The Arrangement (Omegas of Hunter's Point Book 1)

Epilogue

Siobhan Ambrose emptied the bucket full of murky mop water into the sink, rinsed it, then refilled it. She wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple and cast another anxious glance at her phone. An email from the Provincial Council on Law School Admissions had popped into her notifications that morning after Damian had left to take Michael to school and himself to work, but she'd been too nervous to open it. Her LSAT scores were available. They must be. What if she hadn't passed?

She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. What was the worst that could happen if she didn't pass? She'd only be blowing an opportunity to begin law school at Damian's alma mater in two months. That's all. No biggie. Damian had only smiled when she'd revealed her nervousness and asked him the same question as they lay in bed several hours after she'd completed the exam. "In the incredibly miniscule, highly unlikely event that you did not pass the LSATs with flying colors, then we'll try again," he'd explained.

She couldn't imagine going through all that preparation all over again. Weeks upon weeks of flash cards, practice tests, pop quizzes in the shower (among other activities), and sleepless nights spent berating herself for some seemingly simple question she hadn't been able to answer correctly.

Damian had been a prince, throughout, putting in full days at the law firm, then returning home to help her cram. She'd taken up the slack in other ways, making all of their meals and preparing Michael's lunches in the evenings before she went to bed, as well as handling the cleaning and the laundry.

Her transition into domestic goddess-hood hadn't been the smoothest, but it'd had its moments, that was for sure. Like now, she thought, doing her level best to continue distracting herself. She'd been scouring the kitchen floor for over an hour as Brandon Orie's newest album blared over the sound system. Before that, she'd vacuumed the entire second floor, remade the beds, scrubbed the two upstairs bathrooms as well as the downstairs guest bath, dusted the office/library, and had just completed her mission in the kitchen when she caught sight of the time.

Until Von learned how to drive (those lessons thus far proving less fruitful than LSAT prep), Michael went to Mother Ambrose's house after school. The arrangement had done much to stave off any hard feelings over Michael's adoption. Mother Ambrose got to spend part of the day with her grandson, and Damian still got to provide the upbringing for the kid that he felt Emily would have wanted. Michael was happy. Damian was happy. Mother Ambrose was happy. Von was a little lonely during the day, but...whatever, it was fine.

She washed her hands and set out chicken, feta, spinach, sun dried tomatoes, and pine nuts, then set water boiling for the kid's macaroni and cheese. As she flattened the first of the chicken breasts with a meat mallet, her eyes drifted back over to her phone.

Just check it, you big baby, she admonished. It's not like there's a firing squad waiting for you if you didn't pass. She made a faltering step. No. She should wait until Damian got home, so there'd be a shoulder to cry on.

So, what if she didn't pass. It wouldn't be the end of the world. Besides, she told herself, the last time she'd been disappointed by the failure to get something she'd set her heart on, the gods had compensated her in the form of her long-awaited alpha, so...there was always an upside.

She slipped the stuffed chicken breasts into the oven and set the timer. After draining the macaroni, she dumped the lot into the pot of prepared white sauce and stirred in the cheese. Quickly dumping the concoction into a loaf pan, she slid it into the oven beside the chicken before going upstairs to shower, eager to get the lingering stenches of sweat and cleaning products off her skin.

Hot water cascaded down her shoulders, back, breasts, and stomach, trailing down her legs to swirl down the drain. She stood beneath the spray for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts, suddenly aware of several questions on the LSATs for which she now doubted the answers she'd given. Stop it, Siobhan! Torturing yourself like this won't help! Wishing fervently that Damian was in the shower with her to provide more needed distraction, she reached for the shampoo, lathered her hair, rinsed, worked the conditioner through it, then scrubbed down her body until she felt as clean as she'd left the kitchen floor.

She noted the time as she stepped out. She'd have to hurry to be dressed by the time the oven timer went off. Stepping into her and Damian's shared closet, she slipped into a pair of stretchy leggings and one of Damian's old university t-shirts, the mascot for which was emblazoned across the front. His comforting petrichor scent rose from the distressed cotton as she pulled it over her head.

Leaving her hair to air dry, she was descending the stairs barefoot when the elevator doors opened and an exuberant Michael popped out, running to her and waving a certificate.

"Auntie Von! Auntie Von! Guess what?"

She settled onto the tread of a lower step and pulled the boy into her lap. "What did you get, kiddo?"

"He's the best reader in his class," Damian finished, exiting the elevator with his briefcase in one hand and Michael's backpack slung over the opposite shoulder.

"Wow!" Von hugged the little boy. "Congratulations, kid! That's great! It's a good thing I made your favorite for dinner, then, huh?"

Michael's diamond-bright eyes sparkled. "Macaroni and cheese?"

"The very same. Take your backpack upstairs, please, and wash your hands. We're gonna eat in a few minutes."

Michael hopped off her lap, retrieved his backpack from his uncle, and shot upstairs with renewed enthusiasm. He was such an easy child to please, and it brought joy to Von's heart to do it.

Damian offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. "It's...um... very clean in here. If I'd known you'd be this worried about your scores, I'd have come home for lunch."

"Is it that obvious?" she asked as he planted a kiss on her lips.

"A little. You didn't open the email at all?"

She rubbed her hands on her thighs. "I couldn't. What if I failed?"

He kissed her again, threading his fingers through her still-damp hair. "I doubt that's the case, but so what if you did? You can take it more than once." Retrieving her phone from the kitchen counter, he tapped in her code. "Do you want to know your score now, or after dinner?"

She gnawed on a hangnail. "Now, I think. I'll be too anxious to eat, otherwise. Best to know, either way." She watched those mesmerizing turquoise eyes scanning lines of text, his cupid's bow lips mouthing some of the words. Her heart sank when those lips formed a line.

"Remind me, what score were you going for?"

"Admission requirement was a 165, so that, or better." She observed him for another beat. "I didn't make it, did I? Just tell me. Don't try to spare me."

"You got a 170."

"Well, I mean, I can always try again, and - " His statement landed, causing her brain to grind to a halt, like the scratch of a needle on vinyl. "Wait, I got a what? It sounded like you said I got a 170."

A slow smile decorated her handsome alpha's face. "You did. You got a 170. You passed."

She passed? She passed! She was going to law school! She uttered an excited shriek and jumped into his arms. "I passed! I passed!"

Damian swung her around. "I knew you could do it!"

"What's goin' on?" Michael asked. Their displays of PDA tended to gross him out.

"Auntie passed her test!" Damian exclaimed. "She's going to law school!"

"Really?" Michael crossed the distance and jumped up and down. "YAY! You did it, Auntie Von!"

She had done it, and for once, she hadn't had to do it alone. Von had met a goal with the loving support and understanding of her new family. Anything was possible so long as they were all together.

Except dinner. The smell of scorching feta hit her nostrils. "Shit!" she muttered, throwing open the oven door.

Another rock on the road to domestic goddess-hood. Damian was already ordering pizza.