Because Eric loved his daughter, and if something happened to her, if Ollie fucked up anymore... The blame would fall on his shoulders.
How did you say, I’m afraid you’ll leave me?
“I believe in you,” Eric whispered. “We’ll both learn from this, okay? It’s not just your fault, Ollie. It’s mine, too.”
Eric met his gaze, pressing their foreheads together. This close, Eric’s eyes were red-brown, framed with thick lashes. He was beautiful. So much better than Ollie.
Olivier gulped, twisting his fingers together. “I guess.”
Eric hugged him, and for a long moment, they stood quietly, Jenn babbling to herself.
“It’s okay,” Eric said quietly. “Face the future, yeah? Not the past. We can do this.”
Olivier gulped, breathing in deep. “I’ll try to remember that.”
Eric kissed his forehead. “That’s the way to go.”
“Gogogo,” Jenn said, wiping her egg-smeared hands all over Eric’s shirt.
Eric huffed, leaning away from Jenn. “See, she’s fine now. Don’t worry about it.”
Olivier cracked a smile. “I’ll try not to.”
Then Jenn grabbed Ollie’s hair, patting scrambled eggs all over his cheeks.
Eric sighed. “No, hon. Don’t cover Ollie in egg.”
As he turned her away, Jenn squealed. “Dada! No, no, no!”
“That might become her favorite word,” Olivier said dryly. Eric chuckled.
“She’ll be putting together whole sentences before you know it,” Eric murmured, kissing Ollie’s neck. “And then she’ll say your name, too. Or call you Papa.”
Ollie’s heart squeezed tight. “Maybe,” he said.
“She will.” Eric smiled more widely now, reaching around to stroke Olivier’s belly. “And she’ll play nice with her new brother. Or sister. Have you decided on a name yet?”
Eric really wanted that new baby, didn’t he? Olivier flushed. “I haven’t.”
“Well, decide soon.” Eric rubbed his knuckles over Olivier’s belly. “It’s just another eighteen weeks, isn’t it? Then our new one will be here.”
“Our new one? But Jenn...”
Eric laced their fingers together. “You want Jenn to be yours, don’t you?”
He did, Olivier realized. He wanted Jenn to smile more at him, he wanted to watch her grow up, and perhaps, one day, she’d come tumbling into his arms, seeking comfort. He wanted to be someone important in her life.
“Maybe,” Ollie croaked.
Eric smiled, brushing his fingers through Olivier’s hair. “Then we’ll make it happen,” Eric murmured. “We’ll get married, become a proper family.”
Olivier forgot to breathe. You can’t possibly want me to marry you.
Could this really work out, him and Eric? With Ollie uncertain of himself, and Alice’s memory still hovering between them?
26
Eric
The dream began with Eric’s final year in college. He didn’t know how he knew, only that it was his exams and he’d forgotten his pencil case.
He sat at his desk, the booklet for Advanced Marketing Concepts blank before him. He needed to borrow a pen. But the desks around were empty, and the clock was ticking down.
“Do you need a pen?” a soft voice asked.
When he turned, he found an omega with red hair and green eyes. She smiled sweetly; relief washed through his veins.
“Yes,” Eric said. “Thanks.”
He began to scribble the answers to the exam questions. When he looked up, Alice was six years older, more weight on her body, her belly round.
“Her name is Jenn,” Alice said, a hopeful smile on her face. “Will you care for her?”
“Yeah. Of course,” Eric said with a swell of fondness toward his omega and baby. “I will.”
“I trust you,” she answered. “You’re good with children.”
“Not as good as you,” Eric said.
Alice laughed, squeezing his hand. “You’re such a flirt.”
“You don’t really think I’m flirting, do you?”
“No, I don’t. I just like teasing.” She grinned, and there was Jenn in her arms, swaddled up in pastel blankets.
For a moment, it felt like the old times again. Like everything would go right. They would be a happy family, there would be more children on the way, and Eric would be glad he married his best friend.
“What’s that?” Alice asked, pointing at the desk.
Eric looked back at his exam booklet, except it had turned into an emergency room form. His name had been filled in, his phone number, his address. Next of kin: Jennifer Lancaster.
He almost knew, before he looked up, what he would find.
“Why did you do this to me?” Alice asked. Blood trickled down her face, her skin deathly-pale, her body broken. “Why, Eric?”
Why? He didn’t know. He’d messed up.
Her gravestone rose behind her, the muddy pit yawning open, threatening to swallow him.
Eric woke with a strangled scream, his chest too tight, the sheets stuck to his sweaty skin.
Alice. Where was Alice?
Except it wasn’t his bedroom in Highton. The curtains were pastel pink, there was a violin mural on the wall, and the sheets smelled like carnation. Not Alice’s bluebell scent.
This was Olivier’s room. Alice was dead. He’d never see her again.
She isn’t Ollie, Eric told himself. All the same, Alice had been his best friend, and the bars that clamped around his heart squeezed tight.
He’d failed her. He’d gotten her killed, and Eric should’ve been gone instead of Alice. Alice was the one who had been better with Jenn, she had known what to do every step of the way.
Eric buried his face in his hands, his eyes wet. It took him a long moment to accept that he’d never see Alice again.
Then he wondered if she’d be okay with him taking Olivier as his bondmate.
His gut told him she would. Except there was a nagging little voice that asked, Why would she, when you were the one to cause her death? Why should you deserve happiness?
His heart aching, Eric staggered off the bed. He pulled on his shorts and trudged to the kitchen, where Ollie had Jenn in the high chair.
They hadn’t seen him. Jenn turned away when Ollie tried to feed her, so Ollie smiled and set the cereal on her tray. Jenn dug her spoon into the bowl.
“There,” Olivier said. “Have it your way.”
Ollie looked so confident with Jenn now, that it could’ve
