Page 88 of Adoring Fletcher
“It’s not fair!” I cried out, my voice rough. “Why me? This is all I ever wanted, and I don’t even get a chance? It’s not fair, Adam!”
“I know, baby,” Adam murmured, stroking his hand over my knee in soothing circles. “I’m so sorry, Fletch. We’ll figure it out.”
I jerked away from him, an ache so deep building in my chest that I feared I might be swallowed whole. “No we won’t,” I snapped, bitter. “Apparently the fates don’t want me to have a baby. I want to go home.”
Adam pulled his hand away, nodding soundlessly. As the car shifted into gear, I leaned my head against the window, tears blurring out the world around me.
57
ADAM
Watchingmy mate grieve the loss of a baby he’d never carry was painful. I was grieving in my own way as well, because deep down, I felt like my father had cursed us, somehow. That his bitter hatred for Fletcher had caused this.
Fletcher spent the next couple of weeks despondent, picking at his food, curled up in blankets on the couch, watching TV but not really paying attention. I tried my best to be there for him, but he was so distant.
It was worrying me.
What if he did something that took him away from me forever? God, I could never live with myself. I needed to do something, but what?
I slipped into my study and sat down at the desk, then called the only person I could really truly confide in—Aria Winters.
“I don’t know what to do,” I murmured. “I’ve never seen him this depressed, Ari. He’s a shell of himself and it’s scaring me. It’s to the point where I’m half-afraid to leave him alone. He’s just so down.”
“Oh, Adam.” Her compassion made my chest ache a little less, at least. “An Omega’s purpose, at our core, is to havechildren, to raise and to love and to cherish them. Fletcher is likely lost and scared right now. He really loves you, Adam, and he is grieving the loss of raising your future son or daughter, a little one that would’ve shared features from both of you. He needs therapy to work through the grief. You might need it too, I don’t know.”
“I’m fine,” I told her.
“You say that now, but I can feel your despair. I hear it in your voice.”
I grumbled. “I’m just worried about Fletcher. I don’t want to lose him.”
“Okay. Let me do a bit of research and I’ll text you a couple of numbers of good shifter therapists in your area, okay?” Aria said. “Fletcher needs someone unbiased to talk to, someone he can be brutally honest with.”
“He has me—” I began, but she cut in.
“Someone that’snotyou.”
I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Ari. You’re the best.”
“Hang in there, Adam. It’s gonna be okay. Just be there for him. He needs you right now, now more than ever.”
Didn’t I know it?
A couple of days later, Aria sent me a few numbers. After vetting them and doing my own digging, I decided on one. Of course, I needed to talk to Fletcher about this first.
I broached the subject carefully, like approaching a wild animal that might try and flee if it felt cornered.
I offered Fletcher a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows. He perked up a little bit, taking a tiny sip. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, kitten,” I said, sitting down on the couch beside him. I gave it a few moments before drawing in a deep breath. “Fletch? Can we talk?”
His brow furrowed. “Yeah, sure, I guess.” He didn’t sound so sure, though.
“I’m worried about you, baby. Your depression isn’t getting any better. It’s been weeks.”
Fletcher growled at me. “How is it supposed to? I’m barren, Adam!”
“I know, love. I know it’s a hard pill to swallow, which is why I think you need to talk to someone about this.”
