⚠️ Trigger Warning: Mentions of sexual abuse, abandonment, and trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

It’s been eight years since that terrible night with Robbie.

Back then, I told myself I’d fight, I wouldn’t give in, no matter what. But I had no idea where to start. I was confused, lost, and alone, and still in high school, broke, and with no special skills to offer the world; I felt like I was drowning in uncertainty.

But I didn’t let that be my excuse to quit.

Robbie became part of my past, a bitter memory. His betrayal cut deep, but I refused to let it be the end of me. I couldn’t afford to wallow in that pain.

After all, I had nowhere to go. 

My home, for as long as I could remember, had been the Omega Welfare Centre. It was created to shelter discarded, abandoned Omegas like me.

I was twelve when I was dropped off at the Centre. It was right after the sub-gender examination. That day changed everything. My parents, the people who’d raised me for twelve years, left me there and never looked back, just because I was an Omega.

It took me a full year to accept the truth that I’d been abandoned.

Since then, the Centre had become my home. They provided for my basic needs, supported my education, and most importantly, gave me access to heat suppressants. Thanks to their help, I made it to high school.

I was a month away from my final exams when everything fell apart. 

But even four months pregnant, I sat for my exams and passed with flying colors.

The Centre supported me through the pregnancy and helped deliver my son.

They were surprised I chose to keep the baby. Most Omegas in my situation wanted nothing to do with children conceived through abuse. Many couldn’t bear to look at their babies, seeing them only as reminders of what was taken from them. 

However, Twen was not conceived under such circumstances; maybe that’s why I wanted to keep him so bad.

Omegas have long lived under the shadow of violence and stigma. 

The so-called “great” Alphas often used their status as an excuse to hurt us. Our heat cycles were blamed for their lack of control. We were told it was our fault. That our scent provoked them. That we should’ve been more cautious.

As if we could simply stop our biology.

No one ever asked Alphas to control their instincts. But Omegas were expected to suppress their natural selves, or be called temptresses, gold-diggers, and even whores.

Even as the government introduced reforms–job reservations, subsidized heat suppressants—public perception remained poisonous. And when Omegas were assaulted, there was no justice, just more blame.

Still, I survived.

After Twen was born, I left the city with nothing but my high school diploma and a newborn in my arms. Life didn’t magically get easier. The money I had went into Twen’s food and clothes. We often went hungry. I begged some nights, just so he could eat.

That’s when I met him, a kind-hearted Alpha named Fred. The first one who didn’t make me feel small. He helped me get my first job as a housekeeper. I never knew kindness could come from an Alpha like that.

But my life changed again, and due to unforeseen circumstances, I lost that job and him.

But I continued working in the restaurant, and with Samuel Dumas, whom Fred introduced me to. Back then, Samuel was a young Demi Chef de Partie, already calm, competent, kind, and a Beta. He never looked at me with pity or contempt.

He gave me a chance. He trained me. Let me stay with him, splitting rent, until he moved in with his girlfriend. He even helped me get a diploma in culinary arts.

I owe him more than I can say.

Thanks to people like him, and a few others along the way, I rebuilt my life from nothing.

It took me eight years.

It’s been eight years since everything fell apart. I’ve never let myself dwell on the past. There’s no use reopening old wounds. 

But tonight, for some reason, those memories return like ghosts.

Maybe it’s the upcoming move. Or maybe my mind just has too much room tonight.

I glanced at Twen, peacefully asleep beside me. A soft smile rose to my lips. I leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Then I stepped onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette and letting my hair fall loose.

This place has been good to me. It was quiet and… unintrusive. One of the rare neighborhoods where no one cared about sub-genders or anyone else’s business at all.

But now I have to leave.

I only hope I can explain it to Twen in a way that won’t shake him too much.

I watched the smoke drift into the dark sky. It’s been a hard road, but I made it. I built a life and a future.

I don’t want to remember the past anymore. 

They’re pieces of a chapter I’ve finished.

Now, I have Twen. I have my friends. I have Chef Samuel, a brother and guardian in all but name. I don’t have a partner by my side, but maybe that’s for the best. 

Just a few more years, and I’ll open a restaurant of my own.

That will be my full circle.

The cigarette smoke curled in the air, forming strange, shapeless forms. I watched them fade.

“Haaaah, I should start packing.”

I stepped back inside and stubbed out the smoke. My eyes landed on the photo frame on the shelf, me and Twen, both smiling.

I just hope I can give him everything he needs.

I hope he never longs for a father.

Because that’s the one thing… I can never give him.