you, too. You’re young, you know.”
The look in Ian’s eyes—he looked resigned, like he’d given up. Brad growled. “Doesn’t excuse what she did to you.”
“I guess not.”
Brad wanted to charge down to Ian’s mom’s place, and hammer her door down. But Ian was right—whatever Brad did to her now, it wouldn’t solve the decades of scarring that had already taken place. Ian would be better off if Brad mended those scars, instead of beating up the person who had caused them.
So he gathered Ian in his arms, and pressed kisses all over Ian’s face. “You know you’re loved now,” Brad murmured, looking into his eyes. “You have me. And Gwen loves you, too. And the baby.”
Ian gulped, blinking hard. “Yeah. I know.”
“So one day, I want you to look at yourself, and know you’re a beautiful human being.”
Ian chuckled. “That’s possible?”
“Yeah. It is.” Brad kissed him on the lips, slow and lingering. “I’ll help you.”
“That sounds a lot easier than doing it myself.”
Brad dragged his wrists down Ian’s arms, pressing Ian into their bed. “Probably. But I’ll also hang around and tell you that forever. You’re perfect.”
Ian blushed, and Brad nuzzled him, stroking his hair. Cradled Ian close to himself, grateful that he’d found his omega, that Ian seemed to want to think better of himself, too.
There was still a long journey ahead of them, but for now, they’d taken the first step.
18
Ian
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Ian said, his heart thumping. “You remember what your father said.”
Brad pressed a slow kiss to Ian’s lips, the points of his teeth dragging against Ian’s skin. “Yeah, I remember.”
“So you’re coming to class anyway?”
“I’m already in your office, aren’t I?”
Brad
