CHAPTER 107: REGRETS

Chapter 105

Jack

"We’re not going to have that conversation today, sunshine."

I pull him closer, arms wrapping around him like if I squeeze tight enough, I can anchor his soul to me.

"We won’t talk about those bastards," I add, voice low, almost a growl, stopping him from spiraling again.

"Don’t let them ruin more than they already have."

His breath hitches. He’s trying to hold it together.

God, my sunshine. My Ciel.

I press a slow kiss to his forehead. Then one to his cheek — salty from drying tears. He sniffles softly into my collar.

"Let me enjoy this moment with you," I whisper against his skin. "Just this moment. Just us."

His fingers fist in my shirt like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.

I wrap both arms around him even tighter.

Outside, the ocean keeps crashing.

Inside, I’m drowning in fear and love and fury so intense I could set the world on fire with it.

His voice is tiny when he speaks.

"I hate that I’m afraid."

I swallow hard, my throat tight.

"You’re not weak," I tell him. "Fear means you have something precious you don’t want to lose."

He presses his face to my neck. "I don’t want to lose you."

"You won’t," I murmur. "You’re stuck with me, sunshine."

I stroke his hair the way he likes — slow, steady — and his breathing evens out. Little tremors still shake his shoulders, but he’s grounding. Finding me again.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, voice muffled against my chest. "You’re going through all this because of me."

"It’s not your fault," I answer without hesitation. "Besides, sunshine—"

I pull back enough to tilt his chin up, eyes locking with his —

"you’re my omega. And unfortunately, my omega is so stunning everyone wants a piece of him."

I heave a dramatic sigh, shaking my head like it’s some terrible inconvenience.

Ciel sniffles... then glares at me.

Good. Anger I can handle. Sadness? That’s the one that kills me.

"You’re insufferable," he mutters.

"And yet," I hum, brushing a tear from his cheek with my thumb, "you still crawl into my lap every time you’re upset."

His cheeks flush. "...That’s because you’re comfortable."

"I am," I nod solemnly. "Firm thighs. Excellent emotional support chest. Top-tier cuddling structure."

He swats my shoulder. I pretend it hurts, hand flying to the spot.

"Abusive omega," I whisper dramatically. "Violent. I should have known."

His lips twitch. He’s fighting a smile.

I soften my tone, sliding a hand along his back and pulling him close again.

"Sunshine," I murmur against his hair, "I don’t care how many storms come. I’m not letting go."

He grabs the front of my shirt, knuckles white. "I’m scared."

"I know." I kiss the corner of his forehead. "Be scared. I’ve got you."

His breathing steadies again, slower now. He relaxes, head on my shoulder.

"...Jack?"

"Hm?"

"Don’t you regret it?"

His voice is small, too soft — like he already expects the answer to hurt.

"Regret what?" I ask.

He swallows. "You know... me. Everything..."

He takes a shaky breath.

"And if I did what you do?"

He flinches, and I let out a small laugh.

I pull him tighter.

"My beloved sunshine," I murmur into his hair, "as I call you sunshine, it’s because you walked into my life and brought light with you."

His breath hitches. I keep going.

"Before you, I didn’t even realize how cold I was. How dark it all felt. You came after a long night and made me remember warmth."

I stroke his back, slow and steady, grounding both of us.

"I regret nothing."

He shivers. I hold him closer, like I can fuse our bones together, like maybe I could hide him inside me and keep him safe from the world.

"With you, I have Nolan. I have Lanny. I have a family. You gave me a family, sunshine."

Silence. Heavy, thick, full of unsaid things and fear and love.

"I don’t regret a thing," I whisper. "Not one second. Not even the hard parts."

I breathe against his temple.

"The only thing I regret... is that the only way I know how to keep you safe right now is to part from you."

He squeezes his fists into my shirt, desperate, like if he lets go, he’ll fall apart entirely.

That’s when I feel it — the tiny tremor in his voice.

"...I don’t want to go."

"I know," I whisper. "I don’t want you to either."

He’s quiet. Too quiet. The kind that hurts.

"Sometimes," he whispers, voice shaking, "I wish I wasn’t an omega. Wish I wasn’t born in this body."

My heart cracks.

He sniffles once.

I put my thumb on his jaw, gently making him face me.

"Hey," I whisper. "Look at me."

His lashes are wet. His breathing uneven.

"If you weren’t an omega," I murmur softly, brushing tears from under his eyes, "you wouldn’t have Lanny. Do you regret having him?"

He shakes his head instantly, fiercely. "No."

"Exactly." I cup his face fully now, thumbs warm on his cheeks.

"Then don’t regret being the person who brought him into the world. The world can be cruel. But we also got him. Our son. We love him more than anything."

His lips wobble.

"And if you weren’t an omega," I add gently, "you probably wouldn’t have crossed paths with me either."

He lets out a tiny broken sound, one hand gripping my shirt like he’s scared I’ll vanish.

"See?" I say.

"Don’t only look at the part that hurts. The same sea that drowns sailors is the same sea that shines in the sun and gives us waves to swim in. Beauty and danger can exist in one thing."

I lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose.

Just breathing with him. Holding him.

He sniffles again, a little calmer, a little anchored.

Then I say, matter-of-fact:

"Besides, I’m already stupidly in love with you. And I fully intend to experience knotting an omega at least once in my life, so you’re stuck with me."

He lets out a surprised wet snort — half-laugh, half-cry.

"What?" I say with faux innocence. "I’m serious."

He laughs properly this time — broken but real, forehead pressing into my collarbone as he clings to me.

And I hold him tighter, because I know he needs sweetness like oxygen right now.

And maybe I do too.