Chapter 8

Fenrik’s POV

“She’s not my boyfriend.”

She said it fast—without even thinking. Like it didn’t mean anything.

But to me… it did.

I stayed quiet, letting the words settle in the air between us. My jaw tightened, but I didn’t let it show too much. I just looked away, pretending her words didn’t hit the one place I was trying to hide—my heart.

Of course, I should’ve known. I wasn’t hers. Not yet. But damn, how I wished she was mine. I’d give anything just to hear her say my name like it meant something more.

I remembered that kiss—not the one at the party, but the first one. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was rushed. I was leaving town, and I kissed her hard, told her I’d be back, and made sure that kiss stayed in her memory.

Then last night… she kissed me.

Even if it was fake for her…

It wasn’t fake for me.

Not even close.

I wanted more.

But of course, my sweet little jealous brother had to ruin it.

The nurse came back, checking Agatha’s vitals with her usual cheer. “Looks like you’ll be going home today, miss,” she said, scribbling something on her clipboard.

“For an omega like you, you heal fast,” she added with a smile.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Thank goodness,” I muttered, and Agatha glanced at me.

I smirked and leaned back in my chair, putting my feet up on the edge of her bed. “What? Do you know how much you owe me now? I wasted all my time sitting here with you, omega,” I said, raising my brows in a teasing way.

She gave me that annoyed look I secretly loved. “Well, I didn’t beg you to stay. You should’ve gone home instead. It’s not like you’re my friend.”

“Ouch,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest like her words had stabbed me.

She rolled her eyes and looked away, but she didn’t tell me to leave.

She never does.

The truth? She *is* home now. And I’d sleep on this hard hospital couch for a hundred nights if it meant being close to her.

Later, after the nurse gave the final check, we waited around a bit before it was time to go. Finally, she was discharged.

“Mrs. Morrow,” I said, stepping closer to Agatha’s mom with a grin. “Should I give you two a ride home?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, that would be very nice of you, my son,” she said warmly.

I took her bag before she could even blink and held it with one hand while she went to sign the discharge forms.

“What are you doing?” Agatha asked, frowning.

“Being a good son,” I said with a smug smile.

She crossed her arms. “She’s not your mother. So why are you being so nice to my mom?”

I leaned in a little, lowering my voice just for her. “That woman over there? She’s more than a mother to me, Agatha. She’s my best friend.” I gave her a wink, then turned before she could shoot another question.

I walked out of the hospital and headed to my car, tossing the bag into the trunk and starting the engine. My hands gripped the steering wheel, and I let myself smile a little.

If being close to her mom was the only way to stay close to Agatha…

Then I’d be the best fake son she ever had.

But staying close to Mrs. Morrow… it isn’t just because of Agatha.

It’s deeper than that.

She’s the only adult who ever treated me like I mattered. She didn’t look at me like I was some wild troublemaker. She saw me. She still does.

When I pulled up in front of the house, I stepped out first and walked around to help them. Mrs. Morrow was already unbuckling, and Agatha was taking her sweet time like the seat had glued her in place.

I leaned on the door with a smirk. “Should I carry you inside, babe?” I asked, voice full of teasing.

Agatha shot me a look. “I can help myself out, thank you very much.”

“Okay then, go ahead. Show me,” I said, stepping back with a small shrug.

She pushed the door open and carefully got down, but just as her foot hit the ground, she stumbled a little. Her hand reached out fast—right onto mine for balance.

I didn’t say anything.

I didn’t need to.

I just raised one brow and smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she mumbled, letting go of my hand like it had burned her.

Mrs. Morrow chuckled softly behind us.

I was just about to turn back to the car when her voice stopped me.

“Fenrik, would you like to come inside? I can quickly prepare something. You haven’t eaten, I’m sure of it. Not anything decent since you came back.”

I paused. I opened my mouth to answer, but before a word came out, I caught movement beside me.

Agatha.

She was shaking her head. Not fast. Not dramatic. Just a small, quiet no. Her arms were folded, and she wouldn’t even look at me.

I looked from her to her mother and gave a soft smile.

“Oh, maybe next time,” I said, pretending not to notice the silent message. “I have something to take care of.”

Mrs. Morrow looked a little disappointed but nodded. “Alright, son. But promise me you’ll eat soon, okay?”

I gave her a thumbs-up and a wink. “I always do, ma’am.”

Then I got into my car.

As the door closed, I looked at the rearview mirror. Agatha was helping her mom to the porch, walking slow but steady.

She didn’t look back once.

I started the engine.

But before driving off, I whispered to myself,

“Next time, you won’t say no, Omega.”

Then I drove away, the smile gone from my face.